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My candidate for this week and for my fourteenth post comes from Leopard’s Prey (Leopard #6) by Christine Feehan
Leopard’s Prey (Leopard #6) by Christine Feehan
From a tough stint in the armed forces to stalking the unknown as a bayou cop, leopard-shifter Remy Boudreux has been served well by his uncanny gifts. And right now, New Orleans could use a homicide detective like Remy.
A serial killer is loose, snatching victims from the French Quarter with pitiless rage and unnatural efficiency. But something else is drawing Remy into the twilight — a beautiful jazz singer bathed night after night in a flood of blood-red neon.
Sultry, mysterious, and as seductive as her songs, she’s luring Remy deeper into the shadows than he ever imagined. And as their passions swell, his keen instinct for survival will be challenged like never before. By a killer — and by a woman.
“I thought it was a good idea,” Saria said, a little frown forming. She knew her brother’s tone. His voice went low and soft and drawled more than ever. “What’s wrong?” She looked from Bijou to Remy for an explanation.
“It’s nothin’, Remy,” Bijou said. “I told you.”
“Just a little matter of death threats,” Remy explained to Saria. “You know, nothin’ serious at all.”
“I don’ appreciate the sarcasm,” Bijou said, her eyes widening. “I don’ recall you bein’ so sarcastic.”
“That’s because you hero-worshipped him when he didn’ deserve it,” Saria pointed out, laughing all over again. “He has a bossy attitude and never lets you forget he’s the one runnin’ the show.”
Color crept up Bijou’s neck into her face. “I did not hero-worship him,” she denied. “He was bossy back then too.”
“There’s a difference between bein’ bossy, which I wasn’t, and being’ the boss, which I am,” Remy said, in his mild voice. “In any case, worshippin’ me is a good idea. “I’m all for it.”
“Someone needs to look after you,” Remy said. “Especially if you’re goin’ to run wild wit my sister.”
Saria kicked him under the table. “I don’ run wild anymore, Remy. I’m a workin’ girl these days. I spend so much time takin’ pictures I barely have time to run this place properly or do guidin’.”
“Guidin?” Bijou echoed. “You take tourists out in the swamp and bayous?”
“That’s how I met Drake,” Saria said. “I was his guide. Maybe you should take over my business. You could meet…”
Remy slammed his coffee mug onto the table. “Okay, that’s it. I’m drownin’ you in the bayou, Saria. I should have done it when you were born. I knew you were goin’ to be giving me trouble. Blue is not takin’ strangers into the swamp. I’d be shootin’ someone before nightfall.”
Saria leaned across the table and mouthed Bossy at Bijou.
“Clearly you don’ have enough to do, Remy,” Bijou observed. “Or you’ve been deprived of shootin’ someone for a long while now.”
“A little of both,” Remy said. “But now that I’ve got your sassy ass back in New Orleans no doubt I’ll have my hands full.”
“You’re really goin’ to make your home here?” Remy asked. “For good?”
Bijou nodded, her vivid blue eyes meeting his. “I’m tired of fightin’, Remy. I’ve made so many mistakes trying to be someone I’m not. I just plain don’ like the life, traveling, living in hotels, the bodyguards and constant paparazzi and crowds.”
She laughed, winding her arms around his neck, trying to melt into his body. “You have my attention, Remy Boudreaux. You’ll always have my attention. I’m madly, crazy in love with you.”
“I know,” he said complacently.
She dug her fingers into his ribs. He hunched a little, laughing.
“I know? That’s your romantic response when I declare undying love for you?”
“Well, I do know.” His eyes were even laughing.
“Your sexual skills are quite up to par so now we’re goin’ to have to work on your romance skills,” she told him.
“Up to par? Did you just say up to par? Woman, you really are askin’ for trouble. Superior skills in that department.” He danced her off the dance floor and right around the corner of the building, across the sprawling lawn down to the grove of trees. “We’re getting the hell out of here so I can do a little provin’ of my point.”
“We can’t just run away from our own wedding celebration,” she protested, but she didn’t stop moving.
His jacket and tie went floating behind him.
“Oh my God, you’re serious,” Bijou exclaimed, caught somewhere between laughter and shock. “I’m in a wedding dress.”
His hand tore at the pins in her hair even as he dragged her through the trees toward the swamp. “And it’s damned beautiful, but I personally like you with no clothes on. And so do our leopards. Come on, Blue, let’s be bad.”
“There’re like a million buttons.”
He stopped running. “Is that a no?”
“Are you kiddin’ me? Undo them right now, Remy. And hurry up about it.”
“I’m madly, crazy in love with you,” he admitted, his hands eagerly slipping small pearly buttons out of their loops.
“I know,” she said…