Leopard's Prey by Christine Feehan Page A

sticking out of the windows. A man stood in the street with a professional camera. She recognized him as one of the men who often followed her and took candid shots for tabloids. His name was Bob Carson and he often made her life miserable. Ryan Cooper had draped himself against a tree and he glared at her.
    “Remy,” she hissed, stiffening. “You’re goin’ to be in the tabloids and on the Internet and everywhere else. Are you crazy?”
    “It’s called making a statement, and I think I just did that. In a matter of minutes gossip and rumors will be spreadin’ like wildfire not just through New Orleans, but everywhere. I’m countin’ on those videos going up.”
    He looked so self-satisfied she wanted to smack him. “You have no idea what you’ve done. People are goin’ to think…” She trailed off, pressing a hand to her mouth. He had no idea the firestorm he just brought down on himself.
    “Exactly.” Smug satisfaction and male amusement.
    Bijou shook her head. “Remy, you don’ want the tabloids comin’ after you. They’ll follow you everywhere and say horrible things about us – and you. They could put your job in jeopardy. They’ll try hacking your phone and bugging your house. Nothin’ in your life will be sacred or off limits. I don’ want that for you.”
    He took her hand, ignoring her. “Let’s go inside.”
    “Remy, you aren’t listenin’ to me. I’ve consulted professionals about stalkers and you could have just set yourself up as a target…” She trailed off, understanding flooding her chaotic mind. He’d kissed her, not because he’d wanted to, but because he knew the paparazzi was there and would publish a picture of the two of them. He’d deliberately set himself up and made a complete fool of her in the process.
    She stiffened. “I’m leavin’.”
    “You’re goin’ inside where cameras aren’t going to catch that foul little temper of yours,” Remy said, reaching past her to open the door. He thrust her inside. “We can talk about this when we’re alone.”
    Bijou glared at him, waiting until he had closed the door. “I don’ need savin’, Remy. I’m not that eight-year-old child anymore, just in case you hadn’t noticed. You can quit being the white knight chargin’ around trying to save me.”
    He grinned at her. “I noticed, Blue. I wouldn’t have been kissing that eight-year-old like I just kissed you.” He looked past her, his smile widening. “Eulalie, so good to see you.”
    Bijou let out her breath and turned around to face the owner of the store. Eulalie Chachere was absolutely beautiful with flawless, dark skin and chocolate eyes with feathery lashes. She was tall, with an amazing figure and made Bijou feel like the little kid Remy had just reduced her to.
    “Have you come for a love potion, Remy?” Eulalie teased and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him on first one cheekbone and then the other.
    Bijou’s breath hissed out of her. Her fingers flexed. Ached. Her nail beds hurt. Her jaw felt as if someone had punched her. Eulalie’s form swam in front of her eyes, shimmering like a heat wave, red and yellow images.
    Remy kissed Eulalie’s cheek and then firmly put her to one side, keeping his body between Bijou’s and the voodoo priestess. He reached for Bijou’s hand, his fingers soothing the aches running down the back of her hand to her fingers. He rubbed her knuckles gently, although he didn’t look at her, which, she decided, was a good thing. Fury burned through her for no apparent reason. She had a visceral reaction to Eulalie so intimately and blatantly touching Remy as if they were old friends – or lovers.
    “I don’ think a love potion will be necessary… yet,” Remy said. “We’ll see. I may come beggin’ later.”
    Bijou ran her tongue over her teeth. Remy sounded like such a flirt. Clearly he flirted with every woman he came near. Unexpectedly she wanted to claw and rake at him – or Eulalie. She couldn’t