Conner waited until the three men left before turning to Rio. “What’s going on?”

Rio pushed a cup of coffee across the table toward Conner. “I don’t honestly know. I know what Carpio told me was true, but some of the things he said . . .” Rio toed a chair around and dropped into it. “The description of you was less than flattering and didn’t mention the scars. Carpio didn’t mention the scars either.”

“He hasn’t seen me in a few years. What description?” A faint grin tugged at Conner’s mouth but didn’t quite make it. “I thought I was considered a handsome sort.”

Rio snorted. “Despicable was a word used. I kid you not. A ruthless bastard who can get the job done. The sketch of your face bothered me. It was good enough, apparently, that Carpio recognized you, so whoever our client is, they’ve seen you and can identify you.”

“At least they know I’m a ruthless bastard and one wrong move is going to get them killed,” Conner said, standing still at the open window, staring out with more than a little longing.

The wind shifted slightly, barely able to penetrate the stillness of the forest floor. A few leaves fluttered gently. Somewhere birds called. Monkeys shrieked. They weren’t alone in their part of the forest. A faint rumbling started in his throat and he picked up his coffee cup with one hand, taking a small swallow. The coffee was hot and gave him a much-needed jolt. His leopard was roaring again, moody and edgy without his mate, and returning to the wild haven only added to his primitive feelings of need. He wanted rough. Hard. Deep. He wanted claws raking him, branding him. He rubbed a hand over his face, wiping off the sweat.

“You all right?”

What the hell did one answer to that? His leopard was clawing deep, raging for release when he needed to be at the top of his game. “I’m all right enough to back your play, Rio.”

He kept his eyes on the forest, staring out the window. He heard the low chuff of a leopard. Another answered. Felipe and Leonardo warning them they had two guests. Rio moved into place to one side of the door. Conner stayed where he was, his back to the door, depending on Rio while he quartered the area surrounding the house, looking for possible ghosts—men sliding in under cover while the front person distracted them.

The door opened behind him. He knew from the sudden draft. A scent filled his lungs. Rich. Potent. Wild. Her. He inhaled instinctively. His leopard leapt and raked. His mate. His woman. He would know that scent anywhere. His body reacted instantly, flooding his veins in a rush of heat, engorging his cock, sending his pulse rocketing so that it thundered in his ears.