Burning Wild

by Feehan, Christine

  He ducked his head, breathing hard, panting, his sides heaving as his skin itched and a wave of fur slid over his back and down his legs and spine. His mouth filled with teeth, and his knuckles turned, curling under, the razor-sharp claws tearing long strips in the floor as he dug deep and raked, desperate to hold back the beast.

  “Jake?” Emma’s voice called out to him. A breath of air, fresh and clean, driving the stench of his enemy from his nostrils.

  He drew her into his lungs, into his mind, shaking with the effort to keep the leopard under control. Slowly—too slowly—his human form reasserted itself. “I’ll be right there,” he called when he could speak. His voice sounded different, rumbling with a velvet growl, even to his own ears.

  He sank back against the door and dropped his face into his hands. He scented blood, and the leopard tried to come out again. He pushed back hard against the door, just in case, forcing the leopard—and himself—back under control. Very slowly, he dragged himself to his feet. His shirt was in tatters, but his jeans were intact. There was little he could do for the floor. He wiped his face with the remains of his shirt and was surprised when he found smears of blood. Curious, he turned his hands over. His claws had burst from his fingers and torn his palms when he’d made a fist.

  “Tell me you’re all right,” Emma insisted.

  He took another breath and let it out, realizing that he wanted to be with Emma and Kyle more than he wanted to disappear in the change, to run free of his past in his other form, to wreak vengeance on his enemies. Jake didn’t let himself think too hard about why. He stood up and went to them just as he was, tattered shirt, bloody hands and bare feet.

  Emma gasped when she saw him, standing immediately, putting Kyle on the bed while she reached for him. “What happened? What did she do to you?”

  He caught her and pulled her tight against him, holding her close, breathing her in, allowing the memories to recede until he could push the door shut on them. He caught her face in his hands and pressed kisses along her eyes, feathered more down her chin, barely resisting her upturned mouth—that fantasy mouth. His heart beat too loud and he feared she would push him away, but she didn’t. Instead she slid her arms around his waist and she rested her face against his chest, just letting him hold her.

  “I’m sorry,” she said gently. “She was angry at me, not you.”

  “She’s evil,” Jake said. “Thank you for not letting her touch my son.” Very gently, he put Emma aside, not trusting himself in his present unfamiliar state. He felt vulnerable and shaky. He didn’t trust his temper, the leopard, or his need of her. Already his body was responding to the softness of hers, to her scent and the silk of her hair. He couldn’t afford to blow everything he’d done by letting her see how she affected him.

  He lifted Kyle into his arms and held the boy close. “She kept you safe, just like she said she would,” he murmured, astonished that it was true. Emma. She wielded some kind of magic he didn’t understand. His heart felt soft and alien as he looked down at his son. “She kept you safe,” he repeated and kissed the little forehead. Jake’s entire body trembled. He actually felt weak.

  “Jake.” Emma’s voice was soft. “Sit down. I want to look at your hands.”

  He looked at her over the top of the baby’s head. She looked small and fragile, so pale and thin, without makeup, her wealth of hair curling in every direction, but she was made of steel. “You’re an amazing woman, Emma.”

  “You need to sit down, Jake,” Emma coaxed softly.

  She tugged at his arm, her gaze searching his face. For the first time she realized Jake Bannaconni—the man with everything, the man who could buy and sell the world—needed someone. Needed her. For all his gruff ways and arrogant orders, he had no idea how to feel emotion, and when his feelings overwhelmed him, like now, he was lost, or he turned to anger or ran from it. She didn’t think anyone needed help quite as much as Jake did. Right now he was looking at his son with a stunned, confused expression, as if he never expected to love the boy. She could have told him that first day, when he’d fumbled to change his diaper, that love grew in spite of a person, and that someday Kyle would take over his life.

  Jake’s gaze collided with hers and for a moment something hot sizzled and burned between them, but he blinked and that smooth, arrogant mask slid into place. “I know the doctor said complete bed rest, Emma. The next time I find you up, you’ll be in trouble.”

  Emma wanted to laugh. He sounded so serious. So in charge. He probably thought he was. “Then give me Kyle and you go get the things I need to clean those scratches on your hands. I’ll be so good.”

  He scowled at her. “No, you won’t.” He waited until she settled back into the bed and he handed her the baby. “You exasperate the hell out of me.”

  “I know I do.” Emma just smiled up at him. In that moment she realized that in spite of his bossy ways, and the sense of danger that sometimes sent a shiver down her spine, she liked him. “Go get the antiseptic. Kyle and I will wait right here for you.” She nearly laughed at the confused male look that crept across his face before he turned and stalked out.

  TWO MONTHS LATER

  “IT’S too soon, Jake,” Emma sobbed, squeezing his hand as they carried her from the helicopter. “Don’t let anything happen to the baby. No matter what. You promised me. If anything goes wrong, you know I want you to take her.”

  “Don’t talk like that,” Jake snapped back. “You’re going to be fine, Emma. And so will the baby. Just relax and let the doctors do their job.”

  He had assembled the best team of experts he could find and flown her to the best hospital, and he wasn’t leaving without Emma and the baby. He tasted fear in his mouth. His heart hammered too fast, too hard, but he refused to even consider that something could happen to her.

  “Thank God you hired this old bat,” the nurse said with a quick wink and a grin at Emma. “Otherwise we might not have known until it was too late.” She patted Emma’s shoulder.

  Jake couldn’t find it in him to smile at the joke. Over the last few months he’d come to know Brenda Hacker—the old bat, as he often referred to her. She’d gotten over her aversion to him, mostly he thought because she liked Emma. Who didn’t like Emma? Even the cowboys had come up to the main house when the helicopter had landed to take her to the hospital. All of them had looked as somber and upset as he felt. He’d tightened the security at the ranch and left the cook and a bodyguard in charge of Kyle and orders that no one come or leave while he was gone.

  Once he’d finished giving everyone he could think of every order possible, he was left with the feeling that he had no more control. It was a frightening feeling. Emma caught his hand, holding it tight as they put her on a gurney and rushed her to a preparation room.

  “Promise me, Jake. Whatever it takes. Say it.”

  “Damn it, Emma. Nothing will happen to you.” He crouched beside her head, his lips against her ear. Even he could see the bright red blood dripping from the table as they slid lines into her arms, racing against the clock, preparing to take her to surgery.

  “They have to take her now, Jake,” Brenda said. “Let them go.”

  “No! He has to promise,” Emma said.

  Jake caught her face in his hands and kissed her. Right on her mouth. Uncaring that she might not want it, or that she would be angry later. His eyes burned and his throat felt clogged with a million regrets. “I give you my word. But you live, damn it. Do you hear me, Emma? You live.”

  Brenda took his arm and tugged gently. Jake shook her off, taking a step after the departing gurney, noticing that they were practically running as they took her away from him. He swore softly under his breath and stepped to the window, looking out, wanting to be alone. The nurse moved away and he breathed a sigh of relief.

  He had no idea how to handle his life anymore without Emma in it. His carefully laid plans didn’t matter as much as making certain she was alive, somewhere in the world, preferably in his home. Sh
e was sunshine and laughter and she just plain made him feel good. She was the most exasperating woman in the world, but he found every day filled with her.

  When he worked in his office, she intruded on his thoughts continually. When he ran free as the leopard, she ran with him in his mind. When he rode horses and checked cattle down in the steep ravine, she was there. Even in the oil fields she intruded, so that he craved the sight and sound and scent of her. At night, tired and exhausted, he looked forward to going home to her.

  How many nights had he sat on her bed, nudging her to scoot over so he could stretch out while they talked together in the dark? She was small and soft beside him, her hair like silk on the pillow. Sometimes he rubbed the strands between his fingers as she told him about her day. When the baby kicked, she would grab his hand and put it on her stomach, and he’d feel the tiny little thud and wonder would spread through him like a warm tide.

  He didn’t want to lose that small life growing inside of her any more than he wanted to lose Emma. Jake frowned and shook his head, trying to deny his anxiety. Surely the baby didn’t matter to him so much, but the loss would devastate Emma. She couldn’t take another death. He couldn’t let himself think too much. He had to trust in his preparations. The teams of doctors, both for Emma and her unborn child. The blood he made certain was on hand.

  “Jake?”

  Jake swung around and nodded to the man who’d entered, his lawyer, John Stillman. He’d done a background check on Stillman long before he ever approached the man to represent his personal interests. Stillman was a man his great-grandfather had casually mentioned, an up-and-coming lawyer who was impressive. If the man had impressed his great-grandfather, Jake was willing to meet him. During the interview Jake had asked questions, lots of questions, designed to make the man uncomfortable, but not once had he smelled a lie.

  “The nurse called me the minute there was a problem, just as you instructed. Emma signed the papers on the helicopter ride over, giving formal consent for you to adopt the baby. Ms. Hacker witnessed her signature. The rest is a formality. I’ll take it to the judge.”

  “Tonight, John,” Jake said. “I want it done the moment the child is born.”

  If the baby lived, it would bear his name. He had promised Emma he would give the child his name and raise it, and he had every intention of keeping his word to her. One more tie to her. If Emma died . . . He slammed the door shut on that thought, his heart contracting painfully.

  “She’s in surgery?”

  Jake nodded, unable to find his voice. Activity in the halls sent him striding past the lawyer. He turned as a doctor approached.

  “Emma?” He bit her name out, fear skittering through his body like a lethal snake.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Bannaconni, she’s still in surgery.”

  He couldn’t breathe. He stood there, head down, not looking at any of them, and thought he was going to choke on his own fear. It was silly, really. He’d been beaten nearly to death as a child and he hadn’t experienced such a wave of terror. How had she done that? How had she snuck into his head and wrapped herself so tightly around him, he didn’t know how to live without her in his life?

  The doctor cleared his throat. “Your little girl is underweight, of course, and will have to be in a radiant warmer. She’s unable to keep her body temperature, but we did expect that, with her being so early. She’s having a little trouble breathing on her own and we have her on a ventilator. There are a few problems . . .”

  Jake swung around, meeting the doctor’s gaze. “You do whatever it takes to make my daughter live and be healthy. That’s why you’re here. We both knew it wouldn’t be easy, but I was told you were the best at what you do. So you do it.”

  “I’ll do my best.” The doctor knew better than to promise something he wasn’t certain he could deliver to a grief-stricken parent.

  “Her name is Andraya Emma Bannaconni.”

  “Yes, sir. The nurses will bring the paperwork.”

  “I want it immediately. I want her to have an official name immediately.”

  “Would you like to see her?”

  Jake forced air through his lungs. “Not until Emma is safe.” He turned his back again, dismissing the man. His fingers curled, nails digging into his palm. It had been years since he felt the slice of a knife in his thigh, but he wanted to feel it now, to score another victory. His daughter was alive. Now he needed Emma to live.

  He waited until he heard the doctor’s retreating footsteps before glancing over his shoulder at his lawyer and then turning back to the window, not daring to show his face while he was vulnerable. “As soon as we take care of the paperwork here, you leave and take care of the adoption. I want it filed immediately.”

  “Jake, with your name on the birth certificate, she’s safe for the time being.”

  Jake’s voice went low, threatening. “I want it filed today,” he repeated, “whatever it costs. And make certain the ruling is sealed and doesn’t become a media event. I mean that, John. You make certain anyone seeing those papers understands there will be severe repercussions if it comes out that I’m not her biological father.” He looked over his shoulder, pinning Stillman with a hard gaze. “I’ll make it my business to destroy them if they fuck this up. You let them know who they’re dealing with.”

  Stillman stood behind him for a long time, then went to sit down, waiting for the nurse to bring the papers to fill out. He wasn’t surprised when an administrator brought the paper immediately. Jake took his time, penning neatly, making certain the child would be safe should anything happen to the mother. Stillman stayed quiet in a corner, feeling as though he couldn’t leave Jake alone, although the man so obviously wanted to be.

  Jake began to pace like a dangerous animal. He felt dangerous, scattered, out of control—all things that brought the leopard close to the surface. His skin itched and his temper smoldered. He found himself angry with Emma for continuing a pregnancy that could kill her. He was angry with himself for allowing her to get close enough to him to make him feel so lost without her. He didn’t honestly know how it had happened when he’d set out to entrap her.

  He rested his hand on the window, spreading his fingers wide, his throat raw, his belly in tight, protesting knots.

  The glass fogged from his breath and he traced letters in the mist. Let her live. Three words. That was all. A lifetime of nothing and finally Emma. Let her live. He leaned forward and rested his forehead against the pane. He didn’t know why he couldn’t stop thinking about her, but he knew if she made it through this, he would have to distance himself enough to regain the control between them. Please, God, if you exist, let her live.

  He closed his eyes and breathed deep, turning his will to find her. Emma. I won’t let you leave me. You can’t go. Do you hear me? I’m giving you an order. Hang on to life. The children need you. Kyle. Andraya.

  He wouldn’t use himself as a bargaining chip. She didn’t look at him with that look. The one she reserved for Kyle. Or Andrew. That bastard Andrew, who’d had it all. We have a baby girl. A beautiful little girl. Live for her.

  For me. Live for me.

  Why couldn’t anyone love him? He pulled back and stared at his own reflection. Cold. Unfeeling. The eyes of a predator. Yet right then he wasn’t unfeeling. His lungs heaved and his eyes burned. The leopard leapt and roared, clawed for freedom to protect him from too much feeling.

  He smelled Emma’s blood long before the doctor made his way down the hall to where he waited, his pulse pounding, afraid to move, to turn, to see the look on the man’s face.

  “Mr. Bannaconni?”

  “Just tell me.” Jake kept his back to the man, his shoulders stiff, his spine straight.

  “Your fiancée is in recovery. We had to give her a great deal of blood, but she made it through the surgery. We’ve done our best to correct the damage that occurred at the time of the accident, so it’s possible she could carry another child sometime in the future, but she has to get through
tonight. She’s weak, Mr. Bannaconni. I won’t lie to you. We aren’t out of the woods yet.”

  Jake swung around, golden eyes glittering, so that the doctor sucked in his breath and stepped back a pace. “I want to see her now. Take me to her.”

  “She’s in recovery. You’ll have to wait until she’s out and in her room.”

  Jake’s eyes narrowed and he took a step forward. A low, warning growl rumbled in his throat. Stillman leapt up and stepped between the two men.

  “I suggest, Doctor, that you take Mr. Bannaconni to his fiancée immediately. If anyone can ensure that she doesn’t die, it will be him. He won’t be in your way.” The lawyer’s voice was smooth, but left little to argue with.

  The doctor reached behind him and slid his card through the mechanism to disengage the lock. “This way, sir.”

  Jake followed the man to the recovery room. Emma looked small and lost, her face white, her eyes closed. There was blood in one bag and a clear liquid in another. Brenda Hacker shot him a quick, reassuring smile as she toed a chair in his direction. Jake straddled it up near Emma’s head, facing her, and settled in for a long night. He had no intentions of losing Emma at this point, and if sheer will meant anything, she would be staying right with him.

  5

  SEVENTEEN MONTHS LATER

  “YOU keep it up, boss man, and we’re not going to have any crew left,” Drake Donovon said. He leaned forward in the saddle and spat on the ground. “You’ve always been as mean as a snake, Jake, but now you’re getting downright ugly.”

  “You think I give a damn whether they like me or not?” Jake snarled. “And don’t call me ‘boss man.’ You only do it when you’re pissed.”