Savage Nature - Christine Feehan [48]
In the meantime, he was going to have to conduct a dance with the innkeeper. She had heard the leopard fight the night before, there was no question about that. She’d also removed all evidence. Did she suspect him? He would have scented her had she been close enough to identify him before or after he shifted. Her perfume was distinctive, a blend of several fragrances, predominantly lavender. He found it unusual and pleasing, not sweet and cloying like so many others.
Right now, the aroma of coffee and breakfast drifted through the house, guiding him straight to the formal dining room. Several silver warming trays were centered in the middle of the ornate table and three places were set.
Pauline Lafont looked up from pouring freshly squeezed orange juice into wine glasses. She looked up with a smile when he entered.
“Good morning, Miss Lafont,” Drake greeted. “Quite the commotion last night. I have to admit, it felt a little like being in Africa.”
The innkeeper frowned. “I should have warned you the alligators get quite loud some nights. I didn’t notice they were worse than usual, but I take a sleepin’ aid.”
Drake’s eyebrow shot up at the blatant lie, but he played his part of the city man not quite used to the noises in such a rural setting. “Really? You didn’t hear that horrible cat fight last night?”
The older woman shook her head. “We don’ have a large feral population here. The gators keep them down.”
She gestured for him to sit and turned her back to him, preventing him from seeing her expression, but he was leopard and he could smell a lie—and she was lying. They had a feral population of large cats and she knew it. She was definitely covering up for the leopards. Her sister was married to a Mercier, one of the families he suspected of being leopard. She had a connection all right, and she was protecting them.
“This was something big,” he insisted, pulling out a high-backed chair.
Saria skipped into the room, hair still damp from the shower, her dark eyes sparkling, skin glowing, looking like sunshine to him. Her faded blue jeans were worn and soft, molding to her curves. She wore hiking boots and a thin tee that hugged her breasts and slimmed her waist. For a moment he couldn’t tear his gaze from her. She was so damned sexy and there was no forgetting the vision of her crawling across the floor toward him, her eyes fixed hungrily on his cock. He nearly groaned aloud and felt his body stir at the memory. He hadn’t exactly gotten any sleep lying there, as hard as a rock. No cold shower and no amount of relief helped. Saria, damn her, looked as if she’d slept fine and was as fresh as the new morning.
He studied her face, looking for signs of tears and guilt. She sent him a sunny smile, just as though nothing at all had happened between them. In fact, it was if she barely knew him other than as a client. That did a little damage to his ego, he had to admit. He’d almost rather have had her crying her eyes out than ignoring what had happened between them.
It was only the awareness of Pauline scrutinizing him with a knowing grin that brought him out of his near hypnotic state. He sent Pauline a rueful grin and pulled out a chair for Saria.
“Good morning,” he greeted her, ignoring the desire to shake her up a little by kissing her perfect mouth. He’d spent a few hours in hell thinking about her mouth.
“It’s a beautiful morning,” she said and dropped into the chair, seemingly as if she’d forgotten the night’s events. “Miss Pauline, breakfast smells so good. I cut my shower short because my tummy kept rumbling.” She blew the woman a kiss.
Drake settled into a chair across the table from Saria. She was doing the right thing, but perversely, he wanted her attention. He had a crazy desire to leap over the table and kiss her just for the hell of it. Pauline got kisses, even if they were air kisses, but he went untouched.
He forced himself to be casual