“You aren’t speaking a foreign language,” she hissed. He was making her more nervous. It wasn’t like every single man on the team hadn’t already pointed that out to her. Even Jeremiah.

His eyes narrowed. Burned. “What? If you aren’t going to take this threat seriously, Isabeau, you can damn well stay here. In the car.”

She threw her hands into the air. “Conner, you’re making me crazy. I’m scared enough. You don’t have to keep going over this. I know what we’re doing. I know what you have to do and I’m going to be all right with it. I’ll stay very close to Elijah, unless you’ve scared him into thinking you’re going to kill him if he looks at me wrong.”

She sounded so exasperated, Conner found some of the tension easing from his body. He sank his fingers into her silky hair. “I’m sorry, beloved, I want you safe. I can’t think about much else right now. Letting you go in there is unbelievably difficult.”

She framed his face with her hands. “Letting you go in there is worse for me. I’m not afraid of Imelda Cortez.”

“You should be.”

She gave him a slight smile. “I should have said my cat isn’t afraid. She’s so close, Conner, and I want her. I want to be able to use her strength to help you.”

“Just stay clear of the rogues. They won’t be able to resist trying to get you alone. Stay with . . .”

“Elijah. Yeah. I think we started this conversation here. Go inside. I’m going to be fine.” She leaned into him, kissing him, grateful for the tinted windows.

“Damn it, Isabeau,” Elijah snapped. “When you get out, all of us will have to hug you, rub our scent over you, otherwise the rogues will be able to pick up Conner’s scent exclusively.”

Rio glared at Conner. “That’s a rookie mistake.”

“Great,” she muttered rebelliously, “they’re going to think I’m the loose, easy chick.”

“I’m beginning to think Conner’s right and you should stay in the car,” Rio said.

Isabeau rolled her eyes and reached across Conner to shove open the door. She wasn’t staying in the car.

Conner simply shrugged before flashing his teeth at Isabeau in a conspiratorial smirk. He exited the SUV and took his first good look at the estate where Philip Sobre, the chief of tourism resided. The man had done well for himself. The six-story sprawling mansion was on a slope overlooking the forest. The panoramic views swept around the verandah and from every deck and window in the large house. Trees, centuries old, rose up in grandeur, to surround the house and lead the way to the small lake shimmering just a distance away.