He feared his rising anger at his brother was because Gage was voicing his own concerns. Bijou didn’t belong in the homes on the bayou—and he did. She didn’t belong in a fucked-up leopard’s lair—she was made for far greater things. Money meant little to him, it was nothing more than another tool to get through life, and the amount she had was nearly unimaginable. It wasn’t her money, it was Bijou herself. She was elegant, a lady, just as Gage had said. Her passion came from her leopard driving her. What happened if her leopard didn’t emerge?

“A week ago you didn’t even know she was in town, Remy. Now you’re actin’ like an idiot, drawin’ some crazed fan out so you can be a hero.”

Remy smiled, but his eyes had gone cat. He knew because he was seeing distorted heat images. “You don’ have to like her, Gage, but you do have to be respectful. I’ll defend her with everything I am. She’s my choice. And just for your information, I would have been an idiot and drawn out any stalker if a woman had come to me for help. Bijou didn’t ask. I insisted.”

Gage opened his mouth and closed it abruptly, shaking his head. “You may have bitten off more than you can chew with this one, brother. But I’ll back your play. You want Bijou Breaux, then I’m all for it.”

Remy inhaled sharply. The stalker had left his scent everywhere throughout Remy’s apartment. He had cleaned up the scenes forensically, but he couldn’t fail to leave behind his scent. Unlike the crime scene the serial killer had left behind, there was no blood and fear to contaminate the nose of a leopard.

“Have you come across this scent before?” he asked Gage.

Gage took another sniff. “No. But I’ll know him if I run into him.”

“Have all the boys come in and smell him. I want them all lookin’. The moment someone scents him, have them call me.” Remy sounded like he was giving orders—and he was. He was head of his household and his brothers would do as he said. When Drake wasn’t in residence, the rest of the lair relied on him as well. He wanted all of them out searching for Bijou’s stalker.

The man’s anger toward Bijou was escalating, but his rage toward Remy was all consuming. Remy stepped closer to the long wall in his sitting room—the wall the stalker had nearly destroyed. There was a picture ripped from the tabloid of Remy kissing Bijou and another frame where he’d lifted his head and looked directly at the camera. His body was slightly in front of Bijou’s blocking her face from the shot, but there was no denying it was her.