Illicit by Madeline Pryce Page B

she could interpret. He stepped forward, opened his mouth. “Shit, Eva, I’m—”
    He never finished. From behind her, a low growl rolled through the air and crept up the back of her spine. Her hammering heart came to a complete stop. She knew that sound better than most. Pissed off leopard. If James had seen Grady hit her, the detective’s life was forfeit.
    Fear blanched Grady’s face and shut his mouth. Panic filled his eyes. Slowly letting her hand fall to her side, Eva turned. She braced herself to find her uncle in the form of a one-hundred-and-seventy-five-pound leopard.
    She sucked in a breath at the sight before her. Not her uncle.
    Rage danced in the approaching feline’s emerald depths, showed in the bared canines and ears pressed flat to his head. The leopard stalked forward, shoulder blades rising and falling in time with every lethal step.
    Peter.
    She released a soft gasp, and with it, the world faded. Never in all her life had she seen anything so magnificent. Sleek and powerful, dozens of black-on-brown ringed spots covered his snow-white coat. She wanted to sink her fingers into his pelt, push through the hard outer layer to experience the downy soft fur next to the skin.
    Peter hissed. The sound forced her one involuntary step backward. He strode closer, his large paws easily traversing the snow even with his two hundred and fifty pounds of pure power. With every graceful step, sinewy muscles shifted. Behind him, his long, thick tail slashed back and forth.
    “Back in your truck,” Grady demanded, pulling her behind him.
    A vicious snarl echoed and Peter crouched low. His nose wrinkled, narrowing his feline eyes. Eva stared straight ahead, mesmerized by the feral beauty of the predator in front of her.
    “God damn it!” Grady hissed. “Get. In. The. Truck.” With a hand on her shoulder, he shoved her in the direction of her vehicle.
    Mistake.
    Peter lunged. In the sunless morning, the twin points of the leopard’s canines aimed at Grady’s throat gleamed.

Chapter Six
     
    Idiotic Pard Rule #1: Never show yourself to humans. Well, fuck the God damned rules. Any man stupid enough to touch what didn’t belong to him deserved what he got. The cop Eva called Grady would learn what a leopard could do to an asshole who pissed in the wrong pool.
    He was just about to jump in when the motherfucker hit her. He actually hit her.
    Eva’s cry of pain echoed, ripping through his meager self-control. A rage unlike any he’d ever experienced drove him from the shadows. Muscles clenched. Saliva pooled in his open mouth. He could already taste the man’s blood.
    With coiled strength, he lunged at his target.
    “Don’t,” Eva screamed. “You’ll hurt him!” Raw panic in her voice touched something deep inside him.
    Fear poured off her, its stench a rancid sting on the back of his tongue. Did she think he would hurt her? Her gaze darted between him and the other man, shifted back to him. No. She was afraid for the cop. Would she try to save the asshole by putting herself in the line of fire? Uncertainty drew him back at the last moment. He stopped two feet short of slashing the man’s stomach wide open.
    An unsatisfied rumble emanated from the depths of his chest. The feral rage stole his every thought and his ears flattened against his head. His nose wrinkled in fury, sending a clear message. Back the fuck off. The cop’s jaw dropped. On the verge of pacing, he swished his tail back and forth, waiting for a chance to release his anger.
    Blood. He wanted the man’s salty life force surging into his mouth.
    Eva drew in several deep breaths, each exhale coming with a cloud of moisture. The cold reddened her cheeks and chapped her lips. With no hat or gloves, Eva’s teeth chattered with each tremor of cold stealing through her. Goose bumps pebbled her exposed legs. She was freezing.
    The instinct to warm her warred with the urge to rip the other man to pieces. Already the left side of her bruised face