Jake took another calming breath and let it out. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see my grandson.” Cathy’s eyes narrowed.

“And I’ve heard the rumors; we all have. I can see that nothing’s changed. You’re still the same, Jake. Irresponsible and foolish. You’re a womanizer and you don’t seem to realize that there are women who are clever and manipulative who will trap you in any way that they can. I’m your mother—”

“Get out.” He bit out the words, his fingers curling involuntarily, knuckles aching, bones cracking. He felt sharpened claws ripping into the palm of his hand, tearing at his own flesh. He opened his hands and flexed, holding the rapidly forming paws out away from his body where she could see the long, wicked claws protruding from his fingers as the change threatened to consume him. “Get out now.” The scent of something wild, something feral, permeated the room.

Cathy backed away from him, stinking of fear. He could hear her heart racing, beckoning the predator. She gasped as she saw Jake’s eyes go completely golden, the orbs darkening into the focused stare of the leopard. She turned and ran, a small wail of absolute terror escaping. She pushed past the nurse who stood at the foot of the stairs and bolted out the front door.

Jake managed to make it to the nursery door, slamming it closed, leaning against it as the change swept through him, clothes ripping at the seams, his back bending, spine stretching, bones popping. He dropped to all fours, breathing deep, trying to hold back the tidal wave of fury consuming him. Other than his first change, the leopard had only come out when he summoned him. But the animal was furious now, clawing for freedom, determined to hunt the enemy.

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.