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Christine Feehan
the forest floor. The wind ruffled his fur and blew in his face but it couldn’t rid him of the woman’s enticing scent. Every step he took away from her brought uneasiness.
The leopard gave a soft grunting cough of protest, followed it with a sawing roar of temper. She would not leave him alone. Everywhere he went, she went with him. In his mind. In his churning belly. In his groin. He raked claws along a tree trunk, ripping the bark in a fit of foul temper, shredding it into long strips. She clung to him, would not let him go. The rain should have cooled his hot blood, but it did not nothing but fan the embers smoldering inside of him.
Rio should have been able to shed his human concerns and escape into the mind of the animal, but he could taste her. Feel her. She was everywhere he went, everything he did, the very air around him. There was no logic to it or explanation for it. She was a total stranger, without a real name or a past, yet she somehow had consumed him. It was alarming to him. He didn’t trust her, and worse, he didn’t trust himself.
He made his way back to the house in silence, padding slowly along the forest floor to give himself tune to think. It shouldn’t matter so much that he thought about her. It was natural. He hadn’t had a woman in a very long time-now one was lying in his bed. Rio told himself that had to be what it was. A simple case of lust. What the hell else could it be when he didn’t even know her? Satisfied that he’d worked it all out, he leapt into the trees and returned to his house using the safer and much faster route.
RACHAEL floated somewhere between sleep and consciousness. She couldn’t understand where she was. Everything looked strange, not at all like her home. Sometimes she thought she heard voices yelling at her, shouting at her, demanding things she couldn’t tell them. Other times she thought she was lost hi a jungle with wild animals stalking
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her. She tried to move, tried to drag herself out of the strange, hazy world she seemed to be locked inside of.
“Like a bubble,” she said aloud. “I live in a glass house and if someone throws a rock, I’ll shatter right along with the walls.” She looked around, frowning, trying desperately to remember how she got to such a strange place. Her voice sounded different, far away and not at all like her.
And the pain was ripping through her with every move she made. Had she been injured? Tortured? Someone was trying to kill her. Why hadn’t they just finished the job instead of leaving her half alive? She had always known it was going to happen sooner or later.
Something moved outside the window. The woven blanket covered the glass, but she knew something heavy passed by. Straining to hear, she looked wildly around for a weapon. Had they finally come for her? Her heart began to pound with alarming force and her mouth felt like cotton wool. A lethargic apathy had seized her body. She could hear the crackling of the fire, the steady rhythm of the rain. Thirst was overpowering, making it necessary to get up, but it was difficult, as though wading through quicksand. Attempting to sit up sent jagged pains racing up her leg. She found herself on the floor, her leg buckling beneath her. Surprised, Rachael looked around the room, trying to remember where she was and how she got there, trying to bring the room into focus. What was wrong with her? No matter how hard she tried, her mind refused to function properly. The lamp was burning brightly. She didn’t remember lighting it. Her gaze shifted to the door. The bar was no longer across it.
Rachael swallowed, the tight knot of fear blocking her throat, and reluctantly looked down to inspect her useless leg. Her calf and ankle were unrecognizable, swollen almost to the point of bursting. Bright red blood seeped and oozed, making her stomach lurch. She’d been attacked by a wild animal. She clearly remembered the eyes. The cunning intelligence, the piercing danger. Terror welled