She went straight into the bathroom and the door slammed behind her. Remy let out his breath, unaware he’d even been holding it. He caught up a towel and wrapped it around his hips, sinking down into the comfortable chair facing the French doors. He felt every muscle in his body, sore and bruised from the fight with the other male and long sessions of rough sex. His leopard might not be sore, but it was different for him as a human.

He glanced toward the bathroom door. The silence went on for so long he stirred, determined to go to her, but then the water in the shower went on. He leaned back and pressed his fingers to his eyes. He needed sleep—a very long sleep, but there was no way it was going to happen until he talked to Bijou and found out why she was so angry with him.

The water seemed to go on forever. He sighed. He needed a shower as well. His muscles were going to get stiff sitting there; he had to make himself move. He stood up, stretched and went to the French doors to pull the drapes. Hand on the pull cord, he paused, movement catching his eye. Down by the edge of the swamp, something moved in the brush, just enough to stir the leaves the wrong direction.

Not wanting to draw the eye to him, he inched freeze-frame, much like his leopard counterpart, until he was back in the shadows, but able to see out the French doors. He waited patiently, all fatigue forgotten, holding still and sending up a silent prayer that Bijou wouldn’t choose that moment to walk into the room.

As he watched, a golden leopard thrust his head through the brush to look up at the Inn. It stood there for a long while, just staring, and scenting the air. Very carefully the leopard emerged, until it was fully in the open, something none of them did unless absolutely necessary—as Remy had done in order to track Bijou. Robert Lanoux was up to something, and it couldn’t be good.

Remy had considered that the killer might be leopard. He knew it was possible to disguise any odor, even from a leopard. It had been done by one of his kind before and everyone in the lair was aware of those gruesome killings. Any shifter could hunt as a leopard and kill as a man or vice versa. As he watched, the golden leopard reached high and raked one of the trees near the Inn. He scent-marked several others before whirling around and rushing back into the safety of the swamp.

Remy frowned. Had Drake been home, he would have taken Robert’s actions as a challenge for leadership. To come onto Drake’s property and scent mark and leave rake signs on trees would garner swift retaliation by the lair’s leader—and Robert had fought and lost to Drake before. In fact, it was apparent that Drake could have killed him easily. So why would Robert take such a chance? Nothing about Robert’s actions made any sense. He knew Remy could kill him. He knew Remy’s leopard could as well.

The water went off abruptly, and Remy pulled the drapes, darkening the room, certain that Robert had retreated to the safety of his own property, but taking no chances. He swung around to face Bijou as she emerged. Her hair was wrapped in a towel and she wore a robe. There were shadows under her eyes, bruises and love bites on her neck. He didn’t think it would have mattered if she’d come out wrapped in a garbage bag, his body immediately reacted with urgent demands—and he was damned tired. There was no getting around it and there was no hiding it.

He saw the flare of desire in her eyes, quickly veiled by her long lashes. She shook her head. “Don’ you have a place to sleep?”

He glanced at the bed.

Bijou sighed. “It’s not goin’ to happen, Remy. I need sleep desperately, and right now, I don’ like you very much.”

“Why? What the hell did I do wrong?”

She recoiled for just a moment at his tone, and then her chin went up. “Figure it out. In the meantime, I’m goin’ to bed to sleep, so go away.”

“That’s not goin’ to happen, Blue.” He threw her words right back at her. “I’m stayin’ right here with you.”

“You can’t tell me Saria won’t give you a place to sleep.” Bijou stalked across the room to the edge of the bed, yanked down the covers, and tossed her robe aside.

Before she could hide, he saw the dark smudges on her body. She moved a little stiffly as if, like him, her body ached. He reached out and caught the covers, holding them open for her so she could crawl in the bed.

“I’m takin’ a quick shower, and then I’ll be sleepin’ right next to you,” he warned.

Bijou slid into bed and turned on her side, clearly savoring the feel of the mattress and soft sheets. “Do whatever, Remy. I’m too tired to argue. Just please don’ wake me, because I don’ want to have sex with you.”

“I’m waitin’ for lightning to strike you, woman,” he replied.

She didn’t even look at him, her lashes already veiling her eyes so he couldn’t read her expression. It didn’t matter. He knew. She craved him every bit as much as he did her.

Remy took a long shower, allowing the hot water to run over his tired muscles, washing his hair and going over everything that had happened between them. Had she still been angry with him for leaving her earlier? Most likely, although for a short while she’d seemed to have forgiven him.

He sighed and made his way back into the bedroom. Bijou clearly had fallen asleep and the towel she’d wrapped her hair in had come loose. Her long hair was everywhere, still damp. She looked young to him, too young for the kinds of things he’d done to her.

He slipped into the bed and wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her into the protection of his body. She was warm and soft. He buried his face in her shoulder, kissing the bite marks along her neck. He laid back, content to just be with her, so close, his body tight against hers, his cock nestled between the firm globes of her buttocks and her breast in his palm. He drifted off to sleep with the scent of lavender surrounding him.