He’d thought of that. He also was a little worried about what three leopard-driven, lust-filled, out-of-control men would do to Saria if they caught her alone. He was certain Armande had attacked her once. Where the hell was the leadership?

“I might have to kill them.” He said it straight, with no apologies. “They’re hunting us and I can’t take any chances with your life.”

“I’m well aware of the position they’re puttin’ us in.” She shot him an emotion-laden look over her shoulder. She kept moving, winding her way through the heavier reeds and tangles of brush. “Don’ step there, not even on the edge. The crust is thin here and you’ll fall through.”

He didn’t bother attempting to hide their tracks. These men had grown up in the swamp and were hunters. They were also leopards with all the instincts and advantages of their cats. He stepped exactly in Saria’s footsteps as she made her way through a narrow strip of land that was barely thick enough to support them. The reeds began to thin and brush took its place. Rather than cypress trees with the knobby-kneed root systems, evergreen and pine appeared, the grove growing thicker as they went deeper into it.

“You’ve been here—a lot. I thought no one came here.”

She sent him a small grin, not breaking stride. “It was the one place no one thought to look for me. I’ve been comin’ here since I was a child. It’s my private refuge. No one else comes here, so I found a place around the other side to pull my boat onto shore and hide it.”

“You’re taking us through every pitfall you know of, aren’t you?” The terrain had gone wet and soft again. He skirted around the areas she did. His leopard shifted inside him, stepping far from the spots that looked as if they might be quicksand. The Spanish-moss-covered cypress trees were back, growing in the thin soil. Around them palmettos, irises and marsh grass vied for space with tangled vines.

Turtles rested on logs and one sat on the bank. Birds were everywhere. Saria didn’t worry about disturbing them. The buzz of insects was constant, becoming a kind of music in his ears. He found he was becoming accustomed to the sounds of the swamp. He knew the rain forest in the way she did her environment and he followed her without question.

She suddenly tugged at his arm to avoid stepping near a tree concealing a water moccasin.

“Should have seen that,” he admitted.

“You were looking at my butt,” she accused.

“So true.” And damn it all, it was true. He figured he had a little time off while he followed her. “The view is spectacular.”