Drake stood up, an easy fluid motion, and reached behind him to offer his hand to Saria. He pulled her up easily and retained possession of her hand, keeping her tucked slightly behind him. The waves of anger coming off the approaching stranger were personal, rather than anger at them for trespassing.

“Armande Mercier,” Saria whispered.

Armande’s face darkened. He clearly heard her. If Drake was reading him correctly, his leopard was close, fighting for control.

“What the hell are you doing, Saria?” Armande demanded, striding right up to them, cutting into Drake’s personal space, obviously expecting him to step back. The move was practiced, an intimidation that had worked well for him in the past.

Drake hel fury s ground, remaining nearly nose to nose with the man. “Saria is guiding me through the swamp. I’m Drake Donovan, Mr. Bannaconni’s representative.” He poured authority into his voice. This man had been with the others the night before, but he hadn’t been the one to fight Drake. He could see the shock when it registered that he was associated with Jake Bannaconni, the man who owned the properties they all leased.

“That doesn’t give you any right . . .”

“I take it you aren’t familiar with the lease your father signed?” Drake cut him off. “Step back, Mercier. I don’t like anyone getting in my face.” When the other man hesitated, Drake stepped into him. “Do it now.” He kept his voice low, soft even, but the steel was there—and the threat.

Armande stared him directly in the eyes, but Drake’s cat was already leaping to meet the threat. His gaze remained unblinking, the stare of the predator, his eyes nearly completely golden rather than his usual green. Armande gave ground reluctantly.

“I don’t know why you would react with such anger and rudeness even if you thought we’d inadvertently trespassed on your land, but now that you know I have every legal right to be here, perhaps we can start over.”

“I don’ know you have a legal right to anything,” Armande snapped.

Behind him, Saria shifted her weight, but she didn’t react. Drake appreciated that she stayed quiet, waiting, as he was, to see what Armande intended. One wrong move and the man was certain to erupt into violence. Drake wanted to ease the tension. He needed to find a way to get the lair to accept his claim on Saria without bloodshed.

Armande’s furious gaze leapt from Drake to Saria. “Damn right I’m angry. I don’t want that little slut usin’ my land as her own personal brothel. Do you fuck all your clients, Saria, or just the rich ones?”