Her dark gaze searched his face with a mixture of trepidation, confusion and serious speculation. That was his Saria, refusing to retreat. He kissed her. Hard. Deep. There was heat rushing like a firestorm through his system. She belonged just where she was, against his body, his mouth on hers. He could stay there forever. His hand slipped over her back, down to her bottom, to press her tightly against him. He kissed her until neither could breathe. When he lifted his head, she had that dazed look of desire he’d come to relish in her eyes.

“We’ve got to get this done,” he murmured, against her lips.

“Get what done?”

He laughed softly and kissed her again. “Take me to the dump site, honey. We’re going to have company soon and I’d rather we’re back at the bed-and-breakfast.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Saria blinked up at him.

He kissed her because he had to. He could live on her kisses. He’d kissed other women, but there hadn’t been—fireworks. Soaring. Lust crawling through his body mixing with something he feared was fast becoming love. Could it really happen that fast? Falling into her eyes? Addicted to her taste? Needing her until the clawing ache consumed him? He had seen a few of his friends fall, and he’d thought they’d gone a little over the edge. Had it been like this?

One moment he’d recognized her as his leopard’s choice, but the next, his leopard hadn’t mattered all that much because she was his choice. He could barely take his eyes from her. He loved that little stubborn chin. Those enormous dark eyes with all those beautiful golden flecks and sweeping long lashes. Her mouth, so soft, so hot and perfect. Her straight little nose. Her matter-of-fact way of approaching life head-on.

“You have to let go of me if we’re going to find the sites again,” Saria pointed out.

She stayed still, her arms around his neck, her face turned up to his, her body pressed close. Drake could feel her soft breasts against the heavy muscles of his chest. There was something so steady about Saria, like the rain forest he loved. The flow of the river, the wind blowing through the trees. The air he breathed. She was everything wrapped into one woman. He might be losing his mind, his thoughts so damned poetic he wanted to laugh at himself. What was it about her?

“Drake?” Her lashes drifted down over those dark, dark eyes.

“Yes, baby?”

“Kiss me again.”

“If I do, we might not get out of here.”

“Does it matter?” Her lashes fanned her cheek. Her lips parted in invitation, her face turned up to his.

He heard the soft groan escape his throat. This wasn’t her wanton leopard, this was Saria, her body moving restlessly against his, an innocent awakening, a giving of herself to him. There was no way to resist and he didn’t try. He lowered his head and took possession of that soft, amazing mouth. One hand slid beneath her T-shirt, fingers seeking the expanse of warm skin. She had a velvety, rose-petal feel to her skin accompanied by the faint scent of peaches.

He stroked her flat belly with the pads of his fingers, absorbing the feel of her, committing her to memory. Saria’s tongue danced and dueled with his, stroking and caressing, drawing him deeper under her spell. His hand closed over her breast, taking the slight weight of her into his palm. There was always something exquisite about a woman’s form, but Saria, he found, was different to him. The moment his hand claimed her breast, lightning jolted through him, a white-hot electrical surge that went straight to his cock. He felt full, bursting, yet at the same time, his heart seemed to leap right out of his chest. The mixture of such intense lust with such tender love was both shocking and exhilarating, an aphrodisiac he hadn’t expected. He hadn’t expected his heart to be involved so fast, but he’d long ago learned journeys took their own turns, and with this one, he was in one hundred percent.

“You’re such a miracle, Saria,” he murmured, his mouth wandering over her face. He kissed her eyes, her nose, the corners of her mouth and that sweet, stubborn chin.

“I’m just me, Drake,” she sounded bemused.

He smiled down at her. “And that, honey, is the miracle.” He trailed kisses down her throat, his teeth nibbling along her neck, down to her breasts as he bunched her shirt in one fist. His mouth closed over one breast, suckling strong right through the thin lace of her bra. She cried out and arched against him, pressing more deeply into him. His hand came up to roughly massage the soft mound.

A bird called loudly, answered by another one. Drake’s leopard leapt and was answered by Saria’s female. Drake actually felt the rush of fur sliding under her skin, the scorching heat, and he inhaled the wild, exotic scent. His tongue lapped gently at her nipple once more before reluctantly lifting his head.

“Damn it, honey. We’re out of time.”

She let out a little gasp of shock, as if she was coming back from a great distance. He dragged down her shirt, and steadied her, as he lifted his head, scenting the air. “They’re coming at us as men, rather than leopards. That’s not good, Saria. Get back to the boat.”

She looked around her for the rifle. She’d set it against the trunk of a tree without realizing it. She shook her head. “Seriously, Drake, I don’ know what I’m doin’ when you’re kissin’ me.”

Drake put his arm around her and drew her beneath his shoulder, holding her close for a moment. “I should have known they’d come after us as fast as they could. They don’t want the other members of their lair to know what they’re up to. Will Charisse tell on her brother?”