Leopard's Wrath (A Leopard Novel) Read online

  “The hit wasn’t necessarily put out by either of those families,” Mitya finally said. “We’re just speculating, Sevastyan. We don’t know if a hit was even ordered. The father could have been done by an actual robber. As for the car, that could have been anyone not happy with the family for transporting something successfully for anyone, let alone the families in Houston.”

  Sevastyan nodded. “Actually, that’s true. And it might fit better. If the Dovers had done something against either family, I would think it would be known by most of the other families, but Elijah says there’s not a hint of a problem between them. Elijah used their driving services on more than one occasion and he said they always delivered, the reputation was solid.”

  “If I can, I’ll meet with Ania’s father. If I get the chance, I’ll question him. He won’t want his only child to go against a powerful crime family. Even if she succeeded in killing any of the family members, the others would come after her and kill her. He would know that.”

  Sevastyan shook his head. “Let me question him, Mitya. You concentrate on Ania. She needs to be brought in fast if you really think she’s close to the Han Vol Dan. The last thing you want is for her to go into heat and for every leopard within a hundred miles to go after her.”

  Mitya pushed down the instant surge of ferocious adrenaline caused by the idea of anyone getting near his woman. His leopard was vicious, raking and clawing, trying to tear his way out. Mitya breathed away the fury and got himself under control. Being a leopard shifter meant absolute control at all times.

  “We can make the call when we’re there at the house. Get as much information as possible on both families and anyone else who used their services from Elijah. Contact Drake. He seems to be able to acquire intelligence on anyone fast and accurately.” Drake Donovan owned a company specializing in the recovery of kidnap victims. His people were renowned as bodyguards, and many were shifters. He had contacts all over the world, and his people were well trained in gathering information.

  Sevastyan nodded. “Will do. Be cautious, Mitya. We don’t know everything about Ania Dover and her family yet. You have a price on your head, and it’s a big one.”

  Mitya couldn’t help but smile. “Do you think Ania is an assassin?”

  “I think that family has ties to Russia. I also think something isn’t right there. That means you watch yourself and don’t get too caught up in her leopard emerging.”

  Mitya laughed. He couldn’t help it. His life was an endless empty fight with a bloodthirsty leopard. He had steel bars on his windows and metal plates on doors so his leopard couldn’t break free while he slept. The women he occasionally saw in order to get some relief, he could barely look at or speak to. Interacting with them was dangerous. It was fuck and leave as fast as possible or his leopard would try to tear him apart to get at them. His life was pure hell.

  If he were in the least bit a good man, he would stay away from Ania Dover, not drag her down into the mud with him, but she was his only chance at salvation. At life. He’d tried to turn his back on her. He’d resisted going to the bakery so many times, but in the end, he was consumed with the need to see her. Just to sit beside her and feel peace. Calm. Something he hadn’t had in all the years he could remember.

  Ania Dover had become an obsession. She represented hope. More, she was good. She radiated kindness and compassion. She was everything he wasn’t. To have his cousin imply that she might be an assassin hired to kill him was so absurd he actually found himself laughing. Real laughter.

  Sevastyan glared at him. “It’s not funny, Mitya. You never take precautions with your life. I’m not going to let you just throw it away. I know what’s in your head half the time, and it isn’t good.”

  Mitya lifted his head and met his cousin’s eyes. He knew Sevastyan could see his leopard because heat banded. He felt every bit as deadly a predator as his cat was. He knew it showed on his face when Sevastyan went still.

  “She will be claimed tonight, and there is nothing she can do about it, nothing she can say to stop me. She belongs to me, and I will have her. That makes me a fucking criminal, not her. It wouldn’t matter if she was contracted to kill me. She is mine. She’ll learn to live with that because she has no choice. Does that make me like my father? Probably. He shaped me into a predator. The only difference is, once I have her, I’ll do everything in my power to make her happy, and she’ll be protected from any danger. Do you understand, Sevastyan? Her protection will come first.”

  “I hear you, Mitya.”

  Mitya heard the resignation in his cousin’s voice. There was no denying what Mitya was, what he’d been shaped into. Twisted into. He was a killer, just like his father. He chose to wield his power for as much good as possible. It was why he had left the bratya and his father’s lair to follow his cousins, trying to build a decent life for themselves. That had proven to be impossible. Then Drake Donovan had come along and given them all purpose.

  Mitya glanced at his watch. It was time. This was the night he would claim his lady, and hopefully his leopard would be satisfied. He realized that as much as he wanted his leopard to settle and feel contentment, claiming Ania Dover was really for himself. For him. He needed her. He was already addicted to her smile. To her brightness. But it was the way she brought peace to him that he needed. Once he felt that, he knew he couldn’t live without it.

  * * *

  • • •

  THE doorbell pealed. It didn’t ring. It was melodious but obnoxious at the same time. Ania sat on the floor, dressed in mint green sweats that dipped low, showing her belly button and the little piercing where the chain hooked around her and danced low on her hips. Her crop top was made of the same mint green material and hugged her breasts but dropped just below them. It was her favorite evening wear. Comfortable. Warm but not too warm so she could enjoy the fire. She was barefoot, and her wild hair was down. The mass tumbled around her face and down her back.

  “Melania!” she called out to the housekeeper, but then realized it was late. Melania had gone home. She pushed off the carpet and stalked through the great room to the foyer to pull open the door with a little more force than necessary. Annoyance died on her lips.

  He stood there. Mitya. Her heart clenched hard, leapt and then began pounding. Her sex clenched right along with her heart. He was bigger than she remembered. So gorgeous. A rough, rugged, very scary man, and he made her weak with wanting him. He looked unbelievable in his suit. His hair was dark and a little too long, as if he needed a haircut but couldn’t be bothered. It didn’t detract in the least from his good looks. Neither did the scars on his face.

  She just stood there, shocked. No words came out. His gaze moved over her and there was possession stamped plainly into the sensual lines on his face. She tried not to be thrilled by that, but she was. Her entire body responded to him, going electric. Her blood went hot and raced through her veins to pool low and wicked.

  She had to say something. “Mitya.” That was it. That was all she could get out. She was acutely aware of the fact that she was exposing far too much skin, never a good idea when she wanted a man with every breath she took.

  “We have a dinner date.”

  “We do?” Her voice was faint. She found herself staring up at him. He seemed so . . . invincible. So beautiful. A man. All masculine and . . . She hoped she wasn’t saying any of her thoughts aloud.

  He put a hand on her belly, his fingers splayed wide. His palm rested on her bare skin, and at once that spot felt so hot she thought she might melt. He applied a little force and she stepped back. He stepped in, crowding her. She gave way again, and the next thing she knew, Sevastyan was in, followed by two more men carrying large bags of something that smelled so delicious her stomach reacted.

  She hadn’t realized it, but suddenly she was starving. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten. She tried to look stern, intending to send Mitya an
d his crew away, but when she opened her mouth, Mitya leaned down and brushed his lips over hers. A mere touch. Barely there. She felt it all the way to her bones. Her sex fluttered. Her breath caught in her lungs. She grew even hotter, her breasts aching. She could only stare up at him as he took her hand and walked confidently through the house to the kitchen and the large rectangular alcove considered a breakfast nook. It was a much more intimate space than the large formal dining room, which was to the left of the kitchen.

  The two men set out plates, silverware, napkins and even glasses. They had a bucket of ice and were chilling a sparkling cider, which was her favorite. How did he know? She just stood there, her hand enveloped in his while the men set the food out. It wasn’t just any food. The shrimp were grilled in a ginger-lime sauce and set over jasmine rice with grilled asparagus. Strangely, it was another of her favorite dishes.

  She looked up at him. “You’ve been doing your homework.” She didn’t know if she should be creeped out or flattered.

  He brought her hand up to his chest and pressed her palm over his heart. “You matter. Of course I’m going to try to find out the things you like.”

  He was so matter-of-fact, as if it was the most important thing in the world to research her likes and dislikes, that she almost bought into it. Almost. Instead of protesting as she should have and making them leave, she sank into the chair he pulled out for her. The two men who had carried in the food left. Sevastyan followed them to the door, giving them orders as they went, speaking in Russian to them.

  Mitya followed her gaze. “I’m sorry, Ania, I can do nothing about my cousin’s obsession with watching out for me. They will be outside, though.”

  “And Sevastyan?” She could see he wasn’t going outside. He seemed to be making himself at home in the great room, right in front of the fire where she’d been all cozy. She picked up her fork. Maybe food was the better deal.

  Mitya gave her a faint smile. “I prefer to ignore him. He should answer to me, but it seems I answer to him.”

  “Did you have me investigated?” She nearly moaned when she put a bite of shrimp in her mouth. It was that good.

  “Not me. That was Sevastyan. He would investigate the saints if they came into contact with me. I highly doubt that will ever happen. How is your father doing?”

  She blinked, everything in her stilling. “My father?” she echoed, reaching for the chilled glass of sparkling cider.

  “You mentioned your father was ill. I wondered how he was doing,” Mitya persisted in that same easy tone.

  She let her breath out. “He’s slipping away. I have a nurse with him during the day and Annalise with him at night. He knows her and is comforted by her presence. I was just with him and he was sleeping. He goes days without speaking and then suddenly rallies.” She didn’t know why she told him the truth or why she allowed pain and grief to slip into her voice. She didn’t share news of her father with anyone. If he was going to die, he was going to do it without aid from an outside source.

  “I’m sorry, kotyonok, I had no idea he was that bad. Is there anything I can do to help?”

  Just the offer of sympathy had her choking up. She didn’t have anyone to share her grief with. That burden of her father’s care for the last three years. She didn’t have family left. Or friends. She’d learned not to trust anyone. She was positive her family had been murdered and her father’s death, although slow, was the result of murder.

  Ania didn’t dare look at Mitya. He’d seen the shine of tears in her eyes, and she didn’t do that. She didn’t cry in front of other people. She took another bite, mixing the ginger and lime sauce with the rice. It was exquisite. He’d called her kitten in his native language, and for some reason that soft endearment sounded like he meant it. That choked her up as well.

  “Ania.” Mitya waited.

  She had no idea why, when she didn’t want to look at him, she found his voice so compelling that she had to raise her eyes to his.

  “I’m truly sorry. I didn’t have any idea, or I would have waited to bring his condition up until after you ate.”

  No one had shown her kindness or caring in a long time, and it felt good. She hadn’t eaten real food in a while. She tended to grab what she could on the run. No one had thought to bring her a meal, nor had anyone ever bothered to find out her likes and dislikes. It was difficult to look away from his mesmerizing eyes. She knew she was falling under his spell, and that was just plain dangerous.

  “It’s all right, Mitya. I appreciate that you cared enough to ask.” Had anyone asked after her father in the last three years? She’d taken over the business, and very few clients had asked about him, though he’d worked for them for so many years. That had taught her something. The clients they had were extremely wealthy. Her family was considered the help, and it was not worth noticing that her father had all but disappeared. They weren’t friends and they never would be. It didn’t matter that the Dover business was extremely successful, and they were wealthy in their own right; they were still considered outsiders.

  “Have you explored every means to help him?”

  She nodded, concentrating for a moment on eating another bite of shrimp. This bite didn’t just taste exquisite; it tasted like caring. She found herself relaxing, wanting to talk to someone about her father.

  “I went to doctor after doctor and surgeon after surgeon. All said the same thing. If they tried to remove the bullet, he would die. Maybe it would have been better to just try it. This has been a slow death for him. And sometimes quite painful. He was robbed . . .”

  “I read about it when Sevastyan gave me the report. Do you really believe he was robbed? After what happened to your grandparents and mother, it seems an unlikely coincidence that your father would have been randomly attacked. Sevastyan doesn’t believe it, and he’s rarely wrong. He has a sense about these things.”

  Ania desperately wanted someone to talk things over with, but she was cautious. She’d been biding her time for three long years. She might have to wait longer to set her plan in motion. Telling someone she didn’t believe that her father was randomly chosen to be robbed might very well ruin everything. Could she trust him? He was a man involved in criminal activity of some kind. She was certain of it. Were the families all connected?

  “Kotyonok.” He whispered in Russian. Softly. Gently. Almost tenderly.

  The way he called her “kitten” twisted at her heart. He definitely used the term as an endearment, his velvet voice wrapping around each separate syllable like a caress. He was a tough, dangerous man, and yet whenever he was around her, he seemed to be gentle and sweet.

  “Don’t look at me as if you fear me. I would lay down my life for you. If you’re in some kind of danger, you need to tell me. I have resources. I was raised a certain way. It wasn’t a good way, but it did turn me into a weapon, and I’ll be that for you if it is needed.” He picked up his glass of sparkling cider and regarded her over the rim. “Some of us can hear the truth or a lie when it is spoken. I hope you are able to hear the truth.”

  She couldn’t look away, mesmerized by him. Every single cell in her body was aware of him. Tuned to him. That thing inside her, wild and feral, was aware of him. Unlike her, the entity wasn’t afraid of him. Her body grew hot, her skin feeling too tight. Her jaw ached. Her skull felt as if it might explode.

  Mitya rose and held out his hand to her. She could barely see with the heat banding in front of her eyes. At the same time, the quiet need of him, that smoldering fire deep inside, exploded into a fierce furnace. She gasped and let him pull her out of her chair and into his arms. His mouth came down on hers and the world tilted. Spun. Would never be the same.

  Fire poured through her. Hot. Addicting. His taste like no other. It was as if once his mouth was on hers, he planted some spicy aphrodisiac inside her, setting up a craving for life. She closed her eyes and gave herself up to him, letting
him take complete control. He took her over, the kisses changing, becoming more aggressive, rougher, more demanding. She followed his lead. Gave him everything he wanted and more. She held nothing back because she couldn’t. It was impossible when his mouth was a haven. A sinful temptation. Absolute perfection.

  He murmured to her as he moved with her. She felt as if she were floating. His hands stroked her body, and the heat grew so intense she thought she might melt. He turned her away from him, pressing her against the wall, his mouth on her neck.

  “Do you feel her rising?” he whispered. His teeth scraped back and forth in a sensual rhythm against the wild pulse beating in her neck. He kissed his way to her nape and then bit down gently on the junction between neck and shoulder, making her shiver with need. His other hand pushed the little crop top up along her back to her neck. “Do you feel her need, Ania? The way she grows so hot?”

  Her skin was hot. Scorching. Between her legs, her sex throbbed and burned. Her clit pulsed and pounded. Her breasts ached for his touch. She wanted him with every breath she drew, and she was panting raggedly. Desperate for air. Desperate for him.

  He kissed his way up her spine and to her shoulder. “Your skin is like satin. So soft. Softer even than it looks. Hold still, kotyonok, very still. Let them come together just for a moment.”

  She felt the slide of fur on her bare skin. A blast of hot breath. She tried to turn her head, but his hands refused to allow it. She couldn’t move, and her heart thudded hard in her chest. Fear kicked in. She was all primal instinct in that moment, but it was too late, and he had her trapped between his solid, muscular form and the wall.

  Teeth clamped down on her shoulder, just below the bone. Pain burst through her body. She cried out, choking with fear and excitement. Deep inside she felt that feral creature rising toward the surface to meet the male leopard. Even though she couldn’t see him, Ania knew it was a leopard and he was big. Very large. Very strong. She could feel his power and absolute determination. For a moment she felt the two leopards come together, male and female. Bonding. She knew that was what it was. Her female wholly embraced the male as her mate.