She couldn’t have moved if she’d wanted to. She found herself mesmerized—hypnotized—by his stare. She knew it could happen with a large cat. They had power in their focused stare, the enthralling moment when prey froze, waiting for that killing blow. She couldn’t breathe, locked there, trapped in the glow. She remained absolutely still. Silent. Unable to disobey him.

He turned his head slowly, breaking the contact, focusing on the two men striding across the clearing in the direction of the cabin. She didn’t turn her head, but rather shifted her gaze, afraid of making a movement, holding her breath. She could feel Conner beside her, utterly still, the tension coiling in him, his muscles locked and ready.

The men had blowguns in their hands and were advancing with care, watching the surrounding forest, stepping cautiously as was their way. Isabeau had seen them many times, moving with ease through the heavy brush. A leopard grunted. The two men froze, went back-to-back, hands steady on their weapons. Another leopard answered from a point in front of them. A third replied to their left. Conner made a sound, deep in his throat. Rio’s call came from behind them, cutting off their escape route, so that the men knew they were completely surrounded.

Gerald slowly put his weapon on the ground and raised his hands, one holding a book. When his nephew hesitated, he snapped a command and the younger man sullenly placed his blowgun beside his uncle’s. They stood with their hands raised.

“Stay put,” Conner warned. “If they make a wrong move toward you, I won’t be able to save their lives.”

“They’re my friends,” Isabeau protested.

“No one is our friend on a job. They could have changed their minds and want this handled a different way. Just do what I say and keep out of sight. Let me talk to them. If anything goes wrong, drop to the ground and cover your eyes. And, Isabeau . . .” He waited until her gaze met his. “This time do what I tell you.”

She nodded her head in agreement. She certainly didn’t want to see leopards killing two men she knew.

Conner moved out of the brush onto the edge of the clearing. “Gerald. Your brother said nothing of your coming.”

The two men swung around, the older one keeping his hands high and out from his body, the younger one going low, almost into a crouch, hands reaching for his weapon.

“You’d never make it, Will,” Conner said. “And you know it. You pick it up, I guarantee, you’re a dead man.”

Gerald snapped at his nephew in their own language. Conner had spent enough time in their village as a youngster to understand, but he politely pretended he didn’t know Will was being harshly reprimanded. They’d been friends once—good friends, but that had been a long time ago.