Jeremiah nodded. “But I’m doing this on my own. My parents don’t need to know,” he added hastily.
Rio whirled around. He’d been stalking across the clearing, his shoulders stiff with annoyance. “Your parents don’t know where you are?”
“I thought maybe your mama raised you,” Elijah muttered. “And you were an only child.”
Jeremiah glared at him, drawing himself up to his full height and pushing out his chest. “I’m from a huge family, the youngest of eight. I have seven sisters. My father wanted a son.”
The men exchanged knowing looks.
“And he got you,” Elijah muttered under his breath.
“That explains a lot,” Conner said. “Well, boy, this isn’t home and your sisters aren’t here to coddle you. Improve your time or get your sorry ass back to Mama where it’s safe. If you stay with us, someone’s going to be shooting at you.”
Jeremiah flushed. “I’m no mama’s boy, if that’s what you’re implying. I’m just saying, my time is fast, probably faster than any of yours.”
Conner sighed. “Who has the slowest time of any of us shifting on the run through the trees?” He looked around at the men.
Felipe raised his hand. “I think it’s me, Conner.”
Conner stepped back and waved Felipe forward. Felipe glanced at Isabeau and raised an eyebrow at Conner.
“She has to learn. And she’s sure seen enough of Jeremiah’s naked ass.”
Isabeau blushed, cursing under her breath as once again attention centered on her. She was trying to fit in, whether they all believed it or not, and she didn’t need the added burden of them constantly throwing out reminders that she was female and basically going into heat like a freaking cat.
She let her gaze drift over Conner. She’d spent the night curled up next to a leopard, as warm and safe as she’d never even dreamt of being. Listening to the steady rhythm of the rain and the leopard’s heartbeat had allowed her to drift off to sleep fast, even in the midst of so many strangers. She’d felt comforted and completely at ease. Now, watching him in action, the fluid grace, the play of muscle beneath his skin, the burning eyes and focused stare, her body had gone into meltdown. She could barely keep her eyes from him. And she was acutely aware every single second why she had brought him to Panama—to seduce another woman—and that he had rejected her.
Conner cleared his throat. “Isabeau?” he prompted.
She flushed, realizing Felipe was waiting for her permission. “I need to learn how to shift as well,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant, as if she was used to seeing naked men all day long.
Felipe took her at her word, peeling off his clothes without further modesty while he sprinted. She had to admire the efficient way he stripped, a smooth, practiced motion that took only a couple of seconds. The moment he kicked off his shoes and shed his socks, he was running, stripping as he went, already shifting as he shucked his jeans and shirt, the muscles contorting as he picked up speed, so that he was leaping, covering large areas of space before his shirt floated to the ground.
Conner hit the stopwatch and walked over to Jeremiah. The kid’s mouth hung open as he stared at the large leopard in utter astonishment.
“I could barely see him do it,” Jeremiah said, admiration in his voice. “I swear, I almost think I can’t believe my eyes.”
“No wasted motion,” Isabeau pointed out, unable to stay in the background. She hurried up beside Jeremiah to look at the watch. “That’s not even seven seconds. How can that be?”
“I’m not certain I really saw it,” Jeremiah said, still staring at the watch.
Isabeau crowded closer, brushing the naked leopard with her arm. Conner growled deep in his throat and the kid jumped back. All the men stiffened and turned to see Conner’s head moving slowly, following Jeremiah’s shriveling body, gaze burning brightly and focused on his prey.
“Conner,” Rio said sharply.
Shocked by Conner’s reaction, Isabeau instinctively moved away from Jeremiah. “You can’t possibly think . . .” She trailed off, one hand going defensively to her throat, although there was a mean-spirited part of her that found the situation amusing. “He’s a kid.”
“He’s closer to your age than I am,” Conner snapped.
She couldn’t suppress her laughter. “Come on, Conner, don’t be ridiculous.”
“Hey!” Jeremiah said. “Women can’t get enough of me.”
Conner snarled, his teeth elongating, curving, his claws bursting from the tips of his fingers. Isabeau made it worse by doubling over in laughter at the outraged look on Jeremiah’s face and the other men rolling their eyes, shocked that the boy didn’t have enough self-preservation to step back farther from Isabeau and close his mouth.
“Are you saying my woman wants you?” Conner demanded, stepping in close to the boy—too close. “That she prefers you to me?”
That sobered Isabeau immediately. She straightened, her eyes going green and glowing like two jewels. “I’m not your woman, you miserable excuse for a mate.”