"I did something to him." There was a frown in her voice, but she wouldn't look at him. "He said my cat would accept him. And she didn't come out to help me. She didn't protest what he was doing."
"We have venom in our claws." He brushed kisses over her temples. "Zorba is trying to confuse you, to make you think that what you did entitles him to you, but he saw you and in his twisted mind, like any other common stalker, he thinks you have a relationship with him. He knows you're my mate. He knows you're married to me, but it doesn't matter to him. Mates are sacred. No one touches another's mate."
He took her through to the bathroom and allowed her legs to drop to the floor, one arm holding her steady.
"I don't understand, Conner. You said he has the right to challenge you."
"You chose, but yes, an unmated female certainly has the right to choose her mate. She isn't restricted to one single male until that choice is made. Ordinarily, mates look for one another, life cycle after cycle, but they don't always. Your cat indicated she found his cat attractive, that's all. But you are mated, and he has no rights at all to you. He knows that."
"Then what does the venom do?"
He was afraid she'd ask. He busied himself tugging at her shirt, which she didn't want to give up. She kept pulling the hem back down. Finally she covered her chest with her arms, preventing him from removing her top.
"I'll do it myself, when I'm alone."
Defiance crept into her eyes. Shame. His heart contracted. He caught her arms and dragged her to him, his mouth coming down on hers. His kiss was long, tender and filled with as much love as he could pour into it.
"You have to believe me, Isabeau. This isn't your fault. Did you think because all the people in this valley are so kind, that leopard people are always good? The danger of our business is that we see the worst of people, not the best, as we have in this valley. But I've seen the worst in leopards and the best in humans. Ottila is a sick man. You didn't give him an opening, he fixated on you all by himself."
She refused to meet his gaze. "He did this so you wouldn't want me. I know he did. The wounds will heal, but they'll scar. Right now, his scent and his marks are all over me. He wanted you to find me distasteful--repugnant."
"Well, guess what, he didn't succeed."
Her gaze leapt to his face. "My cat can smell your lie."
"Not a lie. My cat is raging. As he should be. As, deep down, I am. I don't want another man touching you." He kept his gaze steady on hers, never flinching. Yes, his cat was snarling, hating the smell of the other man--but never her--never his mate. He raged at himself for not protecting her, but the blame was on his shoulders, not hers, if there was blame to be had by one of them. "I could never be repulsed by you, Isabeau. You're my heart. My soul. This man can't drive a wedge between us. Let your cat smell whether I'm telling you the truth or a lie. Now let me take your clothes off and see what damage he's done."
"He was careful not to really injure me."
"He's a first-class bastard who gave no thought to your feelings. Possession isn't love, Isabeau, no matter how possessive a man feels. And I do feel possessive, but I know I don't own you. And I don't have the right to hurt you or take away your choices. I put my mark on you to protect you from him, not to brand you as mine. I think my leopard may have that idea, but I'm not just my leopard and I refuse, as every man should, to use our cat's instincts to guide us into animalistic behavior. And don't get me wrong, Isabeau, Ottila's behavior was an abomination against animals."
For the first time a faint smile crept into her eyes. "Did you think he dazzled me with his show of strength? He terrified me. I never want to see him again."
This time she let him remove her clothing. His fingers brushed her skin and she jumped a little, but remained still. There were puncture wounds on her breasts and at the junction of her legs, a strike at him, Conner was certain, but the real damage was the mottled bruising coming up under her skin.
He closed his eyes for a moment, breathing deep, breathing away the combined rage of the leopard and the man. He waited until he was completely under control. "You know I'm going to kill him."
She sank into the heated tub, shivering, the blood slowly turning the water pink. "That's what he wants. Let's just get the children and leave."
"You aren't coming with us, Isabeau. It's too dangerous and you're in no shape. Tomorrow you won't be able to move."
Her gaze jumped to his face. "You're not leaving me alone. Not again. And I'll be even more of an asset to the team. Imelda and her crew will think Elijah did this to me and they'll be happy that he's like them. It will be one more thing to make her let down her guard enough to give us a little rein in her territory. Besides, I'm the one her grandfather talked to about gardens. He said he had one. That's outside. He'll expect me to go out with him and see it. My cat can smell as well as yours. I'll find them while Elijah and Marcos talk alliances and you look tough."
Pride burst through him along with the desire to weep. Isabeau was down, but not out. Ottila had shaken her, but she had never lost sight of what she was about or who she was. He hoped she could move in the morning, but he doubted it. Watching her shivering, trying not to weep while he cleaned the wounds and treated them, he knew Ottila was a dead man.
A man capable of doing such damage to a woman just to prove a point would come at them again and again. It would never be over until he was stopped permanently. There was no point in stating the fact to Isabeau. She was too afraid of the man--but Conner wasn't.
19
"ARE you certain Isabeau can handle this?" Leonardo asked Conner as they drove down the narrow road along the edge of the rain forest. He studied Conner's grim features in the dim light streaming in through the tinted windows.
Imelda Cortez's sprawling compound was found at the end of a very long, windy road that switched back and forth up a mountain and dead-ended at her property. The rain forest surrounded her on three sides. The team had already run through their routes over and over, and the most promising was on the southernmost tip of the estate. If they could get the children to that side of the compound, the forest was practically reclaiming the fences.
They came in two vehicles. Marcos, Conner and Leonardo were in the first one. Elijah and Isabeau with Rio and Felipe arrived in the second. The others had been shocked when they saw Isabeau. Her face was untouched, her skin flawless but pale. She moved like a much older woman, unable to stand straight, obviously in pain. She'd taken a painkiller, but it hadn't seemed to help much.
"If Isabeau says she can do this, then she can," Conner said, his voice terse. He hadn't been able to dissuade her, not even when she'd rolled over onto her hands and knees, pushing up as her stomach heaved, protesting the severe beating. He didn't know if it was her fear of Ottila returning, or her determination to see their mission through that got her on her feet, but she somehow had managed to get herself dressed and ready for the trip to Imelda's.
Weapons were stashed in two secret locations just inside the rain forest. Without the rogue leopards guarding Imelda's compound, it had been fairly easy to place the caches without detection. They had more stashed in the two vehicles, hidden from sight so it didn't look as if they were going to war.
The gates loomed up before them, heavy ironwork designed to keep out anyone, or keep someone prisoner behind the eight-foot fence that surrounded the rolling grounds. Guards with dogs patrolled the fence and several more guarded the gates with automatic weapons. Conner was certain Imelda wanted a show of force for her visitors. He kept his dark glasses in place and spent most of his time looking indifferent as he studied the layout of the compound and the close proximity of the forest.
Had he been the head of the security force, the first thing he would have done would be to move back the forest. The fence itself was a security nightmare. Imelda wanted the top flat and wide enough for guards to use it, but she should have had it built so no one could climb it. Some of the lower branches actually touched the fence. The bra
nches were often used as a highway for the animals, and both Suma and Ottila would have known that. They really hadn't cared much about their job, or maybe they'd grown lazy, as no one ever challenged Imelda's stranglehold on the Panama-Colombia border.
He glanced briefly at Isabeau as she was helped from the car by a solicitous Elijah. He swept his arm around her, bringing her under his shoulder, ignoring her wince with every step she took. She was still walking gingerly, a little bent over, but she stood, eyes apparently downcast, the picture of a woman under a man's complete control. Elijah looked satisfied and even arrogant, his gaze boldly sweeping the estate as if comparing it with his own.
Imelda came out to greet them, shaking hands with Marcos and Elijah. Conner saw her gaze rest thoughtfully a few moments on Isabeau. She took off her sunglasses and smiled.
"How are you . . . Isabeau, isn't it?"
Isabeau played her part perfectly, glancing nervously up at Elijah as if asking permission to speak. His cool gaze swept her face and he barely nodded, the gesture nearly imperceptible, but just enough for Imelda to catch it.
"Fine, thank you," Isabeau intoned, her voice barely audible.
"I'm so glad you came with your . . . cousin." Deliberately Imelda linked her arm to Isabeau's and swung her around toward the house, calling out over her shoulder, "Do come in. I'm so pleased to have guests."
Conner knew she couldn't fail to feel Isabeau's wince, and she deliberately set a brisk pace to force Isabeau to keep up with her. She was enjoying not only Isabeau's humiliation, but her pain. His gut twisted as Imelda sent him a smoldering look that promised all kinds of things he didn't want. He could see Imelda's fingers touching Isabeau and wanted to tear his wife away from the woman who was so deliberately cruel. He realized he didn't want Isabeau to work with him in this business, seeing the worst of people. He wanted her somewhere safe where she would always keep her faith in humanity.
He fell in behind Marcos, taking in the position of every guard and each structure. There was a large water tower with a narrow wooden staircase. He figured it was more of a convenience for a sniper to see everything than an actual needed tower. There appeared to be another water tank, near a pump house. Guards moved in three places on the wall, in small cubicles built on top of it. There were several of those where a soldier who was a good shot would have command of the forest around him, yet have good protection.
He entered the house. It was long and low and cool, built like a Spanish mansion. The verandah wrapped around the front and two sides, shaded by a roof held by thick columns. Inside the sprawling room was comfortable furniture and wide spaces he realized accommodated a wheelchair. Imelda didn't seem the type of woman to accommodate anyone, least of all her aging grandfather, but Conner could feel the influence of the man in the house. There were large banks of sunny windows, although bars covered each of them. Plants grew tall and bushy inside as well as out. He could see the plants not only were beautiful, but in a way they would be functional in a battle. They were large enough to screen windows and provide cover for those inside. They'd also provide fuel for a fire should one happen to be started.
The older man sat waiting, a smile of welcome on his face. It slowly faded as he watched Isabeau walk toward him.
She brightened immediately when she saw him. "Mr. Cortez. How wonderful to see you again."
Alberto Cortez held out both hands to her, forcing Imelda to drop her arm. Isabeau took his hands and leaned in to kiss both cheeks.
"I'm so glad you've joined us, my dear. I had hoped you would come."
"I didn't want to miss seeing your garden. The plants in here are magnificent."
Imelda hissed out a long, annoyed sigh. "Grandfather. We have other guests." She sent a small, apologetic smile to the men over her shoulder.
The old man smiled at the group of men. "Forgive me," he said. "Isabeau is an enchanting woman. Welcome to our home."
Imelda rolled her eyes but refrained from issuing another reprimand as both Marcos and Elijah shook hands with her grandfather.
"It's good to see you again, sir," Elijah said. "Isabeau is indeed an enchanting woman."
"I trust you keep her well in hand," Marcos said.
Elijah ran his gaze deliberately over Isabeau. "She managed to make her way here to the rain forest, far from our home, but I've come to collect her."
As a chess move, Conner had to admit, Elijah's simple statement was brilliant. He managed in that single sentence to imply he was ruthless enough to control his family with an iron hand and collect any strays who managed to slip away. Given that his sister had disappeared some time earlier, but had been recovered, Imelda would assume Elijah was very much like her, a cruel, possessive dictator who squashed rebellion immediately.
Isabeau played her part to perfection, actually moving a little toward Alberto, almost for protection, her eyes downcast, avoiding Elijah's domineering gaze.
Alberto patted her hand absently. "You won't mind me showing Isabeau the garden, will you? I had hoped to show off for her."
There was a small silence while Elijah clearly debated.
"Oh for heaven's sake. It will get them out of our hair while we talk business. Nadia! Get drinks immediately," Imelda called to a young servant girl.
Elijah refused to be pushed. "I allowed her to go off with your grandfather and she was accosted by one of your security men. An issue I would very much like to address before we go any further. I made it quite clear she was protected and off limits." There was a chill in his voice, ice in his eyes. "I wish to see this man."
Imelda's mouth tightened. She clearly didn't like to be thwarted in even a small way. "I heard from my grandfather that this occurred, but Harry was there with his shotgun to make certain she was safe." There was a hint of impatience in her tone and she tapped her foot, frown lines etched deep into her forehead and around her mouth. "She was never in any danger."
"The bodies buried there?"
"Clearly Philip Sobre's. My security man had nothing to do with the bodies. Unless you're implying my grandfather had his own burial plot there." She laughed gaily as if she'd made a wonderful joke. "It was so sad about Philip, don't you think? The police are questioning everyone, but they think a parent of one of the women got to him. The guests saw him throughout the rest of the evening and even after I left. He locked up his house after the party ended, and they believe his killer was hiding inside."
"How terrible," Marcos murmured approvingly. "Although if he did kill the young men and women they're finding in his garden, I can hardly blame the parent."
Isabeau shivered and Alberto patted her hand again.
Elijah frowned. "Still, Imelda, it would be a good faith gesture to allow me to have a word with your security man."
Imelda scowled. "He's gone."
Elijah's eyebrow shot up. "Gone?" He sounded skeptical.
"He threatened to kill my grandfather," Imelda said, her face revealing her true personality. All trace of beauty was gone, leaving a mask of twisted malevolence. "Did you think he would stay around to see what I would do to him? I have a certain reputation for protecting my own. The man worked for me and he betrayed me over a . . ." She bit off an obvious insult.
Two spots of color appeared high in Isabeau's cheeks, but she didn't raise her head. Elijah, however, took a threatening step toward Imelda. Instantly Rio and Felipe moved with him, facing Imelda's security guards.
Alberto rolled his chair between his granddaughter and Elijah. "Imelda had no intention of insulting your family, Elijah, or anyone you care about. She's very distraught that a man we trusted betrayed our family. She gave you her word your woman would be safe with me, and we both believed it. Zorba not only betrayed us, but it appears he killed his partner as well. I apologize on behalf of our family and assure you that everything that can be done to find this man and bring him to justice is being done by my granddaughter."
Imelda, for the first time, sent a small smile toward her grandfather. "He always reminds
me of my manners. Living the way I do, running such a big business, I tend to lose the small courtesies that count. I'm sorry, Elijah." She inclined her head like a princess.
Elijah allowed a small smile to slip out, bowing slightly in a courtly manner. "I have the same problem, but with no grandfather to remind me."
"Please sit down and make yourselves comfortable. Your men can relax a little." Imelda gestured toward the most comfortable chairs.
Conner, Felipe, Rio and Leonardo spread out, covering the entrances, stationing themselves where they had a good view of every direction through the windows.
"My men are the best," Marcos said. "I like to use family, men I know who are loyal to me and mine. Men with a stake in my success."
Imelda sank into a chair, her greedy gaze on Conner's face, devouring him with her eyes. "You should count yourself very lucky, Marcos. Unfortunately, I have no family left other than my grandfather." She picked up an ivory fan and coquettishly began to fan herself, using an idle indolence that was purely feigned for Conner's benefit. She wore a skirt and blouse that showed off her figure and when she crossed her legs, allowed her thighs to show off to their best advantage.
"Come, my dear," Alberto said. "With Elijah's permission, we'll go out to the garden. Bring your drink with you." He turned his head. "Harry."
The man came striding in, shooting Isabeau a wide smile. "He's going to take you to his little paradise, is he? Prepare to hear a dissertation on every plant."
"Elijah?" Isabeau turned to him.
Elijah tapped his finger on his chair and then looked at Conner, indicating he follow her to the garden before nodding his permission. Imelda looked instantly dismayed, while a wide, grateful smile curved Isabeau's mouth. Elijah shrugged. "Neither of us will be distracted while we talk. I always find when I have someone's full attention, there are no mistakes."
Imelda snapped the fan closed and placed it carefully on the table. Her eyes were cool and shadowed. "You definitely have my attention, Elijah."
Isabeau shivered at the sound of Imelda's voice. There was a distinct threat, as if the woman's thin veneer of civility had finally worn off. Isabeau had to walk slowly and was grateful Harry pushed the wheelchair at a leisurely pace. Conner followed at a polite distance, not looking at them, very intimidating in his bodyguard mode. His shoulders looked broad, his glasses dark, and the wire in his ear sensitive. It was clear he was armed, and the other guards looked at one another uneasily. Harry ignored him.