wanted to see what reaction his leopard would have. He already knew what reaction he had to her.
Again, there was that small hesitation. He caught the briefest hint of sexual interest flaring in her eyes before she managed to veil all expression with her lashes. She didn’t want to be that close to him. She reacted to him just as he was reacting to her. She had courage though, he had to hand that to her. She slid past him, her small body whispering against his.
Shturm nearly rolled over, purring. Purring. The cat had never purred in his life. More, he felt her cat rising. The female moved fast, reaching for Shturm, calling to him, the scent of her filling the air so that Sevastyan had to fight his leopard to keep him under control. His own body went hot and hard with urgent need.
“I presume you did your research on me then?” Sevastyan said when he could breathe properly, as he pulled the door closed, matching her steps nearly exactly, his silent.
She glanced over her shoulder and went pale when she saw him so close. “Yes. You’re Amur leopard. Rare. From Russia. There are rumors about your kind. Very unfortunate rumors.” She shivered and rubbed her arms as she made her way into the living room.
Sevastyan really loved the large, spacious room with the high ceilings and great stone fireplace. He waved Flambé toward the coziest chair. Most of his furniture had been purchased for a big man. His cousins were all large like he was and when they came to visit, he wanted them comfortable.
“Flambé,” he said, when she stood by the chair. “Sit down. We have a lot to get through. You may as well be comfortable. If you’re cold, I can get you a blanket or start the fire.” He poured persuasion into his voice. He wasn’t asking. He wanted to know who this man was and why he thought he had any right to her. She looked fragile, as if she might fall down at any moment. Her face was pale and the swelling on the side of her head was alarming to him. Her eyes were overbright, almost as if she was a little dazed.
Flambé sank into the chair. “Mr. Amurov, are the rumors around the Amur shifters true?”
“The lairs where my cousins and I grew up? Yes. Absolutely they are true and worse than anything you’ve heard. The worst criminals want nothing to do with the lairs, for good reasons. My cousins and I broke away and came here, and we have death sentences hanging over our heads.” He shrugged his shoulders. “They’ve made their try a couple of times, but so far they haven’t succeeded. Call me Sevastyan. Not Mr. Amurov. I prefer Sevastyan.”
“Our shifters come from South Africa. We’re strawberry leopards. There are so few of us that researchers believe we are mutations with recessive genes producing an overproduction of red pigments or an underproduction of dark pigments. Poachers go after us, hunting us relentlessly the moment one of our kind is spotted in leopard form. Researchers don’t have a chance to actually find out we’re our own subspecies, not a mutation.”
Sevastyan sank onto the love seat across from her chair and leaned toward her. He had heard rumors, of course, of strawberry leopards. They all had, but no one had seen one. Most thought them a myth, or like the black leopard, a leopard born with an overproduction of red pigments like researchers believed.
He felt his heart accelerate and did his best to get it under control. For his sake. For Shturm’s. There were fewer than a dozen strawberry leopards to his knowledge. At most, perhaps under twenty. Chances were good she was unmated. Her female had risen, responding to Shturm’s presence. Sevastyan was attracted to her physically. In fact, the chemistry between them was extremely strong. He could make it work. He just had to proceed with care.
“Your father brought the shifters into the country and taught them his business and then when they could work on their own, he allowed them to move on and he brought in more.” It was a guess—an educated one.
She nodded. “Yes. He sponsored them. When the first had their businesses set up, they brought in others and sponsored them. Most, of course, weren’t strawberry leopards. It wasn’t like we had very many. Our species is nearly extinct. Poachers love a strawberry coat. We were hunted nearly to death. Unfortunately, recently, as many