She breathed deeply, great gulps of air, trying to suppress the urge to rub herself all over him. She’d thought her addiction to his body was powerful before, but now, with the leopard’s needs surging to the surface, she couldn’t stand still. She stared into Conner’s face, despair in her gaze. She didn’t want to ruin their perfect time by ripping the priceless dress from her body, her leopard emerging to leap on the buffet table and smash the cake. For one awful moment, she envisaged the carnage.

“Keep breathing, baby,” he whispered, wrapping his arm around her waist and all but pushing her through the back door into the house. He glanced over his shoulder. “Mary!” His summons was sharp. Imperative.

When Isabeau tried to reply, no coherent sound emerged, not with the way her throat felt closed and swollen. She was acutely conscious of the mechanics of her body. The way she took in air, the way it moved through her body. Each individual strand of hair on her head. Scents grew stronger, flooding her system until she feared it might shut down. Her body burned, tension coiling tighter and tighter, the itch growing not only through her skin, but through every cell in her body.

“I’ve got you,” Conner assured, thrusting her into the first room he came to.

She was moving continually, unable to stay still. The perfumed heat from the interior of the rain forest called to her. Walls seemed oppressive. She felt caged and claustrophobic. Her breasts felt swollen and achy, her nipples hard and so sensitive that with each step she took, as they rubbed against the material of the bodice, nerve endings sizzled and electrical charges raced straight to her core. She was melting from the inside out. Conner’s masculine scent overwhelmed her, his body heat making her catch fire as his fingers fumbled with the buttons of her wedding dress.

Mary pushed open the door, took in the sight of Isabeau’s flushed face and apprehensive expression and slid into the room, closing the door behind her. “You get everything ready that you’ll need,” she told Conner. “I’ll help Isabeau. I’ve been through this.” Her hands replaced Conner’s on the buttons. Although she was older, she moved each satin-covered button deftly, quickly opening the back of the dress.

Conner leaned over to give Isabeau a quick kiss. “Give me five minutes, beloved.”

Isabeau honestly didn’t know if she had five minutes. The house was too stifling, and even Mary’s presence, so close to Conner, sent her cat into a frenzy. She exerted control over her cat, annoyed that a woman who had treated her as a mother with such kindness could trigger bad behavior in her leopard.