“You ready for the real tour?” she asked, obviously trying to change the subject.
“Sure.” He collected his crutches and stood. “But first I’d like my gun back.”
She studied him for a second, then pulled open her desk drawer and drew out the Beretta and its magazine. He took them from her, loaded the gun, chambered a round and checked to make sure the safety was on. Then he slipped the gun into the waistband at the small of his back and turned toward the door.
“So if we’re invaded by a small third-world country, you’re prepared,” she said.
“Always.”
“Good to know.” She led the way into the hall.
As they walked past the room containing the cubs, the kittens cried out. They were so small, he thought, remembering holding one of them. Hard to believe something like that would grow into a five-hundred-pound killer.
They walked to the foyer and out the front door to the parking lot where Faith had scared off the newspeople. This morning the circular area stood empty. She waited while he maneuvered his way down the single step.
“Beth will be here in a couple of hours,” Faith said, leading him to the left. “She has morning classes. The two guys have different schedules on different days, but someone comes here every day. Most days there are two of them.”
“I’ll need to look at their personnel files,” he said. “Run a few things through the computer.”
She paused and looked at him. In the bright morning light, her skin glowed. The faint color on her cheeks owed its presence to her temper rather than makeup. Clear blue eyes framed by dark lashes bored into his.
“I trust my kids.”
“This is routine,” he said, leaning on the crutches. “Maybe something happened to one of them in the last month or so. I’m not accusing anyone, but it’s better to know.”
She folded her arms over her chest. “What does your spy computer say about me?”
“Jeff didn’t tell me.”
“But I’ve been investigated.” She wasn’t asking a question.
“You wouldn’t have been allowed in the hospital yesterday if you hadn’t been cleared.”
She stared at him for several seconds. “I don’t envy you your world, Cort,” she said, dropping her arms to her sides. “Come on. The Jeep is this way.”
A three-car garage jutted out on one side of the main building. She lifted the single door and stepped into the shadows. Ten seconds later he heard an engine start up. She backed an open, black-and-white-striped Jeep out in front of him. He stared at the vehicle. It looked like something from an animal park—a zebra on wheels.
She stepped out and lowered the garage door. “Don’t ask,” she muttered. “I had nothing to do with it. The vehicle was a donation. We were all humiliated when it was delivered.”
He tossed his crutches in the back and climbed in. His bum leg bumped the side once and he fought back a curse. When the pain eased, he turned to her. “Why zebra stripes?”
“I have no idea.” She slid in beside him. “I guess they thought the cats would think they were back on the Serengeti.” She rested her hands on the steering wheel. “What do you want to see first?”
He thought for a minute. “How much of the perimeter is fenced?”
She smiled. “Perimeter? Should we be wearing fatigues and a little beret?”
Her humor surprised him. He knew Faith wasn’t happy about him investigating her employees. He understood her reluctance and admired her loyalty, however misplaced. He thought about the casual way she’d handled the Beretta yesterday and reminded himself she wasn’t like any of the women he’d known. He would do well to remember that.
“We’ll save the camouflage for night maneuvers,” he said. “How much of the compound is fenced?”
She shifted into gear and started down the driveway toward the main road. “Not enough of it. We count on the forest to keep most people away. There are a few places where it would be pretty easy to hike into the facility. Most people just want to get a look at the cats, so the gate and the road discourage them.”
As they drove down the paved driveway, she pointed to where the fencing started and ended. When the asphalt gave way to dirt ruts, she slowed down and eased forward in second gear. About twenty yards from the gate, she pulled a remotecontrol device from her jeans pocket and pushed the button. The gate swung open.
“Let’s start here,” he said. He climbed out and hobbled over to the gate. “Worn hinges. You could cut through this with a nail file.” He leaned on the frame. It groaned and gave slightly. “Item one, a new gate.”
*
Two hours later, they stopped at the top of a sloping rise. Most of the trees had been logged in the last twenty years, and the new growth didn’t yet block out the terrain or the sun. Cort squinted and peered down in the direction of the way station.
“Can’t do much about fencing up here,” he said. “It’s a roundabout route, but fairly impassable, especially at night.”
“Good.” Faith leaned against the Jeep. “You’re really taking this seriously, aren’t you?”
He glanced at her. A couple of strands of hair had escaped from her braid. They floated around her ears and temples. He thought about smoothing them back in place, then dismissed the idea as foolish. He didn’t want to start something he had no intention of finishing.
“It’s my job.”
“I know. I guess I didn’t want to think the cubs were really in danger.”
“Would that have affected your willingness to take them in?”
She thought for a moment, then shook her head. “No. They had nowhere else to go. I would have spent the last couple of days being nervous, though.”
He scanned the quiet hilltop. A faint earthy smell mingled with the sweetness of spring flowers and Faith’s French perfume. Birds chirped from nearby branches and small creatures rustled in the underbrush.
“Nothing’s going to happen,” he said.
“I have every confidence in you.”
“Thanks.”
“You want to talk about it?” she asked softly.
“What?”
“The dream.”
He swung around to face her. She leaned against the vehicle. With her elbows propped up on the closed driver’s door, her chest thrust forward, enticing him with her feminine shape. He ignored the faint stirrings inside and concentrated on her statement.
“What dream?” he asked, even though he knew.
“From this morning. I heard you calling out.” Her face was as open and readable as a child’s. She wasn’t judging.
“No.” He spoke sharply. The word cut through the late morning like a gunshot. She tried to control her reaction, but his skilled eyes saw the slight stiffening of her muscles and the way she forced herself to relax.
“Just asking,” she said. “You ready to head back?”
He hobbled over to the Jeep without speaking. She didn’t look up at him. Nothing in her manner indicated anything had happened, but he felt like a jerk. He was here to do a job. Whatever personal problems he brought with him had no business spilling out into the assignment, or involving Faith.
“How much did Jeff tell you?” he asked, settling his crutches in the back of the vehicle.
She opened her door and got inside. “Only that you’d been injured on your last assignment, and that you were having trouble remembering everything that happened.”
“That about sums it up,” he said curtly, sliding in beside her. Faith started the engine and made a tight turn in the small clearing.
Cort’s feeling of helplessness returned. He couldn’t force himself to remember. He couldn’t do a damn thing except wait for his past to catch up with him. In the meantime, he could wonder if he’d killed his friend.
That was the problem. In his line of work, he wasn’t supposed to have friends. If he’d remembered his own rule, none of this would matter. Dan’s death would simply be another casualty of war. Nothing personal about that. It w
as the price paid for fighting the good fight. But it was personal, and it was too late to change that fact.
“I’ve been thinking about painting the hallway of the main building,” Faith said as she drove down the narrow path. “It really looks shabby. Maybe a light cream or even white.”
He stared at her. What the hell was she talking about? She spoke about remodeling, moving from paint to flooring, then about replacing the vinyl couch. A shaft of sunlight filtered through the trees overhead and highlighted her right side. He stared at the snug-fitting jeans hugging her slender thighs and the way her breasts bounced with each bump in the road. Inside, heat coiled, the awakening desire defusing his temper. He moved his gaze to the muscles in her arms and up to the wisp of brown hair floating beside her ear.
His stomach clenched. There. Where the pink T-shirt met her neck. The faint shadowing in the shape of a man’s hand, his hand, wouldn’t let him forget what he’d done. He started to curse himself, but her quiet voice kept getting in the way. She soothed him, and he realized she spoke to call him away from his demons.
“Is this what mother tigers do?” he asked.
She stopped speaking in midsentence and glanced at him. “Excuse me?”
“You’re talking to relax me. Is that what cat mothers do? Is this human purring?”
She smiled and returned her attention to the road. “And here I thought I was being subtle.”
“You were. I’m very observant.”
“I guess you’d have to be. Tigers don’t purr. None of the big cats do.”
“Wasn’t Sparky purring? He looked like a big cat to me.”
“Leopards are big cats. And yes, he makes a purring-like noise. Only leopards bred in captivity and hand-raised purr.”
She drove around the compound and turned east on a narrow road. He stared at the greenery around him. The crisp smells and budding trees were so different from what he’d left in South America. There he’d seen…
He shook his head. Damn. He didn’t know what he’d seen there, only that it had been different. He forced himself to concentrate, but his mind refused to open and the mist only got thicker. He balled his hands into fists and tensed his muscles. He had to remember. He had to. If he didn’t—
“Cort?” Faith spoke his name. He looked at her. She’d stopped the vehicle and put her hand out, as if she’d considered touching him but had thought better of the idea. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.”
She held his gaze, then slowly, deliberately, placed her hand on his curled fingers. She worked against his fist, forcing him to relax. Her skin, rough calluses at the base of her fingers, smooth everywhere else, felt warm and alive.
“You’ll remember,” she said. “Give yourself a break.”
In her casual clothes, with her hair pulled back in a sensible braid and her face devoid of makeup, she wasn’t anyone he would look at twice. But there was a gentle set to her mouth and a fearless compassion in her eyes. He knew why the cats trusted her and allowed her to help them heal. He knew why Sparky purred for her. He wanted to lean close and taste her generous mouth. Sex had always been his way of getting lost. He smiled. She would be shocked at his actions. Not because she was inexperienced—she moved with the easy grace of a woman who knows and appreciates her body—but because she didn’t see him as a man.
He hadn’t realized it until now, but the clues had been there all along. The way she calmly excused his attack on her by comparing it with that of a wounded panther. Her impersonal dressing of his wounds, the instinctive way she stroked him now, soothing him with the healing touch of her hand.
He thought about pulling her close and showing her he was very much a man, with a man’s needs, but he dismissed the idea as soon as it appeared. Sleeping with Faith would simply complicate their situation.
He pulled his hand away from hers and reached up to gently touch her cheek. She started at the slight contact. Her eyes widened with surprise, as if one of her cats had spoken her name. Then he opened the door and stepped out.
“What’s this?” he asked, pointing at the tall, two-story house in front of them. The Victorian-style manor looked completely out of place in the middle of the forest.
Faith joined him. He leaned on the front of the Jeep, testing his bad leg. It didn’t hurt too much, and so far hadn’t started to bleed.
“Edwina used to live here. She loved the cats but didn’t want to be too close to the compound. We call it the Big House.”
“Who owns it now?”
For the first time, Faith looked uncomfortable. She stuffed her hands in her pockets. “She left it to me in her will. The foundation owns the way station and all the land except for one acre and this house.”
He glanced from the building to Faith and back. “You mean you’ve stuck me on a cot in some back office and I could be sleeping here?”
She smiled. “Yeah. It has big bathrooms and everything. You’re welcome to move in. Most of the rooms are empty, but a couple of the bedrooms are furnished.”
He shook his head. “It’s tempting, but I’ve got to stay near the cubs. Why aren’t you living here?”
“I never really fit in.” She stared at the Big House. “It will always be Edwina’s place, not mine. I did live there with her, but when she passed away, I moved into the apartment behind the office. Much more my style.”
“So what’s this old place for?”
“Parties.”
“You don’t strike me as the party type.”
“I’m not.” Her shoulders slumped. “It’s for fund-raising. We have gala events about three or four times a year. We bring out the tamer cats, serve fancy food and collect big checks.”
“Don’t sound so enthused.”
“It’s awful.” She looked up at him. Her mouth pulled into a straight line. “Black tie, caterers. It takes tons of time, but it’s necessary. We need the funding. I even have to give Sparky a bath.”
“He must hate that.”
“It’s not fun for either of us.” Her eyes widened. “You’re making fun of me.”
“How bad could it be, Faith? You make it sound worse than getting a tooth pulled.”
“Fine. See how much you like it. I hope you brought a tux.”
“What?” He glared at her.
“Oh, didn’t I mention it? There’s a fund-raiser next week.”
He thought about the faulty gate and the fence that didn’t run all the way around the property and the hundreds of ways a really determined individual could break into the compound. “No, you didn’t mention it. You can forget about it.”
“Sorry,” she said blithely as she climbed back into the Jeep. “The invitations have already been mailed. It’s too late to call the event off.”
*
Cort glanced at the empty bottle and scribbled the amount of formula the cubs had eaten. From inside the cage the larger of the two, the male, tumbled with a knotted towel and growled as he wrestled his imaginary prey. Every few minutes he looked up to make sure Cort was still within sight. The female cub sat near the gate and mewed piteously every few seconds.
“I’m not going to hold you,” Cort said, trying to ignore her. “I’ve spent the entire morning with you.”
She was unimpressed. Her vivid blue eyes locked onto his. With big ears and clumsy puppy feet, the cubs were growing on him. In less than four days they’d figured out he was a soft touch and spent most of their time trying to manipulate him. She meowed again. When he didn’t respond, she hung her head dejectedly and trembled.
Cort swore, opened the cage door and hauled her onto his lap. Instantly the cub cuddled next to his chest and began chewing on the rolled cuff of his shirt.
“You are the worst,” he told her. She just gazed up at him. Cort rubbed her fur, scratching the spot that she loved best behind her ears. He glanced at his watch. “You’re making me miss lunch.”
She yawned, showing small white teeth that would grow large and deadly. Before she could tric
k him again, he placed her back in the cage next to her brother, latched the door closed and walked into the hall. She mewed once, then snuffled a few times and settled down to sleep.
Faith wasn’t in her office, so he limped toward the compound. His wound was healing and he’d stopped using the crutches the day before. As he stepped out into the bright spring sunshine, a black shadow crossed his path.
Cort stared at the leopard. Although he’d grown comfortable with the tiger cubs, the sight of Sparky roaming free through the offices and outside always brought him up short.
The big cat made a coughing noise low in his chest and moved close enough to butt his head against Cort’s thigh. Cort reached down and patted the animal. Sparky looked up. Wide, almondshaped yellow eyes held his own. Behind the facade of domestication lurked the cold determination of a killer. As he stared down at the leopard, recognition flashed. He was like this predator: a creature who killed in the night, a creature without a soul.
The cat broke away suddenly, raced across the compound to the central play area and leapt onto the telephone poles planted in the raked earth. Except for the red collar around his neck, he looked like an escaped wild animal. The first jump put him almost halfway up the pole. Using his claws, he climbed to the top of the first pole, crouched and jumped to the cross beam six feet below. He landed perfectly in the center of the beam, then ran across it and up the pole on the opposite side. Black fur gleamed in the bright light. The pattern of his spots was barely visible. Cort walked haltingly around the perimeter of the play area, watching the beautiful cat. He leaned against the safety chain, taking the weight off his healing leg.
“Cort!”
He looked at Ken jogging toward him. “Did Faith warn you about the jaguars?” the young man asked as he approached.
Cort looked over his shoulder at the two flat-faced cats pacing and snarling in their cages. “She said not to get too near them.”
“Good.” Ken stopped in front of him. “They can fit their paws through the sides of the gate. You could get a nasty scratch.”
“Or worse,” Cort muttered, not liking how they were eyeing him. “When are they going back to the zoo?”
Tempting Faith Page 7
