Savage Nature - Christine Feehan [83]
Saria took them to a sheltered cove, one where the ground was solid and trees lined the water’s edge, shading the edge of the marsh and the reeds jutting out into the water.
She spread out her arms and turned in a circle. “This is where I found the second body. It was half in and half out of the water over there.” She pointed a distance away to a long path where the brush was flattened leading to the edge of the reeds and deeper water—obviously an alligator slide. “And over there.” She pointed to a spot a good deal away from the slide where someone might choose to picnic, thinking themselves safe from the gator. “There were bottles from our bar lyin’ on the ground.”
He took her hand and led her back to the interior, away from alligators and dead bodies. The ground was solid and the trees had thick branches. If need be, she could easily climb up one, although there was no evidence of alligators this far inland.
“I’m going to shift and take a look around, Saria. It may take a while.”
“I want to take some photographs of you. Is that all right? In your leopard form.”
“You know that’s not a good idea.” Drake hated to deny her anything. “Even for your own use, it’s just not a good idea.”
“How could anyone tell the difference between a shifter and a leopard?”
He handed her his shirt, shrugging out of it easily. “They’ll know the picture was taken here in the marsh, honey. How will you explain a leopard in Fenton’s Marsh?”
Saria seemed fascinated by the muscles on his chest. She stared while she folded his shirt. Drake kicked off his shoes and dropped his hands to the front of his jeans. Her gaze dropped with his hands as he parted the material and peeled them from his body. He liked that she was fascinated. She was going to have to get used to seeing him naked and she didn’t seem to mind, although she appeared a little intimidated.
“Your brother Remy is a tough man.” He tried distracting her.
She blinked, trying to focus on his face. “All of them are.”
“This lair needs a strong leader. And he fought circles around their appointed fighter. He’d take any of them down in seconds.”
“My brothers stay to themselves.”
“Isn’t Mahieu seeing Charisse?” He handed her the jeans, desperately trying to think of anything but sex. Suddenly sex was on his mind in a big way, and being a man, he found his thoughts physically impossible to hide. She was already intimidated enough by the thought of having sex with him.
“Well, with any of my brothers you just never know. Lojos and Gage have been givin’ him a really bad time about her, teasin’, you know. Mahieu doesn’t say much, but he’s been hittin’ the jazz clubs with her.”
She made no attempt to pull her gaze away from his body. Her eyes grew big and she raised her eyebrows. “I don’ know, Drake, you’re just a little bigger than I expected.”
The woman could make the devil blush. Instead of stepping back from him, she stepped closer to him and reached toward him hesitantly, as if afraid he’d bat her hand away. He went still. So did his leopard. Both held their breath. Her gaze jumped to his face, burning into his, then dropped again to his heavy erection. Tentatively, her fingers brushed over his cock, a soft slide of just the pads of her fingers, as if he might burn her skin—instead, she burned his.
The breath slammed from his lungs. Hot blood rushed through his veins to pool into aicked, urgent need. Every nerve ending seemed centered in his groin. Her fingers stroked over the length of him, tracing him, shaping him, sliding lower to cup his sac. A low growl escaped, his throat closing on the sound so it came out strangled.
“So hot,” she murmured as if to herself. “Alive.”
“Very alive,” he admitted, gritting his teeth. He didn’t want her to stop, but it was torture, pure and simple.
Saria looked up again at Drake’s face. Lines of desire were etched deep. His eyes had gone