Remy stood up so fast he knew his cat was closer to the surface than he’d even imagined. His reflexes were lightning. He caught the man by the back of his neck and slammed him down on the table, holding him there.

“I’m done with this. Everyone go back to your tables. And you can apologize for your mouth,” he added to his prisoner. His voice was deceptively low. His eyes definitely glowed cat—he was seeing with a cat’s vision. His aggression was doubly so. He knew his strength reflected his leopard’s closeness.

The man muttered an apology as the crowd hastily dispersed. Remy let him up but retained possession of his arm. “I know you. Ryan Cooper. You came down here a couple years ago and you work at the strip bar. I know where you live. If you give Miss Breaux any trouble, any at all, you’ll be gettin’ a visit from me and it won’t be pleasant. Have I made myself understood?”

“Yes,” Cooper said, and glanced at his friend. Remy recognized the man as Brent Underwood. He only knew Underwood because the man hung out with one of the shifters, Robert Lanoux. Underwood quickly looked away.

Remy let go of Cooper abruptly. Cooper staggered back a couple of steps and turned, nearly sprinting from the café. Remy watched him go, following his progress out on the street, ready for anything. Cooper was a mean bouncer. He provided drugs for the patrons and sometimes allowed underage boys into the bar, getting them hooked early on the after-hours sex and drugs. Remy made a mental note to talk with Robert about Cooper and Underwood.

Thereze set the food on the table.

“I’m so sorry,” Bijou said. “Sometimes it happens and disrupts everythin’.”

“I suggest exitin’ through the kitchen when you’re ready to leave,” the waitress said. “Those people are crazy.”

Remy sank down into his seat, grateful he could keep a straight face. Thereze had been the first person asking for both an autograph and picture.

“If you were my official bodyguard, Remy, I’d be sued every ten minutes or so,” Bijou said, and then flashed a genuine smile, one that lit her eyes. “Just sayin’.”

“He had it comin’,” Remy all but snarled. “He can keep his opinions to himself.”

“The problem is this, my friend”—Bijou leaned across the table and put her hand over his—“people were probably recordin’ your every move, just because you were with me. You’re a policeman. You can’t do people that way. You’ll be very lucky if you don’ end up on YouTube.”

“Tell me again your harebrained reasoning for not havin’ a bodyguard.” His leopard wasn’t settling fast enough. He had the urge to throw her over his shoulder and carry her out of the café. What would happen after that he didn’t dare admit, even to himself.

“You haven’t changed much,” Bijou said, and pushed the food on her plate around.

“Don’ kid yourself, Blue.” He pinned her with his eyes. Leopard’s eyes, staring straight and completely focused on prey. “I’ve changed. If I took you home to your daddy, I’d beat the shit out of him and have him thrown in jail for child endangerment. I’d call the feds and have them clean up the department like I should have done all those years ago. So don’ you for one minute believe I’m that same idiot that let you down. It was the act of a coward to leave you with him.”

Her lips, so full and tempting, frowned. “Is that what you think, Remy? That you were a coward? First, you didn’t leave me with him, you took me to Pauline that night. You saved my life. That’s what you did. You saved me. Never for one minute believe that I’d be here without you, because I wouldn’t.”

She didn’t flinch when he bunched her shirt in his fist, fury rising all over again at the thought that a child would want to take her own life.

“I wouldn’t be here without you, Remy,” she repeated, honesty in her voice.

“Damn it to hell, Blue, you’re goin’ to get us into trouble if you keep this up. Why the hell aren’t you afraid of me? You don’ have good sense.”

“Who says I’m not afraid of you? You’re a very scary man. Even I can see that. Eat. You skipped breakfast.”

He forced himself to loosen his grip on her. What was he going to do? Yank her across the table, lay her out and devour her? It might be what he wanted, but he had learned control. He just needed a break from that faint temptation of lavender.

“I am hungry,” he admitted, meaning it. Not caring if she read his true meaning.

Evidently she had no problems translating. Color tinged her flawless skin. “Just eat, Remy. Everyone is starin’ at us.”

He sighed and took a bite. The food was spicy and every bit as good as he remembered. Emile was an extraordinary chef. “His dinners are even better. You can’t make a reservation here, and people wait for hours for one of his meals.”

“The food is outstandin’,” Bijou agreed. She sent him a little grin. “I have to admit, I love to eat good food.”

“That’s one of the hazards of bein’ from New Orleans. We love great food, music and fun.”

“Which means I have to work out daily,” Bijou said, “but if I can eat this kind of food, it’s well worth it.”

Remy’s gaze dropped to the package of threats. “You were tellin’ me why you suddenly, after all this time, became uneasy with these threats.”