“Of course,” Bijou replied. “I don’ mind restin’. I’ve got a lot of thinking to do.”
Remy breathed a sigh of relief, caught the nape of her neck and kissed her hard. She tried to hold herself away from him, but he refused to back off, deepening the kiss until she relaxed into him with a little sigh of resignation. He kept kissing her. She finally kissed him back. It took discipline to stop when all he wanted to do was be a part of her, to lose himself in her fire and addictive taste.
He pressed his forehead tight against hers. “Restin’ is good. As much as you can. But no thinkin’ about anything. You have to wait for me to talk this out. I know it was a shock to find out about your leopard, but there are more of us than you think. We have rules that govern us and you have to abide by them. Saria is leopard, and she can answer any questions you have until I get back. Clearly, it isn’t something known and we don’ ever talk about it to outsiders.”
“Because you’d all be locked up as insane,” Bijou pointed out pulling back. She reached for the sheet and pulled it up over her breasts in sudden modesty.
“Because we’d be hunted and killed,” Remy corrected, needing her to understand the importance of absolute secrecy. He cupped her breasts through the sheet, making his claim on her and her body. Satisfaction flooded when his thumb found her nipple a hard peak.
Bijou recoiled subtly, a slight withdrawing, not quite pulling away from him, but he felt her retreat as a stab around his heart. He actually put his palm over his heart to ease the ache. He and Bijou had a long way to go, and he realized she had trusted him before, so easily, but now there was a space between them and he couldn’t quite breach it. She definitely was his physically, but she’d moved away from him emotionally and he wanted her back.
He sighed as he slid out of bed. “I know you’re confused about us and the leopard . . .”
She held up her hand and shook her head. “I’m not thinkin’ about that yet. I’m just pretending you bit me and infected me with some rare blood disease and it will all go away.”
She made him smile. No matter what, her sense of humor crept in at times when she was afraid or even angry. She had every right to be confused.
“Talk to Saria, chere, if you need questions answered before I can get back. This will take some time.”
“I’m fine with it takin’ time. Take all the time you need.”
That wasn’t her sense of humor. She was quite serious. She wanted him gone, just as she hadn’t wanted him in her bed when they’d returned from the swamp. He went into the bathroom and pulled himself together as fast as possible, brushing his teeth and inspecting the rake marks across his side and chest. Robert had gotten in a few licks of his own and Remy hadn’t even noticed. There were a few bad bruises, the consequences of a strong leopard hitting another one. Robert would wake up with far worse.
He returned to the bedroom fully dressed to find Bijou wrapped in her robe, sitting by the open drapes. “I didn’t infect you with some rare blood thing, Blue. You do know that, don’ you? Your mere had to be leopard.”
Bijou deliberately pointed to the door. “Go.” The word didn’t come out as commanding as she would have liked.
Her treacherous heart melted every time she looked at him. She had to get over her adolescent hero worship. She’d been so silly, proving just how young and inexperienced she was by thinking he had real feelings for her. It was just sex between them, he’d admitted as much to her. She couldn’t even claim he had his own physical attraction to her—it was his leopard’s fascination with her leopard, which somehow made the entire affair even seedier.
She looked around her at the cracks and long rake marks down the walls. Now it all made sense. She knew exactly what made those claw marks. She groaned and covered her face with her hands.
Remy was an amazing man. Pure and simple. He was intelligent, had a good sense of humor, loved and protected family and he made her feel beautiful and safe. He knew what her life had really been like, not the fairy tale everyone else wanted to believe. She’d been so happy when he’d acted interested in her and when he’d kissed her . . . There was no going back.
There was a hesitant knock on her door, then Saria’s voice. “Are you hungry? I have a brunch made. Come get food.”
Bijou wanted to crawl back in bed and pull the covers over her head, but she refused to be a coward. She couldn’t blame Remy for her actions, and she couldn’t pretend she hadn’t had mad, crazy sex with him. Saria knew everything. She probably even knew about her wild romp in the swamp.
“I’ll be down in five minutes,” she called back.
She took a deep breath and held the sheet against her face for a moment, cooling the color, before tossing it aside in resignation and going to the dresser where her clothes were neatly folded. At least the dresser hadn’t sustained too much damage, but she found herself blushing at the memory of Remy sitting her atop it, his mouth and hands driving her insane.
“Maybe it’s the room,” she muttered aloud, glaring as she looked around. “Some kind of strange Cajun curse on anyone stayin’ here and they turn into the Rougarou. What other real explanation is there?”
She looked down at her body. She was bruised, but there was no fur. When she looked in the mirror her teeth looked like perfectly normal teeth. Bijou sighed and ran a brush through her thick, wild hair. That’s what she got for going to bed with wet hair. There was no taming it, but on the other hand, she had hair, not fur. It was black, not covered in rosettes.
She walked down the stairs a little reluctantly. There were so many questions she had, but more importantly, she had to apologize to her friend and offer to leave if she’d been flirtatious inadvertently with Saria’s husband. Whatever had put Saria on edge had to be her fault and she wanted to make certain they were okay. She didn’t have a lot of real friends, and she definitely didn’t want to lose Saria.
The moment she pushed open the door to the kitchen, the aroma of coffee hit her. She went straight to the coffeepot and poured herself a mug, aware of Saria putting plates on the small table in the kitchen. It was far more intimate than the guest dining room and ordinarily, Bijou much preferred it, but knowing she had to apologize made her even more self-conscious than normal.
She turned slowly, leaning against the counter as she faced Saria.
Saria flashed an encouraging smile. “I’ll get the food out of the warmer.”
“Before you do, I just want to say how sorry I am. I know you’ve been upset with me and I honestly—I swear to you, Saria—I didn’t realize how flirty and awful I’ve been. I’m not usually like that, I had no idea I was doin’ anything that might disturb you or Drake.”
Saria’s eyebrow shot up. “What are you talkin’ about?”
“You’ve been upset with me. Don’ deny it. And you’re not like that, so I had to have been doin’ something to get you riled.” Bijou ducked her head. “My father was some sort of sex addict and it colored my life. I didn’t want to be like him so I stayed away from men. Bodrie always made sex seem so cheap. And then I came here and . . .” She shook her head as her eyes stung and burned and the lump in her throat grew so big she couldn’t talk around it.