She studied Conner through half-closed eyes, the width of his shoulders, the heavy muscles of his chest and arms, his firm jaw and straight nose, the four scars that only made him look tougher. Her entire body reacted to the sight of him, and something wholly mischievous and very sexy took hold of her. She moved up behind Conner and deliberately leaned over his shoulder, allowing her aching breasts to push against his body. At once her nipples tingled with arousal. Her head was against his, her mouth close to his ear. She breathed warm air onto the side of his neck and pressed her lips right against his ear. “I wish we were alone.”

She felt his reaction, the small ripple of awareness sliding down his spine, the slight rise in his temperature. She smiled with satisfaction and sank into the chair quite close to his, pulling it close to the table so the cloth draped down. If she had to suffer, so could he.

She took a strawberry from the bowl and bit off the end, letting the juice gleam on her lips as she kept her gaze steady on Conner. He shifted, easing the tightness of his jeans, and she nearly purred. Her gaze flicked to Rio. “I was just wondering, although we did go over all the contingencies, thinking up everything that could go wrong . . .” She swiped her tongue over her lips to get the juice of the strawberry off. “Remember when Jeremiah said Suma came to his village in Costa Rica and talked to the youth? Did anyone ask Jeremiah if any others took Suma up on his invitation?”

She dropped her free hand into Conner’s lap, her palm cupping the thick bulge, just holding still for a moment. His thigh muscles bunched. His body tensed. She took another bite of strawberry and smiled at Rio. “We could be facing a little army of leopards in that compound, right?”

Rio frowned and tipped his chair back. “I should have thought of that.” He glanced at Conner. “We both should have.”

Conner’s croak of agreement was a little strangled as she began to rub slow, caressing circles along that hard, thick bulge. His hand covered hers, pressing her palm tight against him and holding it still.

“I’m going to ask him, see if I can get an answer,” Rio said. He pushed back his chair.

Isabeau watched him leave with a small smile.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Conner hissed.

She lifted one shoulder and sent him her best siren’s smile. “Playing with fire. I like how it burns.”

“You keep it up and you’ll be crawling under the table and giving me a little relief.”

She shook her head. “Not this time. This time, I’ll be insisting you find a way to give me some relief. My cat won’t let up.”