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Praise for Christine Feehan’s Leopard Novels
“Punctuated with plenty of danger and delicious tension . . . a wild ride with a sizzling, passionate romance at its heart.”
—BookPage
“A really steamy, can’t-catch-your-breath romance.”
—Fresh Fiction
“The premise is raw and gritty; the romance is spirited and provocative; the characters are flawed, colorful and energetic.”
—The Reading Cafe
“Heart-stopping action. Crazy sexy-time scenes. Tender emotions. . . . [A] little bit of something for everyone who enjoys a solid paranormal romance.”
—Harlequin Junkie
“With a Feehan novel you know you will get well-developed characters and an engaging plot, so when you add a dose of sizzling sexuality, you have an unbeatable mix.”
—RT Book Reviews
“A bloody good time.”
—I Smell Sheep
“Heady, passionate, seductive. . . . Ms. Feehan does a fantastic job of building up to the climax for a smashing finale that leaves you breathless and satisfied.”
—Smexy Books
“Readers . . . will be seduced by this erotic adventure.”
—Publishers Weekly
“Another wild ride . . . enter the lair of the shapeshifters.”
—Romance Reviews Today
“A passionate, jam-packed adventure.”
—Fallen Angel Reviews
“The passion runs high and the sex is hot!”
—The Romance Readers Connection
“Sizzling and exciting . . . surprises erupt at every turn.”
—Fresh Fiction
“A phenomenal story. . . . Christine Feehan knows how to weave a tale of action, suspense and paranormal passion that has earned her so many fans and keeps bringing new ones.”
—Romance Junkies
Titles by Christine Feehan
The GhostWalker Novels
TOXIC GAME
COVERT GAME
POWER GAME
SPIDER GAME
VIPER GAME
SAMURAI GAME
RUTHLESS GAME
STREET GAME
MURDER GAME
PREDATORY GAME
DEADLY GAME
CONSPIRACY GAME
NIGHT GAME
MIND GAME
SHADOW GAME
The Drake Sisters Novels
HIDDEN CURRENTS
TURBULENT SEA
SAFE HARBOR
DANGEROUS TIDES
OCEANS OF FIRE
The Leopard Novels
LEOPARD’S WRATH
LEOPARD’S RUN
LEOPARD’S BLOOD
LEOPARD’S FURY
WILD CAT
CAT’S LAIR
LEOPARD’S PREY
SAVAGE NATURE
WILD FIRE
BURNING WILD
WILD RAIN
The Sea Haven/Sisters of the Heart Novels
BOUND TOGETHER
FIRE BOUND
EARTH BOUND
AIR BOUND
SPIRIT BOUND
WATER BOUND
The Shadow Riders Novels
SHADOW WARRIOR
SHADOW KEEPER
SHADOW REAPER
SHADOW RIDER
The Torpedo Ink Novels
VENGEANCE ROAD
JUDGMENT ROAD
The Carpathian Novels
DARK ILLUSION
DARK SENTINEL
DARK LEGACY
DARK CAROUSEL
DARK PROMISES
DARK GHOST
DARK BLOOD
DARK WOLF
DARK LYCAN
DARK STORM
DARK PREDATOR
DARK PERIL
DARK SLAYER
DARK CURSE
DARK HUNGER
DARK POSSESSION
DARK CELEBRATION
DARK DEMON
DARK SECRET
DARK DESTINY
DARK MELODY
DARK SYMPHONY
DARK GUARDIAN
DARK LEGEND
DARK FIRE
DARK CHALLENGE
DARK MAGIC
DARK GOLD
DARK DESIRE
DARK PRINCE
Anthologies
EDGE OF DARKNESS
(with Maggie Shayne and Lori Herter)
DARKEST AT DAWN
(includes Dark Hunger and Dark Secret)
SEA STORM
(includes Magic in the Wind and Oceans of Fire)
FEVER
(includes The Awakening and Wild Rain)
FANTASY
(with Emma Holly, Sabrina Jeffries, and Elda Minger)
LOVER BEWARE
(with Fiona Brand, Katherine Sutcliffe, and Eileen Wilks)
HOT BLOODED
(with Maggie Shayne, Emma Holly, and Angela Knight)
Specials
DARK CRIME
THE AWAKENING
DARK HUNGER
MAGIC IN THE WIND
A JOVE BOOK
Published by Berkley
An imprint of Penguin Random House LLC
penguinrandomhouse.com
Copyright © 2019 by Christine Feehan
Excerpt from Vendetta Road copyright © 2019 by Christine Feehan
Penguin Random House supports copyright. Copyright fuels creativity, encourages diverse voices, promotes free speech, and creates a vibrant culture. Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without permission. You are supporting writers and allowing Penguin Random House to continue to publish books for every reader.
A JOVE BOOK, BERKLEY, and the BERKLEY & B colophon are registered trademarks of Penguin Random House LLC.
Ebook ISBN: 9781984803559
First Edition: November 2019
Cover art copyright © by Chris Cocozza
Cover design by Judith Lagerman
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Version_1
For Carol Cridge
Love our friendship! Thanks for the midnight (and two in the morning) conversations from your state to mine. The letters always come at exactly the right time.
For My Readers
Be sure to go to christinefeehan.com/members/ to sign up for my private book announcement list and download the free ebook of Dark Desserts. Join my community and get firsthand news, enter the book discussions, ask your questions and chat with me. Please feel free to email me at
[email protected]
. I would love to hear from you.
Acknowledgments
Thanks to Brian for keeping me on task. Thanks to Sheila and Kathie for looking through the pages for all those small mistakes that drive one crazy. Thanks to Domini for always editing, no matter how many times I ask her to go over the same book before we send it for additional editing.
Contents
<
br /> Praise for Christine Feehan’s Leopard Novels
Titles by Christine Feehan
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
For My Readers
Acknowledgments
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Excerpt from Vendetta Road
About the Author
1
MITYA Amurov stared out at the drops of rain running down the window. The town car had tinted glass, adding to the darkness, but it was more his sullen mood that kept him from seeing anything but the endless rain. His body hurt all the time. The bullets had torn into him; not only him, but his leopard as well, nearly killing both of them. He wished they had succeeded.
It wasn’t the first time he’d been shot, but the experience had left him doing physical therapy and working out harder than ever to recover—for what, he didn’t know. His leopard, always cruel, always clawing for freedom, had become nearly impossible to control. Or it was possible Mitya was just plain tired out from fighting every day of his life to keep his leopard under control. He honestly didn’t know or care which it was. He’d gone past the time of hope for any kind of life.
He knew what he was. He’d known from the time he was born, and his leopard had made him aware of what was in store for him. He’d grown up a criminal. A man who hurt others. A man who destroyed the lives of others. A man who killed. That was who and what he was, and no matter how hard he tried to climb out of that world of blood and treachery, there was no getting out. Never. He didn’t have much to live for.
His leopard leapt for the surface, clawing and raking, trying to take him over. As Mitya fought back to stay in control, he thought the cat had responded to his morose thoughts. But then the leopard swung around so abruptly, Mitya’s body did as well. He saw headlights beaming from the side of the road.
“Stop. Miron, stop.”
His driver instantly hit the brakes. Ahead of them, the car in front did the same. The one behind them did as well.
“Turn around and go back to that car, the one on the side of the road.”
They were on a fairly deserted road, one that led to the country home where he resided. It was in the hills above San Antonio, a beautiful estate where he could run his leopard without too much fear of accidentally running into a human being.
“Mitya,” Sevastyan cautioned. “What are you doing?” He turned his head to stare out into the darkness at the car. Headlights prevented any of them from actually seeing and identifying the vehicle. His hand slid to his gun, and he sent a quick hand signal to the others in the car to do the same and then spoke into his radio to ensure the other two cars filled with security were ready for anything.
Mitya didn’t answer, but the moment the car was parallel with the parked one, he opened his door before Sevastyan, his cousin and bodyguard, could stop him. A woman stood beside the rear of the car, one hand on a tire. The rain poured down on her, but she stood unbending in it, watching him come to her.
The closer he got to the woman, the crazier his leopard acted. Mitya was no longer a young man. Midthirties had caught up with him and he had lived a thousand lifetimes in each of those years, all of them with his leopard, and he didn’t recognize this behavior. The cat was still clawing at him, still trying for supremacy, but not in his usual aggressive, “out for blood and mayhem and the taste of human flesh” manner. No, this time he felt almost playful.
Playful? His leopard? There was no time; even in childhood, his leopard had never felt playful. They had a relationship, a tight one, and his leopard guarded him as carefully as Mitya watched over his leopard, but that hadn’t ever included play.
He was vaguely aware of his bodyguards rushing to surround him, of the furious set to Sevastyan’s shoulders that indicated Mitya was in for another one of his cousin’s lectures, but he didn’t care. He was too busy drinking in the sight of the woman standing there in the rain.
She was on the small side, not at all one of the many tall, svelte models he often fantasized about. He wouldn’t be doing that ever again. She wore a suit, a flared skirt that showed off her shapely legs and a short jacket that seemed to shape her waist, ribs and the curve of her breasts to perfection. All white. Not off-color or ivory, but actual white. The buttons were startling in that they were dark and shaped into cars. They made one want to look closer—which he found he didn’t mind doing in the least.
She looked vaguely familiar to him, but he knew if he’d ever met her, he would have remembered her. As he got closer to her, he realized the skirt and jacket had images of cars pressed into the material, so the fabric looked embossed. Her boots were the same dark color as the unusual buttons.
Her hair was thick and dark, a glossy pelt shining in the flashlights playing over her. Her eyes were large and for a moment shone back at them almost red, but she blinked several times. Enough that he barked an order to his men.
“Stop shining the light in her face.” He was already taking the heavy tire out from under her hand where she steadied it. “You will get dirty. Already you are soaked from the rain.”
“Thank you for stopping, but really, it isn’t necessary. I have changed tires before.”
Her voice made his gut clench hotly. Hell, even his cock reacted. It was the way she sounded. Husky. Like sin in the night. Whispers between two lovers. He wasn’t a good talker under the best of circumstances. If she needed someone killed, he was her man, but trying to sound suave and sophisticated was far beyond any ability he had.
Balancing the tire upright, he removed his suit jacket with one hand and tossed it to one of his bodyguards. He didn’t even glance up to see who it was. He indicated her car or his. “You should get out of the rain.” He tried not to sound like it was an order, but he’d been giving orders for a very long time, so he was pretty certain by the expression on her face that it had come out that way. She looked more amused than angry. Maybe a little confused. “To stay warm,” he added gruffly, and turned abruptly away from her.
“Boss,” Sevastyan hissed. “Miron can’t drive worth shit, but he can change a fuckin’ tire. Miron, get over here.”
“I can change her tire for her,” Mitya snapped, embarrassed that she might think he couldn’t. He wanted to stare at her for the rest of the night. He wanted his leopard to keep up the strange behavior. He sensed that this woman, in some way, calmed the dangerous predator in him, and having that respite, if only for a few moments, after a lifetime of sheer hell, was a miracle.
The woman’s gaze jumped to Miron and a small smile briefly curved her mouth, drawing his attention to it. She had the kind of mouth he’d fantasized over. Leopards were oral creatures, and he instantly became fixated on that perfect bow. He wanted her lips stretched around his cock, those enormous eyes looking right into his. The predator in his leopard might have turned playful, but that trait in him leapt to the forefront. He wanted to taste her. Bury himself in her. Claim her. Every possessive, jealous trait he hadn’t known he had leapt to the forefront.
“I’ve got it, boss,” Miron said and removed the tire from under his hand.
Mitya gestured toward his town car. She hesitated, looking at the force of men surrounding them.
Sevastyan, thankfully, had put his gun away. Vikenti and his brother Zinoviy hovered close, but both had also concealed their weapons. The brothers were large and looked exactly like what they were, as did Miron. Sevastyan appeared more civilized than all of them. None seemed as intimidating as Mitya. He looked to be a dangerous man. He carried himself that way without thinking about it. When one had been shaped into a weapon from birth, it didn’t go away until one died.
“I’m Mitya Amurov,” he said.
Again she hesitated, as if perhaps she’d heard of him. If that were so, he wouldn’t have been surprised. It was no secret he’d been shot. The news articles had a field day speculating whether or not he was part of a much larger crime family—and they would have been correct. Or at least, correct as they knew it.
Mitya held the door while Vikenti stupidly held the umbrella over him instead of the woman. He snapped at the man in Russian. “Her, Vikenti, be a gentleman.”
Vikenti immediately shoved the umbrella over her head, and she sent Mitya a smile that tightened his belly and put steel in his cock. She was beautiful. Truly beautiful. Up close he could see her skin. It looked so soft he longed to touch it. Her lashes were long and thick, and in the lights spilling from both cars’ headlights, even in the rain, her eyes looked more violet than blue. She stepped past Mitya and slid gracefully onto the heated leather seats.
Mitya was certain he detected a little sigh of pleasure when the warmth in the car enveloped her. Before he slipped in with her, he glared at his bodyguards, warning them off. Again, Sevastyan didn’t like it, but he nodded curtly. There was going to be another lecture, and Mitya knew he deserved it, but it didn’t matter. He needed this. His leopard needed it. It wasn’t like this was going to happen ever again, so he was taking it while he could, and consequences be damned. He took his jacket back, slid in beside her and slammed the door closed.
“Your bodyguards aren’t going to be very happy with you,” she said softly.
She smelled of rain. Of some exotic, spicy flower he couldn’t name. She’d been to a restaurant, and she’d been there with a man. He could smell the various scents on her. His leopard didn’t like that any more than he did, but he consoled himself with the fact that she had driven home alone. Due to his counterpart, he had an acute sense of smell, and he couldn’t detect the faintest scent of sex on her.