She had considered that. She’d felt a little this way when she’d realized Conner had seduced her to get close to her father—that he wasn’t the man he’d pretended to be. Now, of course, she knew he was exactly that man. He might have changed his name, but he’d been dangerous and intense and wholly committed to what he was doing. He had the same sense of humor and the same dominant nature. He was leopard and all the traits that she’d fallen in love with were still there.

She looked down at her arm. He would suffer because of this. Small scratches, really. He’d already been on his way to controlling his cat. But her cat . . . She sighed. She’d failed at controlling her. Maybe I’ll never let you out. But it was a false warning and both of them knew it. She wanted her leopard. She was ready to embrace her.

Rio turned back to her once Conner had the IV in Jeremiah. He came into her view, holding a syringe. “I need to shoot this in your butt.”

That got her attention. She glared at him. “Well, choose a different location. I can assure you, it isn’t going to happen.” A little backup would be helpful, kitty cat. I’m not dropping my drawers in front of all these men. I don’t care about their lack of modesty. Sheesh. What good are you if you don’t help a girl out when she needs it. Look badass or something.

“Don’t be a baby. We all have to have shots in the ass.”

She leveled a cool stare at him. “Not me. You try it and you’ll lose your eye.”

Felipe snorted. Marcos smiled. Even Leonardo covered a grin.

“We can do it the easy way or the hard way. I’ll have Leonardo hold you down.”

Her eyebrow shot up. Her cat stirred. Finally. “You’re pissing off my cat,” she said with satisfaction. “I’m not good at keeping a leash on her yet.”

“I’ll give her the shot later,” Conner said.

His voice was so neutral Isabeau was certain that in spite of the life-and-death drama in the backseat, he and Elijah had exchanged a quick smile. She didn’t care if all of them were laughing at her. She was drawing the line. Rio had put a gun in her hands, yelled at her—yelled—and forced her to calm a stalking leopard. She’d had enough of all the testosterone and male leopard domination. She gave Rio her most catlike glare, daring him to try it.

“Little she-cat,” Rio muttered under his breath. “You’re going to have to sit on her.”

“I’ll get it done,” Conner assured.

“He can try sitting on me,” Isabeau muttered in rebellion and felt her cat stretch languidly, unsheathing her claws.

Rio rolled his eyes. “Women,” he said under his breath.