Leopard's Prey by Christine Feehan Page B

sending alarms shrieking through her entire body. She was lost when she was in his presence—so consumed by childhood hero worship she couldn’t think straight.
    Remy’s fingers tightened around hers and he stopped abruptly right in front of the stairs to the voodoo shop. She was so close to him she felt the heat pouring off his body and tiny electrical charges seemed to arc between them. Bijou stared at the buttons of his shirt. Self-preservation was an absolute must. He had other ideas. He lifted her chin with one finger, forcing her gaze to jump to his.
    There was an invitation to laughter there and something more. It was that dark, rising lust mixed with genuine affection that fascinated her. He bent his head slowly toward hers even as he gathered her closer, shifting his body just slightly. His lips whispered against hers, the merest of brushes, but the feel of his mouth against hers was too exquisite to just pull away.
    “I’m goin’ to kiss you, Blue. So don’ do anythin’ rash.”
    She blinked at him. “Why?”
    “Because I know a thing or two about makin’ a public statement.” His hand slipped to her throat, and he lowered his head that scant few millimeters to her mouth.
    Time stopped for her. The ground under her feet shifted. His mouth came down on hers, his lips moving, teasing, teeth nipping at her bottom lip so that she gasped. Instantly his tongue swept inside, tangling with hers, taking command. He led her right over a cliff where there was no way back. Lights danced at the back of her eyes and her body seemed to melt against his. He was the one who broke the kiss, slowly easing back, kissing the corners of her mouth before lifting his head.
    She blinked rapidly, trying to come back down to earth when she’d been soaring across the sky just moments earlier. Taking a breath, Remy’s hands steadying her, she glanced around, hoping for a rescue. Her body didn’t feel her own anymore. He’d laid claim to her and all he’d done was kiss her.
    Blinking again, she focused on the buildings across the street. Two cars were parked close together and both had cameras 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