Stealing the Snow Leopard's Heart Read online

  She didn’t feel trapped in his arms. She felt weightless. And… precious.

  The flickering candlelight inside her flared higher.

  “One moment,” Lance murmured in her ear, and whisked her out of the guest room.

  Keeley was limp in his arms, barely believing what was happening. Part of her still thought she was trapped in the dark. That this was the trick, and she would wake up and find herself back there again.

  Lance’s hand curved around her thigh as he carried her, his grip so firm she could feel every individual finger on her bare skin. That was right. She’d gotten changed before she fell into bed. Stripped off her uniform and pulled on a soft t-shirt from the guest room dresser, and nothing else.

  Borrowed t-shirt. Panties. Bare legs. Heart still hammering, Keeley managed to pull herself together enough to take stock.

  This was real. This, the crazy mountain-top apartment and the baby dragon and the man who could turn into a snow leopard. Not the nightmare. Not the suffocating darkness.

  Although she’d only seen the rooms once, Keeley recognized where Lance was taking her. The room lined with bookshelves… with the staircase that led up to his bed.

  Her heart was still racing from her nightmare, but suddenly the beat of her pulse changed. Her skin heated up. Her thighs tingled.

  And then Lance stopped, still on the lower level, and put her down.

  “Here,” he said, and before Keeley had the chance to segue from more-than-slightly-turned-on to wait-what-now?, he placed his hands gently on her shoulders and turned her around to face the window.

  Keeley gasped. One hand holding on to Lance’s arm, she leaned forward, marveling at the sight of the city spread out below her. It was nighttime, but this was New York. It wasn’t dark, it was…

  “Enough light for you?” Lance murmured in her ear.

  “It’s beautiful,” Keeley whispered. “I’ve never seen the city like this before, it’s… it’s like a sea of stars.” Shaking her head, she added, “All I can see from my apartment is the wall of the next building along. Three feet from my window.”

  Lance cleared his throat. “It’s not as good as a real mountaintop—but it’s close. I thought, if you needed not to feel enclosed…”

  Keeley stepped forward, not aware that she was dragging Lance with her, and pressed her palm against the glass. “Thank you.” She grimaced. “Back at my place, I have to pretty much fall out the window to get a bit of fresh air.”

  “You have these nightmares often?”

  Keeley bit the inside of her cheek. Lance must have seen something in her face, reflected in the window.

  “I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.”

  “No, it’s fine.” Keeley shrugged, but her hand resting on the window turned into a fist. “I used to, but not so much anymore. Which is good, since the neighbors tend to complain…”

  What the hell are you saying? He doesn’t need to know that! Keeley looked up at Lance, and her heart sank. She didn’t want him to know any of it, either. All those pathetic details about her life.

  The nightmare had made her feel helpless. And Lance knowing about it, that was even worse. She didn’t want him to think she was some pathetic, weak little girl, weeping over bad dreams.

  She wanted…

  Keeley turned until she was facing Lance. She was surprised to find she was already touching him—his hands were on her shoulders, and, at some point while she was marveling at the city lights, her own hand had drifted up to touch his. The realization sent a thrill through her, but at the same time, it left her feeling unbalanced.

  She didn’t touch anyone. Not ever. Especially not when she was freaking out after a nightmare, and touch just felt like another thing weighing her body down. But with Lance, it felt… natural. Him holding her hand in the kitchen. Picking her up. Her resting her hand on his arm as they stood here, looking out over the blazing city lights.

  It felt… right. But it didn’t feel normal. It made Keeley feel like she was walking on a tightrope, unsteady and vulnerable.

  But it was better than the nightmare.

  Keeley let her fingers ghost over Lance’s bicep. He was wearing a short-sleeved shirt, and his skin goosebumped at her touch. A thrill went through her.

  “You know,” she said, her voice slow and lazy, “when you picked me up and carried me up here, this wasn’t what I thought you had in mind.”

  “Oh?” Lance’s eyes gleamed silver, as though they were somehow reflecting the streetlights from outside. He put his index finger to the bridge of his nose as though he meant to push up his glasses, but he wasn’t wearing them. “What were you expecting?”

  I was expecting to wake up trapped in a—no. No. Keeley thrust the thought away. She had to focus on what was real. What was right in front of her.

  Which right now was this amazing, handsome man, who’d saved her life twice and made her skin hum with excitement.

  She leaned closer to him. “For a start, I didn’t expect you to put me down before we got to the bed.”

  Lance’s eyebrows shot up. The silver sheen on his eyes disappeared, leaving them a pure green that reminded her of new leaves in the spring, and a surprised smile lit up his face.

  “Is that so?”

  His voice was so low, it was practically a purr.

  Keeley licked her lips. Lance’s voice vibrated deep inside her, filling her with delicious shivers of anticipation. He leaned closer, his spring-green eyes filling her world, and she couldn’t wait any longer.

  Keeley grabbed his collar with both hands and stood on tip-toe to crush her lips against his. He kissed her back, immediate and passionate. His lips were as soft as she remembered, but warmer. Hotter. Hers.

  Lance cupped the back of her head in one hand, the other wrapping firmly around her waist. Heat shot through her.

  “Oh, God, Keeley.” Lance murmured something wordless and pulled her against him. His cock jutted against her belly, and Keeley wound her arms around his neck, need spiking through her as his tongue flicked out to brush her lips. “I don’t have a—”

  “Don’t stop.” Keeley felt him hesitate and grabbed his hand, pushing it under her t-shirt. Her skin sizzled where he touched it. “Please. I need you to touch me.”

  Lance moaned and spread his fingers wide over her belly and waist. She urged him on, pressing herself against him and unbuttoning his shirt. The thin fabric fell open, revealing his magnificent chest. And the scar.

  Keeley ripped Lance’s shirt off. He’d almost died, and the reminder made her desire even more urgent. She threw herself at him, kissing his chest. Lance swore as she scraped her teeth over one nipple.

  “I thought you said you needed me to touch you?” he groaned, his voice ragged.

  In answer, Keeley straightened and stripped off her t-shirt. Panting slightly, she stood in front of Lance in nothing but her panties.

  He stared at her, his eyes heavy with lust but his gaze reverent. For about half a second.

  Keeley gasped as Lance put his hands around her waist and pushed her gently backwards until her back was against the window. He kissed her neck, her collarbone, making his way down to her breasts. She groaned and arched her back as he sucked one nipple into his mouth and bit it, just hard enough to make her cry out.

  “Don’t stop,” she begged him. Every part of her was aching for his touch. It was like she’d been starving all her life without knowing what she was missing.

  Lance ran his hands over her waist and hips as he dropped to his knees. He tugged at the waistband of her panties, a question in his desire-hooded eyes.

  Keeley nodded, afraid that if she opened her mouth, she’d scream.

  Lance tugged her panties down and slid one hand between her legs. His fingertips brushed against her folds. Keeley moaned, leaning back against the window and parting her legs for him.

  She was already hot and wet, every nerve ending thrilling to be touched. Lance lowered his head between her legs, and Keeley almost
cried out as his tongue flicked out.

  He started slow, almost methodical, and then his tongue hit Keeley’s clit. She moaned, her whole body shuddering, and something seemed to break loose inside him. He pressed one finger up inside her, then two, curling them to brush against her g-spot as he sucked on her clit.

  It was too much. Keeley’s whole body clenched as her orgasm shuddered through her, pleasure and release so powerful her knees almost gave out. Panting, she grabbed for his shoulders, and he let her pull him up—slowly, kissing her thighs, her belly, under her breasts, along her shoulders.

  “I want to taste every inch of you,” he murmured, running his lips along her jawline. His eyes burned into hers.

  Keeley was still trembling with pleasure, but the look in his eyes sent a sharp shock of desire straight to her core. “What else do you want?” she teased, reaching down his pants to wrap her hand around his cock.

  Oh, wow. Fuck.

  She’d seen him naked before. Obviously. Of course she’d looked, even though she’d tried, or pretended, not to. And she’d felt his cock pressing into her stomach when he kissed her.

  But. Wow. Seeing wasn’t believing. Feeling was believing.

  “Keeley.” Lance’s voice was rough with need. “I hadn’t planned on—If we’re going too fast—”

  His whole body trembled, as though it was taking all his self-control to hold himself back. To be the self-possessed, disciplined soldier Keeley had seen earlier, not the man, wild and passionate and hot with desire.

  “Lance,” Keeley whispered. She changed her grip on his cock, pumping it until Lance groaned. “I don’t care how fast we’re going. I don’t want to slow down.”

  He kissed her, pushing her up against the window as he fumbled with his pants. Keeley helped, or hindered; at this point, she couldn’t tell.

  Lance grunted as he kicked his pants off. His cock pressed against Keeley’s stomach. Need blazed inside her, rougher and more primal than her earlier desire.

  “Take me,” she gasped, and Lance picked her up and thrust into her in one smooth movement.

  Keeley cried out, her body tensing as she adjusted to Lance’s size inside her. He rested his forehead against hers, his expression half concern, half fiery lust.

  “Are you all right?”

  She wrapped her legs around his waist and kissed him. The stretch inside her was easing—and she wanted more. The flicker of candlelight inside her was burning as hot and bright as a blowtorch.

  “I see,” Lance murmured wickedly, and kissed her back.

  His fingertips dug into her ass, and he thrust into her again, fast and hard. Keeley gasped against his lips. With every thrust, pleasure built inside her, sharp-edged and desperate, until she came, burying her scream in Lance’s shoulder. Lance buried himself fully inside her, filling her more than she’d ever thought possible, and groaned deep in his throat as he came.

  Keeley rested her head on his shoulder as her breathing slowed and her pulse stopped pounding in her ears. She felt… peaceful. Like something twisted up inside her had finally been released.

  God, when was the last time she’d had sex?

  Sex like this? Literally never.

  “Feel better?” Lance lowered Keeley to the ground but didn’t let her go. Which was good, because she was pretty sure if he had, she would have melted into a pile of goo on the floor.

  “God, yes,” she said, resting her cheek against his chest. She could feel his heartbeat, strong and steady. Just like him. Her knight in shining armor.

  She felt more relaxed than she had since— ever. Like she’d been on edge so long she’d forgotten what it was like not to have every muscle in her body knotted up with tension.

  “I’m sorry,” Lance murmured into her hair, and Keeley frowned.

  “For what?” Giving me the best orgasm of my life? Orgasms, plural?

  “I turned the lights off when I saw you were asleep.” He grimaced. “Then you woke up, terrified, saying you needed light—I fucked up. I’m sorry.”

  “What, because you didn’t read my mind and know I would freak out?” Keeley’s throat felt tight. Her happy-goo feelings were rapidly melting away, leaving a prickly, cold feeling inside her.

  Lance grumbled deep in his throat. “I should have sensed something was wrong.”

  Well, thank fuck you didn’t. A cold, gristly lump lodged in Keeley’s throat. She forced herself to smile flirtatiously up at him, fluttering her eyelashes.

  “I think you’ve more than made up for it. Really.”

  Lance smiled, with more than a hint of smugness. “Is that so?”

  “Mmm...”

  “In that case...” Lance’s eyes unfocused slightly. “Maggie’s still sleeping. It’s the middle of the night. Will you give me another chance to get you to bed?”

  Taking her playful snort of laughter as assent, he picked her up again. Keeley wrapped her arms around his neck as he walked up the stairs to his perch-like bedroom.

  He must have stripped the bed while she was sleeping. It was made with military precision, and there was no sign of the grime left from when he’d collapsed there to recover from his wounds. Just crisp sheets, plump pillows, and a comforter as smooth and white as fresh snow.

  Lance gently laid Keeley down on the bed and climbed in after her. He was so heavy on the mattress, she couldn’t help sliding closer to him. Or so she told herself.

  Take control. That’s what she’d wanted to do. Drive away the nightmare and the cold, empty terror of everything that had happened the night before. Well, she’d succeeded. None of that scared her now.

  No, what scared her now was the thought of what was going to happen next.

  Keeley lay in Lance’s arms, feeling his chest rise and fall as he fell asleep. Her knight in shining armor.

  Except he didn’t know who she really was.

  What have I done? she thought, dread settling like a lump of ice in her stomach.

  Lance

  Hungry!

  The wordless command battered its way into Lance’s sleeping mind, ripping through his mental defenses like tissue paper. He blinked, immediately awake.

  Hungry hungry hungry!

  In his arms, Keeley stirred and murmured something under her breath. Her eyebrows drew together. “Wazzat?”

  “It’s—” Lance shook his head. Keeley was human; she wouldn’t be able to hear the hatchling’s plaintive psychic cries. His snow leopard, on the other hand, was pressing against his skin in its urgency to follow the wail of hunger. “It’s nothing.”

  “Hnergh,” Keeley replied, and sat up. “M’m go—”

  Her eyes were still shut. Lance kissed her forehead, smoothing away the crease between her eyebrows. “Go back to sleep. I’ll look after it.”

  He pulled on a pair of navy sweatpants and turned just in time to see Keeley staggering toward the steps that led down to the mezzanine lounge. He grabbed her before she could fall head-first down the staircase.

  “What are you—” he began, then looked harder at her. “Are you still asleep?”

  Keeley’s eyes were still shut, but her intention was clear. She was following the same psychic wail that was pulling him downstairs.

  Maggie’s psychic powers are better developed for her age than should be possible. Lance frowned as he led Keeley down to the apartment’s floor level. Or this is a dragon thing.

  Dragons. He rubbed his temples. Everything that had happened the last few years seemed to lead back to dragons.

  Maggie’s psychic cries were so loud, he couldn’t tell where they were coming from. He hurried to the guest room, but the nest-bed Keeley had put together for the baby dragon was empty.

  Hungryyyyyy!

  Keeley had slipped out of his arms. Lance wheeled around, following her to—the kitchen?

  I’m an idiot, he thought, smacking himself on the forehead.

  Hungry hungry hungry HUNGRY!

  Lance followed Keeley into the kitchen and found a scene of utter ch
aos. Everything that had been on any flat surface had been flung to the floor. The culprit was clear. In the middle of the floor, in a pile of smashed crockery and fruit, Maggie was wrestling with the fruit bowl.

  Has she grown since last night? Lance thought. Or does she just look bigger surrounded by chaos?

  Maggie looked up at him and Keeley. She had an apple clutched in her front paws, which she nibbled experimentally and then tossed away with a hiss. The apple rolled to join a pile of nibbled, chewed, and gnawed-on fruit and cutlery under the table.

  Hungry! she demanded, and then the ridges on the top of her head stood up as she caught sight of another piece of fruit. The dragonling’s whole being, physical and psychic, radiated wonder and excitement as she leapt for the wondrous yellow foodstuff.

  The look on her face as she bit into the lemon could only be described as utter betrayal.

  Lance laughed, and Maggie turned the look of betrayal on him. Confusion and sadness broadcast from her mind. How could the fruit be so nasty? It was the same color as she was!

  He blinked. The dragonling hadn’t used words, but he knew exactly what it was trying to tell him. He rubbed his forehead. Maggie’s psychic abilities, while still juvenile, were already so much more refined and powerful than they had been the day before. The battering-ram of hunger in his head was evidence of that.

  She’s going to be more of a handful than I thought. Lance pinched the bridge of his nose as his snow leopard perked up, delighted.

  What a smart kitten we have!

  She’s a dragon, not a kitten, Lance reminded it. His snow leopard flicked its tail derisively. It knew what it was talking about, even if Lance insisted on being a dull, slow-witted human.

  Now, feed the kitten so it falls asleep again, and then take our mate back to bed, his snow leopard went on. Another psychic wail slammed into Lance’s mind, and his snow leopard flinched. Feed the kitten QUICKLY, it added.

  Lance hurried across to the fridge. He got there just as Keeley, still apparently sleep-walking, pulled the door open and almost slammed it straight into her own forehead.