He didn’t understand why her female hadn’t emerged and it worried him just a little bit. He was certain he was right about Bijou and her cat, he’d even felt his male reacting to what he thought was her female, yet Bijou hadn’t been forced to shift.

He pushed both hands through his hair and studied her face. There were shadows there and around her neck little smudges and love bites. The back of her neck had been marked by his cat, claiming her. She was sore, bruised and feeling guilty as sin. How did he explain her leopard to her?

“Sex will never be like that with anyone else,” Remy said honestly, “so you’re better off sticking with me.”

That faint smile appeared again. “Or I could be dead in a week after spending time with you.” A blush crept up her chest and neck. She still wouldn’t look at him.

He couldn’t imagine how she felt. She’d shed every inhibition and had absolutely no idea why. If he blurted out, “Hon, you’re a leopard, just like me,”’ she’d run for the hills and he couldn’t blame her. He should have tried to explain before they’d ever gotten started, but he was too far gone, too far into the frenzied thrall of mating.

“It would be a hell of a way to go,” Remy said, injecting humor into his voice. He could still lose her. She was out of her depth and fighting not to be ashamed of herself when there was nothing to be ashamed of.

“Wouldn’t it?” She tilted her chin. “Why haven’t you ever married?”

That was a loaded question if he ever heard one. He turned her around and picked up the spray nozzle so he could wash her hair. “I never found the right person. For me it was far better to be alone than to be with the wrong woman. I’ll never be an easy man to live with and my woman will have to put up with a lot, so there was no doubt in my mind I’d better find the right one if I was going to be with someone.”

He massaged her scalp, trying to ease some of the tension from her. The bite mark on the back of her neck was deeper than he had intended. He couldn’t help but lean forward and brush a kiss over the wound. She seemed to drift a little while he rinsed, towel dried and then braided her hair into a long, thick rope.

Bijou suddenly jerked away, turning her head toward him, her eyes wide with fear and shock. “Remy.” She said his name like a talisman, her white knight, the only man she could trust in a frightening situation.