“I came to see you,” Iris stated firmly. “We can go into the parlor and speak in private.”

“Saria and I are engaged, Mrs. Mercier . . . Lafont-Mercier. You know as well as I do, leopards don’t have secrets from their mates. Privacy is unnecessary.”

For a moment those cool blue eyes blazed a deep turquoise, but Iris’s perfectly painted mouth curved into a bright smile. “If you insist. This is lair business and I understand you defeated old Amos.”

She made it sound as if Amos Jeanmard had been well past his prime and Drake hd taken undue advantage. He pressed Saria’s hand to keep her from defending him.

“If it is lair business, all the more reason for Saria to be there.”

Iris’s eyes narrowed. Clearly it hadn’t occurred to her that if Drake married Saria, she would be the alpha female.

“That’s just preposterous. Saria Boudreaux is little more than a child. She’s certainly not equipped to help you run a lair.” The bite to Iris’s voice was well-practiced and effective.

Drake tightened his hold on Saria’s hand when he felt her tremble. He bared his teeth at Iris, his look anything but a smile.

“Fortunately for everyone, Saria is wise beyond her years and knows more about the people and the swamp itself than most in the lair. I am very lucky she is my mate.” He gestured toward the living room where he knew her children and Pauline waited. “We’ll talk in there. My men are tired and need to eat before they retire. I don’t want to disturb them.”

Iris went ramrod stiff and turned her back to him, sweeping from the room, her hips an enticement in spite of her obvious anger. She used her sexuality without even being aware of it anymore, it came so natural to her.

Charisse’s beauty seemed to pale in comparison to her mother’s. She looked washed out in the vibrant colors she wore and her hair was pulled back in too severe of a style. Drake hadn’t remembered her that way, but she sat quietly subdued, hands folded in her lap, looking straight ahead. She glanced up at Saria and sent a small smile of welcome, glanced at her mother’s set face and quickly looked down again.

“Where are you manners, Charisse?” Iris demanded. “Is it too much to ask that you greet the leader of the lair when he walks into the room? Or are you deliberately trying to make me look as if I haven’t taught you anything?”

Charisse’s face flamed red. She moistened her lips, looked helplessly at her brother and swallowed hard. When she lifted her face, tears swam in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Mr. Donovan. It’s nice to see you again. Saria, good morning.”

Drake noticed Armande was not taken to task. He had a choice of greeting them and adding to his sister’s misery, or simply nodding his head in their direction. He nodded and shifted subtly, turning his body a bit protectively toward Charisse. Drake liked him better for it, and could see why Saria forgave him quite a lot.

Drake took the small sofa across from Charisse and Armande, settling Saria beside him. “Where’s Pauline this morning?”

“Makin’ herself a slave to her guests,” Iris said caustically. “Why she turned our family home into a bed-and-breakfast when she didn’t need the money, I’ll never know.”

“She enjoys the company,” Saria answered, her voice deceptively low. “And cookin’ for her guests is a good deal of her fun. I’m surprised you don’t know that about her.”

Iris pressed her lips together tightly, her blue eyes narrowing. “I see your manners haven’t improved any, Saria, but I expect nothing less of you.”

“I suppose you think it’s perfectly okay to be rude because you’re so much older,” Drake said very softly. His voice carried a low menace.

Charisse went white, moving closer to her brother for protection. Her breath hitched audibly. Armande put his arm across the back of the sofa, around her shoulders. Iris went very still and her blue eyes glittered dangerously. Two high spots of color appeared in her cheeks.

Before the woman could retort, Drake sighed. “I know you must have come over this early for something important, so let’s get to it. I’ve been up all night acquainting myself with the area and I’m hungry and need to sleep. How can I help you?”

Iris pressed her lips together hard in a gesture of complete displeasure before she relaxed and nodded her head. “Yes. You’re right. This is a lair matter and must be dealt with. My son was viciously attacked by Remy Boudreaux and I demand justice.”

Drake stared at her a long time without expression, deliberately allowing the silence to stretch until the room was taut with tension. He slowly turned his head toward Armande. His vision banded and he knew his eyes had gone cat. To have a man dare to hunt Saria with a gun, fire it at her, hunt him and then hide behind his mother. It took every ounce of discipline to keep from leaping across the room and slashing a claw across the coward’s throat.

“Is this true?” His voice came out as a growl.

Armande flushed a deep red. He glanced at his mother and shook his head. “No, sir. It is not.”

“Then I believe we are done here.”

Iris hissed out a breath. “No we are not. Look at him. He can barely walk. His chest is black and blue. He’s tryin’ to protect the very man who nearly killed him.”

“In a lair, Mrs. Mercier, the male leopards settle things in their own way. We can’t go to the police and if someone commits a crime against another member of the lair—particularly a female—he can be ostracized—driven from the lair—or killed. That is our system of justice and has been for hundreds of years.”