stirred his cock. He forced himself to move, reluctantly withdrawing from the haven of her body. He had already grown semi-hard again just listening to that drowsy, very sensual bedroom voice she had. As he shifted his weight off of her, she curled onto her side away from him. Her hair spilled across the black of his sheets in a bright splash of brilliant crimson silk.
Immediately, because his mind worked that way, images began to form in his head of her tied, the black background under her, red hair spilling around her; his captive, the shifter, strawberry leopard that she was, feminine, soft, bending, yielding, submissive even, until one looked closer and saw her immense power. The ties would have to be just right.
“Or you made my creation look beautiful and sensual,” he corrected, and kissed the swelling at her hairline before sliding off the bed to go to the master bath to run the water for her.
While the tub was filling, he cleaned himself and returned to her to find her half asleep. Her lashes fluttered, acknowledging his presence, but she didn’t lift her head. He began to pace, trying to decide what to do about the sleeping arrangements.
Flambé sighed and rolled over onto her back to look up at the very high ceiling. “What is it, Sevastyan? I thought we were going to talk things out.”
She was going to talk things out with him, he wasn’t. But she was right. He was all for honesty. “I want you in this room with me at night, every night. We’re getting married as soon as possible and we share sleeping quarters.” He made that a firm statement. Her gaze shifted from his and she visibly winced but she didn’t argue.
“But?”
There could have been a note of amusement in her voice. He stopped pacing abruptly and swung around to face her again. She was back staring up at the ceiling. Now her hands were linked behind her head. She looked absolutely relaxed. Small. Her hair was still everywhere, as if it was untamable. The sight of it stirred the dominant in him. Or the leopard in him. It didn’t matter which. There was more to Flambé than was on the surface and he needed to be aware of that. He couldn’t take her for granted. Not for one moment. She was hiding herself from him.
This was a woman who frequently went overseas to find other strawberry leopards or leopards of other subspecies that were slowly becoming extinct. She exhibited no fear when she went into those lairs and explained her plans to the elders. She faced down poachers. Sevastyan had asked that she be investigated and she had been—thoroughly. In Africa and the Middle East, two different poaching factions who trafficked in animal parts and pelts had put out a reward for her death. Drake had known of her and her father long before Sevastyan had asked for a report.
“Before I actually found a woman and claimed her, I made certain there were features built into this room so that I could have my woman close and ensure that she was safe at all times as well. Not only that she was safe, but that I was and our leopards were.”
Flambé sat up slowly, pushing her hair back from her face with one hand and looking warily at him with large cat’s eyes.
“That you were safe? Why wouldn’t you be safe from your woman?”
“I’m an Amurov. My family would always be willing to pay someone to assassinate me.”
“I see.” She said it slowly, frowning, as though she didn’t really see. “So, a woman might go so far as to seduce you and then kill you in your sleep. You wouldn’t hear her lies, and neither would your leopard because you’d be so enamored with her that you just would fall all over her, like you did me.”
That was a trap if he ever heard one. He set traps, he didn’t fall into them. He stared at her without replying.
“What are these sleeping arrangements?” Suspicion colored her voice. She moved to the edge of the bed.
He turned away from her on the pretense of checking the water filling the bathtub. She looked too tempting with her breasts jutting toward him covered in his marks of possession and her hips, mound and thighs marked with the same. Satisfaction coursed through him. He was far more primitive than he ever thought he was. He’d tied so many women, but never once had he wanted