That Voodoo You Do

THAT VOODOO YOU DO by Myla Jackson

Copyright © 2011, Myla Jackson. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author. Manufactured in the United States of America Editor: Layla Chase Cover artist: Myla Jackson This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author‟s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you‟re reading this book and did not purchase it, purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Chapter One Catherine Boudreaux slid into the back seat of the limousine, dead tired and sick of all the push and shove of a night out in New Orleans. James Roland, her so-called date, dropped in next to her, slobbering drunk, with hands and arms like a freakin' octopus. Even before the chauffeur closed the door, James's fingers ran over her body, slipping beneath her dress straps to pinch her breasts. Sharp pain pierced her nipples. "James, no." She pushed him away only to have him slide back, pressing her down against the leather seat. "Come on, baby, you know you want some of this." He rubbed hard ridge beneath his fly against her thigh, while sticking a wet, disgusting tongue into her ear. The man worked out. He had a nice body, but he was arrogant, obsessive and annoying. Not to mention, he was stronger than she was and using that strength to his advantage. "What part of no did you not understand?" she asked, struggling to stay ahead of his groping. "Your lips are saying no, but your body is telling me yes." "I don't know what translation you're using, but you've got it all wrong." She shoved both hands hard against his chest. "Let me up now, or I'll have to get violent." "Yeah, baby, I love it when you talk tough." His fingers squeezed harder on her nipple and his tongue dug deeper into her ear. Her body stiffened. Catherine only wanted to go home and sleep off a migraine quickly growing in proportion to the amount of gymnastics she performed to evade James. "Come on, let's do it here." James ground his pelvis against hers, his head descending to claim her lips. Catherine turned her face from his kiss, his wet lips sliming her cheek. "I'm not in the mood." "Come on, don't you want to celebrate your purchase?" "I'll celebrate in a bubble bath." Which sounded sadly more interesting than James. His hands slithered down her body, cupping her pussy through the thin fabric of her dress. "That sounds like fun." "Alone." Catherine slapped away his hand.

"You worked hard to acquire that tract of swamp land, imagine all the oil you can pump out of it." He shivered. "I get chills just thinking of all that money you'll add to your family fortune." "Yeah. So what's that got to do with pawing me?" She planted a palm against his forehead and leveraged away his face. "You and me, we're made for each other. I can help you invest all that lovely cash in the stock market. You'll be even richer." Invest? Catherine went still beneath James. "Is that why you asked me out? You want to manage my money?" "Hell, yeah." He planted a slobbery kiss against her chin, reeking of scotch. "Who wouldn't want to?" Catherine sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Why did she think this would be any different? James was handsome, well-built and...just like every other man she'd met since she'd inherited her grandfather's billions. They all wanted only one part of her—the part that included her bank account. She fumbled for the intercom button on the door and jabbed it. James shoved a hand into the slit of her skirt, his fingers hooking the elastic of her panties, ripping them over her hips. The window behind the driver's seat slid downward. "Yes, Miss Boudreaux?" "Stop the car," she demanded, straining against James‟s weight. "Hey, shut the damned window," James shouted, flinging his shoe at the driver. "We're about to do some serious fucking." "Like hell we are." Catherine brought up her knee sharply between James's legs, hitting his sweet spot with as much force as she could leverage. "Just in case you didn't get the message, I said no." James screamed like a girl and fell over onto the floor, clutching his crotch. In the middle of New Orleans traffic, the vehicle screeched to a halt. The chauffeur, dressed in a black suit with a crisp white shirt, black tie and mirrored sunglasses, opened the back door. Catherine sat up quickly, straightening her dress to cover her naked breasts. "Etienne, please escort this gentleman to the curb."

"Etienne had a family emergency and wasn't able to perform the remainder of his driving duties tonight," the chauffeur announced. "I'm his replacement, Lucien." "Whatever," Catherine waved a hand. "Get this man out of here." With a groan, James grabbed for her calf. "Catherine, don't play hard to get. I was only teasing." "Get out, James." She kicked at his hand, her high heel connecting with the man's cheekbone, leaving a long, jagged scratch. James grabbed his face. "Bitch." When he reached for her again, Lucien yanked the offensive man by his feet, dragging him from the limousine and onto the sidewalk. Once James was outside the vehicle, the chauffeur assisted the man to his feet, and dusted him off, with a great deal of civility, even retrieving the shoe James had flung. Then Lucien closed the car door. Catherine punched the lock button as James lunged for the door handle. He yanked on it and then pounded both fists against the window. "Catherine Boudreaux, you'll pay for this!" She leaned back against the seat, rubbing her fingers over her sore nipples, feeling like she'd already paid for it. Her hand fell to her side landing on a soft fabric pouch. Had it fallen out of James's pocket? Catherine switched on a reading light and studied the object. If she wasn't mistaken, this was a gris gris pouch, the kind the Voodoo shops sold by the thousands to gullible tourists. What was James doing with it? Trying to weave a little love spell? Catherine snorted. Not happening. She rolled down the window, about to throw the pouch at James. Before the window slid down, the limo pulled out into traffic. "Are you all right, Miss Boudreaux?" Lucien called through the open dividing glass. She stared into the rearview mirror, expecting the mirrored sunglasses, instead she fell into the driver's deep gold eyes reflecting back at her. He had black hair and equally black brows, his skin swarthy and tanned. Yum. Something primal stirred deep in Catherine's body. "Where to, ma'am?" With the gris gris clenched in her hand, her head pounding as if natives beat tom toms in rhythm with her pulse, Catherine's eyes blurred and she dragged her gaze from the handsome

driver. Her head fell back against the seat. "I don't care...take me away." "Anywhere in particular?" he asked. "An island out in the middle of nowhere." She closed her eyes, willing the pain to ease from her temples. "Someplace where people like that creep James can't find me would be nice." "I know just the spot," the chauffeur murmured. Something in his tone made Catherine glance at the mirror. If she wasn't mistaken, the pupils in his golden eyes flared, his pupils dilating to small black dots, a sexy smile curling the corners of his lips. Catherine blinked, the pounding behind her temples reverberating throughout her body, at one with the beat of her pulse. She tried to lift her arms to push her hair out of her face, but she didn't have the energy. One last glance at the hunky driver and her eyelids drifted closed. Why had he been smiling? No matter, a little nap was what she needed. How long since she'd had a decent night's sleep? Since before she'd begun the proceedings to purchase the bayou. A short, sharp laugh bubbled up from her lungs. She'd bought a large swath of land in a swamp. Boy, wouldn't her granddaddy be surprised? The drumming inside her head increased, drowning out all thought. Images of a bonfire, and a witch wearing a bright red, flowing gown danced in and out of her pre-slumber dreams. What the hell had been in her last drink?

Chapter Two "Why did you bring her here?" Bastian Chevalier paced the living room of the spacious cabin the brothers had built deep in Bayou Panthère. "It was your idea." Luc tossed his duffle bag, containing the suit and tie he'd used to convince Miss Boudreaux he was the real deal, the replacement chauffeur for her private limousine. He owed Etienne for letting him drive that night and Madame LeBieu for the added encouragement of the gris gris pouch. "How was kidnapping a billionaire my idea?" Bastian flung his arms in the air, his golden eyes, so similar to Luc's, flashing in the dim lighting. "You wanted to talk to the woman. And, well, the idea was actually Madame LeBieu's to take a little Voodoo charm in case I found her to be difficult. She thought that if I could get the woman out here, she'd see the importance of protecting the fragile ecosystem instead of dredging channels and sinking oil wells. We can't let that happen. This is our home. Our people have lived here for hundreds of years." "Sure, I wanted to stop her from doing all those things, but..." Bastian scraped his hands through his thick black hair. "I wonder what the max sentence is for drugging and kidnapping a very rich heiress?" Catherine Boudreaux lay sleeping in Luc's bedroom and probably wouldn't wake until morning, given the power of the gris gris Madame LeBieu had prepared for the occasion. Lucien paced in the opposite direction of his brother. "What do we do now?" Bastian stopped in mid-stride. "We? Why should I be involved in this? You were the one who abducted her." Luc grinned, remembering her blue eyes. "She actually asked me to take her away to a deserted island." "She what?" Luc explained what had happened and how he'd evicted the date out of the limousine. "Not only will you face charges of kidnapping, you're also going to be up for assault against the woman's date." Bastian shook his head. "We're in deep trouble. All we can hope is that they don't find her until we return her to civilization." Luc paused at his doorway and stared at the sleeping woman. Long blond hair, loosened

from the sophisticated chignon, spread out on the pillow, her dress askew, showing a significant amount of leg and a peek at lacy black panties. His groin tightened, an image of her staring at him in the rearview mirror flashing through his thoughts. "Can't we keep her?" he whispered. "Hell no!" Bastian moved alongside his brother. "She's not a kitten you find on the roadside. She has a home, people who care about where she is. Likely by now, they have an allout manhunt initiated." "Woman hunt." "Whatever." Bastian peered over Luc's shoulder, his body growing still. "You feel it too, don't you?" Luc asked. "I don't know what you mean." After a long pause, Bastian moved. "I'm going for a run." "Careful, le Ole Man was lurking nearby when I arrived in the pirogue." "I'm surprised you got her out of the boat without tipping." "It was a struggle." Luc recalled the feel of her sweet body against his, the curves and valleys all in the right places. "You should have been here." "Wish I had. I would have made you take her back." "And now?" "Now... run." A moan sounded. "Looks like she's coming around." Luc dragged his gaze from the woman. "Don't you want to meet the lady?" "I'll let you get her past the awkward moment of telling her where she is and why she's here." Bastian unbuttoned his jeans and stepped out, tossing them into the room beside Lucien. "How long will you be gone?" Luc asked, his gaze flickering between Catherine and his brother. Naked, Bastian strode past him. "As long as it takes." Lucien's glance took in the boner Bastian flashed as he walked by. "That'll be a while." "Shut the fuck up." As he hit the door, Bastian's body changed, black hairs spiked out of his skin, his arms and legs shifting, crackling and morphing until he dropped to all fours. Completely covered in black fur, the panther cast a golden-eyed gaze back at Lucien. "I'll take care of her. Go get fucked or something."

Bastian leaped off the end of the porch onto a hummock of land, bounding from island to island until his lithe, black body disappeared into the shadows of the bayou. Another moan drew Lucien's attention, and he entered the room where Catherine Boudreaux lay sleeping. He leaned over her, brushing a strand of pale blond hair off her cheek. Her face turned into his hand, her warm lips pressing against his palm. "Umm. Kiss me, lover." Lucien chuckled even as his breath caught in his chest. What harm could one kiss be? He bent to press his lips to hers, an electric spark firing through his system, igniting every nerve and blood cell, so similar to when he shifted that he fought to control his inner beast. Her arms circled the back of his neck, her fingers threading through his hair. With his cock swelling, his mind numbing, Lucien teetered on the verge of yanking her out of her dress and plunging deep inside her warm wet channel. As his knee rose to climb onto the bed beside her, her eyes opened, her body stiffened and before he knew what would happen, she pulled him against her, performed a full body-roll and they tumbled off the bed.

Catherine's knees clamped around the man's arms, her thighs pressing hard holding him down, for how long, she didn't know. Fear and adrenaline pushed through her veins as she gripped his throat and squeezed, her fingers tightening around his windpipe. "Where am I, and who the hell are you?" "Will you let me breathe?" the man gasped, the pupils in his golden eyes dilating. "No." Her fingers squeezed harder, a shiver of fear feathering across her skin. "I don't trust you." The man's eyes squeezed shut. For one frightening moment, Catherine thought she'd killed him. Then the man beneath her erupted off the floor. One moment, she was practically thrown into the air. The next, she was lying on her back on the hardwood floor, hands pinned above her head, a lean, hard body pressing against her, rendering her immobile. "Get off me." She bucked and twisted, unable to move more than an inch or two in any direction. "I will, when you promise to behave." He stared, his eyes narrowing, the pupils dilating,

capturing her attention. Her struggles ceased. "I know you." "I don't think so." "You're Lucien, the chauffeur. Etienne's replacement." She glanced around, taking in rough hew walls and masculine furnishings. "I've been kidnapped, haven't I?" "Yes, I'm Lucien, but most people call me Luc.” He shook his head. “And no, I didn't kidnap you." Catherine snorted. "Don't play dumb with me. It's kidnapping if I didn't ask to be brought here, and I didn't." "Think again." He leaned over her, his mouth descending toward hers. Startled by his nearness, Catherine's lips parted, her breath rising in a suspended gasp. At the last moment, he turned his head and ducked low, his breath stirring the tendrils of hair below her ear. "Think. What was the last thing I asked you?" She shook her head, her mind reeling from sudden desire, her lips tingling from an almost-kiss. "I d-don't remember." "Then let me remind you." While one hand held her wrists, the thumb on his other hand stroked her chin. "I asked, Where to? And you said..." He tipped his head, his brows rising. Memory of her exact words flooded through her mind. "An island out in the middle of nowhere." Her gaze darted from side to side. "Where am I?" "You're on an island." He grinned. "A what?" Catherine bucked beneath him. "I don't believe you." "See for yourself." He leaped to his feet and yanked her up from the floor all in one fluid motion. Caught off balance, she fell against him. His arm circled her waist, steadying her. The warmth of his hand filtering through the thin chiffon layers of her dress. Heat pooled deep in her belly, burning a path even lower. How long had it been since she'd be as sexually stirred? And he was a stranger. A dangerous one, at that. Catherine shoved at his hand. "I don't need you to hold me up and I don't believe we are on an island." He waved toward the bedroom door. "See for yourself." Free from his hold, Catherine raced for the front door, bursting through, and would have pitched off the edge of the porch and out into the water, if Lucien hadn't grabbed her around the

waist and pulled her back against him. Dark water surrounded them with little hummocks of land dotting the surface where trees and underbrush clung to the soil in a tangle of roots. "Are you crazy? Where are we? A bayou or something?" Her throat clenching tightly, she pounded his chest. "Take me home immediately." "I'll take you home...just not yet." He let go. Catherine staggered backward, careful not to fall in. She stared across the landscape at cypress trees so tall their branches wove a canopy, allowing only small patches of sunshine to illuminate the inky blackness of the still water. "You live here? Alone?" "My brother and I live here. And we're not alone. Many other creatures live in the bayou." She huffed. "Creatures, yeah, I can believe that. What about other humans?" He shrugged. "Not many." Trepidation growing, she stared at the black water surround the island. "How do you get here?" "By boat." Her pulse racing, she sucked in a deep breath and let it out slow and steady. "You really did bring me somewhere nobody could find me." A shiver shook her body, even as the heat and humidity pressed close. She wrapped her arms around herself. "Take me home, please." "I will," he said. "Tomorrow. I promise." Her breath caught in her throat. "But I want to go now." Was that her voice, sounding like a pathetic little girl? "Tomorrow." He turned and ducked back in the house. "Hungry?" Casting one last glance at her surroundings, Catherine trailed behind him. "You're holding me against my will. You know that's against the law." When he didn't respond, she continued, "I could sue you for everything you have. You'll go to jail." He cast a half-smile over his shoulder. "How's a turkey sandwich sound?" Although her stomach rumbled at the thought of food, she knew she had to get away. "Uh, sure. Is there a bathroom? I'd like to freshen up." "Second door on the left, down the hall." Walls of rough cedar were lined with photographs of the brothers and what looked like

their parents and other relatives. "What happened to your parents?" "They're away on a...mission trip in Africa." Catherine entered the bathroom, quickly took care of business and hurried back out, tiptoeing by the kitchen door. After clearing the kitchen, she made a run for freedom.

Chapter Three Fear and adrenaline spurred on Catherine, as she rushed for the front door, easing it open. Out on the porch, which served as a dock, she located a small dugout canoe with one paddle. Never having canoed a day in her life, she shrugged. The task couldn't be that hard. She untied the rope mooring the canoe to the dock. Gathering her dress's long skirt, she stepped off the dock and into the tiny boat. It rocked crazily and she nearly fell in. She flopped down on the bottom of the boat, biting hard on her bottom lip to keep from crying out. As the canoe settled, Catherine breathed for the first time in what felt like hours. Carefully, she lifted the single paddle and dug it into the water like she'd seen on the movies. The craft slid forward, bumping into one of the poles the house stood on. She gasped and glanced up at the house. Nothing stirred, no one came out and shouted. She pressed the paddle against the pole, pushing the canoe away from the house and out into the open water. With her pulse galloping, she dipped the paddle into the water on the right side. The canoe shot forward and to the left. She lifted the paddle and plowed it into the water on the left side. Soon she had a rhythm going and the distance grew between her and the house. When she'd gained sufficient distance that even Luc couldn't swim and catch up, she laughed out loud. "No one keeps a Boudreaux prisoner for long." A shadow moved on a stretch of land beside her. Catherine's heart shot into her throat. She squinted, trying to make out what it was. Gold eyes gleamed in the dark underbrush. If she wasn't mistaken, the animal was a cat. A big, black monster of a cat. No, the creature wasn't a cat at all, but a panther, larger than any Catherine had seen in a zoo. Her heartbeat skittering into panic mode, Catherine dug her paddle into the water so deep her fingers got wet and the canoe turned away from the shoreline and the large feline. Again, she struck out on the same side, desperate to put enough water between her and the animal. Instead, the canoe spun in a circle. The gold eyes flashed and the panther's mouth opened, long sharp teeth glinting in a flash of sunshine. It growled, a paw stretching out, claws extended. Her heart thumping hard against her chest, Catherine knew she had to paddle on the other

side to straighten the boat and get away from the cat. Her wets hands shook badly as she swung the paddle to the opposite side. The wooden oar slipped from her fingers and plunged into the water, shooting away before she could grab it. The cat in the shadows surged forward. Catherine lunged for the paddle, the canoe tipped and she fell in, her long dress weighing her down, dragging her to the bottom. Usually a good swimmer, she panicked, her arms flailing as she struggled for the surface. Her legs tangled in the long skirt, forcing her arms to do all the work. By the time she reached air, her lungs burned, her arms strained and she couldn't decide whether she was more afraid of the panther or of drowning. Struggling to tread water, while her dress pulled her downward, Catherine's gaze panned her immediate surroundings. The stretch of land where the panther paced the water's edge was closest, but out of the question. Other tiny islands lay much farther away. What looked like a log floating in the dark water could be a temporary reprieve until Catherine decided what to do. The log was almost as close as the panther and seemed to be moving her way. Then the log blinked. Catherine's blood ran cold, her arms and legs stopped fighting the water for a moment and she sank, water washing up her nose. She kicked upward, back-paddling toward the land, panther or no panther. She'd rather take her chances with a panther than an alligator. One minute the alligator was there, the next he was gone. Catherine glanced down at the murky water. Where'd he go? Dear God, he'd gone down, heading directly for her. She turned and swam as fast as she could, straight for land, the black panther and assuredly death. Five feet from shore, she could taste her salvation. She'd make dry ground and then have to fight off the panther. At least she could breathe on land. Just a few more feet. Her arms ached, her feet barely helped so hampered by the skirt of her long gown, but Catherine pushed on. Then long, sharp teeth scraped across her skin, snagged her dress and yanked her backward and underwater. Her chest clenched. Seconds later, a large splash landed next to her. She couldn't see anything. Murky, nasty swamp water filled her mouth and lungs, and

blinded her eyes. Catherine fought like a mad woman to get away from an angry alligator with a mouth full of fabric. She prayed he got as tangled in the folds as she'd been and leave her flesh alone. If she wanted to live, she had to lose the dress and get out of water. Lungs burning with the need for air, Catherine slipped the straps off her shoulders and tore at the waistline, fumbling fingers struggling to find the zipper. Long sharp claws slashed through the layers, digging into her skin. A stab of pain barely registered as her dress floated free of her body. Catherine kicked hard, pushing upward to surface. She breached, gasping, coughing and sucking a lungful of air into her body. Without wasting time, she stroked hard for shore, dragging her body up the muddy banks. The panther was nowhere to be seen. Once her feet and body were safely out of the swamp, she pushed to her knees and glanced back as the water churned. A black blur surfaced on top of the alligator's back as the reptile rolled his huge body. Another splash captured her attention and Catherine turned toward the house on the edge of the swamp. Luc swam toward the fray, a knife between his teeth, his arms and legs propelling him forward with the speed of an Olympic athlete. Her heart banging against the walls of her chest, Catherine cried out. The alligator and the panther disappeared beneath the surface. Luc yanked the knife from his mouth and dove after the pair. Stunned, scared and shaking so hard her teeth rattled, Catherine leaned toward the water. "Come up," she whispered. Bubbles rose to the surface, ripples spreading outward the only indication of the mighty fight for survival taking place beneath. "Come up." Catherine rose to her feet, holding onto the knee of a cypress tree to keep from slipping down the muddy bank and back into the murky water. Dark, thick swirls stained the surface. Was it blood? Catherine dropped down into water up to her knees. "Luc?" Then water erupted and Luc rose up like Poseidon, his rich, black hair plastered to his scalp. Beside him, the water rushed upward and the panther surged to the surface.

Catherine screamed and pointed to the cat."Luc! Watch out!" Luc and the panther swam toward her. Blood pinged through her veins like popcorn in the microwave. Her breathing grew ragged and she scrambled backward up the muddy bank, falling on her near-naked ass, her hands and feet digging in but sliding downward. She turned and grabbed for roots, vines, anything to pull herself to safety, away from the huge black panther. She reached the top of the bank, staggered to her bare feet, slipped on the mud and fell. Her head hit the trunk of a cypress, pain shooting lights through her vision, blinding her. Then the daylight snuffed to dark.

Chapter Four Luc climbed up the bank and squatted beside the woman who'd made a daring escape into a swamp she knew nothing about. When he'd heard her scream, he'd run out on the deck to see her fall out of the pirogue. Two seconds later, the Ole Man, the biggest, meanest alligator in Panthère Bayou, slid into the water. A fear he had never known shook him to the core. He'd grabbed his knife from inside the front door, stripped out of his jeans and dove into the bayou, swimming as fast as he could, praying to the Voodoo priestess to spare Catherine. Now he stood over her, his own body quivering from his near-death experience. He'd almost lost her and his brother, never mind the danger to himself. He shook her shoulder, amazed at the softness of her skin. "Catherine?" She moaned. A good sign. But her eyes remained closed. His gaze panned the length of her naked body, noting the bloody scratch on her leg and waist. He swiped at both with a finger, gauging the depth. "Her injuries look worse than they are. I'm more concerned that she's not waking up." He glanced at his brother, standing beside him on all fours, still in panther form. Bastian shook the water out of his fur and began the transformation. Several seconds later, he stood on human legs, his feline teeth the last to recede. "Stay with her, I'll get the pirogue." "No. You could use the rest. I wasn't down as long." Luc straightened, his gaze taking in the wet, yet desirable, woman lying at their feet. "Ah chere, you're beautiful." "And incredibly brainless to jump into an alligator-filled swamp," Bastian stated in a flat tone. Luc chuckled. "I'd call it courageous." "More like stupid." Bastion's gaze traveled her length. "But you have to admit..." Luc nodded at Bastian's swelling cock, "you're not immune." "Shut up and get the damned pirogue before I throw you to the next alligator that comes along." Luc dove into the water and swam after the boat, trapped in the trees a couple hundred

yards away. Bastian dropped to his haunches beside Catherine. "What kind of fool jumps into an alligator-infested swamp after a paddle?" He nudged the wet strand of hair from her face. Though he didn't want to admit to his brother, he found the woman far too attractive to be alone in the swamp with two horny men. "And stubborn and too rich for her own good." Or theirs. She held the cards. Catherine Boudreaux owned the majority of the swamp where Luc, Bastian and dozens of other Panthères, just like them, resided. Many of their kind lived in cities like New Orleans, but were constrained by the walls and lights, unable to make the change when they wanted or needed. With homes in the bayou, they could live free of fear and discovery. For the most part. Until someone like Catherine bought a significant portion with the intention of dredging, stripping and drilling for oil. The fragile ecosystem would suffer, humans with all their machines, noise and trash would pollute the environment, making it unfit to live in. Bastian found it hard to look at this woman with the beautiful body, lying so helpless and desirable, and remember she was the same monster who threatened their way of life. He touched the soft swell of her breast, running a finger down her side to the point where he'd cut her with his razor-sharp claws, trying to free her of the gown the alligator had snagged with his teeth. The gown had saved her from certain death or dismemberment. He couldn't have gotten to her soon enough to stop the Ole Man, had the „gator not gotten caught up in the yards of fabric. Catherine's skin twitched beneath Bastian's fingertips, her back arched and she cried out, her eyes opening wide. "The alligator," she gasped, scooting back into the brush, her gaze panning the water behind him. "Dead." He straightened. "My brother killed him." Her head swiveled, her glance darting left and right. "The panther?" His lips twisted—what she didn't know wouldn't hurt her or them. "Gone, for now." Catherine drew in a shaky breath, closing her eyes as her fingers fluttered to her bare breasts. Again, her eyes blinked wide open. "My dress!" She covered her tits with her palms. "And where are your clothes?" "Couldn't move fast enough with them on." "Luc?" She peered past him and let out a sigh. "Oh, thank God he's all right." She pulled herself up to a sitting position, her gaze avoiding Bastian's nakedness.

Bastian chuckled. "Yeah, a good thing he's handy with a knife or you would have been the Ole Man's dinner." The woman's brow furrowed. "The old man?" He nodded toward the pirogue Luc guided toward them. "Instead he's going to be our dinner." The huge alligator floated alongside the canoe, his body limp, blood trailing behind in a dark stream. Catherine pressed a hand to her lips, her face turning white. "That's what attacked me?" "Yes, ma'am." He nodded toward the 'gator, still amazed they'd all come out relatively unscathed. "Ole Man is responsible for several deaths and lost body parts, not to mention missing pets in Panthère Bayou." "Isn't it illegal to kill alligators without a hunting permit?" She shot him a glance, her gaze slipping downward to his cock, before she looked away. Her chest swelled and her pink tongue darted out to moisten her lips. "Not that I'm criticizing you, but couldn't you get in trouble for killing him?" "Not if you're in danger. I'd say you were about to be eaten. Self defense is enough of a justification." He bit back a grin and glanced at her, forcing his face to be serious. "Now, if you'd rather we followed to the letter of the law, we could try to revive the alligator and throw you back in the swamp." She straightened, her hands squeezing hard on her breasts. The movement did funny things to Bastian's insides. Oh, yeah, the woman was beautiful. Her body athletic, toned, but soft and full in all the right places. Her strawberry-tipped nipples had puckered and pointed when she'd stared across at his manhood. "Can you manage getting into the pirogue, or do you need help?" He held out his hand. She pointedly ignored him, her gaze on the boat as it slid up to the shore. "Ah, good. You're going to live." Ever the charmer, Luc smiled up at her. Her nose tipped skyward. "No thanks to you." "Hmmm. Seems I just wrestled an alligator to save your pretty ass." His eyes narrowed playfully as he blatantly studied her derriere. "Definitely an ass worth saving." His animal pushed for release inside Bastian, wanting to lash out at Luc for teasing the lady so easily. "What? Is this swim-in-the-swamp-naked day?" She glanced at Luc's cock, jutting

straight out. "And do you normally get a hard-on when you wrestle alligators?" He laughed. "As a matter of fact, I do. At least when there's a gorgeous, naked woman nearby to watch." "If you would quit flirting, maybe we could get her back to the house and clean those wounds before they become infected." Bastian again held out his hand. "I recommend you accept my assistance." "I can do this on my own." Her chin tipped and she eased down the slippery slope. As her feet touched the water, she threw a triumphant glance his way. A snake slithered by, skimming the surface beside her leg at just that moment. Catherine squealed and threw herself at Bastian, her arms wrapping around his neck, her legs around his waist. A problem he hadn't anticipated. The laughter that had risen in his chest died a swift death as soon as her crotch made contact with his dick. The thin line of her thong panties was not much of a barrier. He could divest her of the thong in a single second with a flick of his cat claw. "Put her down, Bastian," Luc warned. "We don't want to scare the woman more than she already is." "Is it gone?" Catherine's head turned left then right, her legs still clamped around his waist, her arms practically strangling him. "Yes, it's gone," he said through clenched teeth. "If you'll get in the pirogue, we can get you back to the house." "You don't have to bite my head off." Her body relaxed against his, until she realized just how close they were. Her mouth rounded into an O. "Oh. Okay, you can put me down." Her nipples puckered against his chest. "I can get into the boat on my own." "No offense, but I think you'll have to let go of me first." Bastian's lips twitched, even as the tight control on his inner beast slipped a notch, his incisors flexing outward. "Oh, yes." She glanced down once more before unlocking her legs from around his waist and letting them drop to the ground. Her belly bumped against his full-blown erection and her face flamed. "Wow, I'm sorry...I didn't mean..." She spun and tumbled into the pirogue, practically capsizing it, before Luc steadied the craft. As Luc leveraged the paddle to push off the bank, Bastian grabbed the tip of the pirogue. "I'd better come along to keep you safe from any other attacks."

"Are there other alligators in the area?" With a gasp, Catherine hugged her arms across her breasts, her gaze panning the water. "No, but there are other more dangerous bastard—creatures besides alligators." Luc smirked at his brother. "Look who's talking," Bastian countered. Catherine sat in the bottom of the pirogue, her back to Bastian, but the position didn't help. The narrowness of her waist and the flare of her hips had him so wound up, the panther inside him threatened to explode if he didn't fuck something soon. When they reached the house, he was first out of the boat, reaching down to offer a hand to Catherine. She stared at the hand and the boat, her other hand trying, but not succeeding, at covering both breasts. With a sigh, she took the proffered hand and climbed up on the dock. Bastian curled an arm around her waist, to steady her, or so he told himself. "You can have the shower first. Then we'll tend those scrapes. Swamp water can be harsh on open wounds." Catherine scurried toward the bathroom and soon the shower flowed, the sound of water doing nothing to calm the beast in Bastian. Luc climbed up on the dock, tied the mooring rope to a post and stood beside his brother, staring into the front door. "She's got me harder than a cypress knee and hornier than a 'gator in season." "You've opened a can of worms neither of us can handle." Bastian's glance traveled from his own hard-on to his brother's. "You know she's hands off, don't you? We can't add rape to kidnapping charges and escape a heavy jail term. Hell, we can't go to jail. Our kind don't do well behind bars." Luc nodded. "Yeah, brother, we have a problem. But I think it's more along the line of who gets her?" He grinned. "I'm betting on me. Unless you're willing to share." Bastian's brow furrowed. "Not that I'm even contemplating fucking the woman, but do you think she'd go for two? She's a human. Not many human women are into ménage." With a shrug Luc entered the house, calling back over his shoulder. "Let's find out." The screen slammed behind him. "Luc..." Bastian shoved through the door, following his brother. "We can't risk it."

"Risk what? She was as hot for us as we were for her." Luc stopped and faced Bastian. "You know it's true. We can smell her desire." Bastian's nostrils flared. He was right. One of those gifts of being a shifter. Even in human form, they retained their animal senses. He could still smell the lush odor of Catherine's lust, the musky scent of wet pussy and not the dampness from taking a plunge in the swamp water. His groin tightened, his cock jutting straight out. "Damn it, Luc. She's bad news, I tell you." Luc shrugged. "What do we have to lose that we're not already in danger of losing?" "Our home, our freedom, our lives." "Already in danger by the sale of the bayou." Luc's shoulders drooped. "Relax, bro. I'll play it cool. Hands off unless she asks for it. Deal?" Bastian hesitated. Luc didn't give up that easily. "I don't' trust you. But what choice do I have?" He stuck out his hand. "Deal." Luc grasped his fingers in a tight grip and shook. "Now, I'm grabbing the first-aid kit while you slip into some clothes." Bastian ducked into his room and pulled a pair of loose cargo shorts up over his hips and rock-hard cock. The fabric tented out, but nothing would change that anytime soon. The shower shut off about the time he reached into his drawer and found a large, soft, clean T-shirt and hurried toward the bathroom. A soft rap on the door elicited a sharp squeal from within. "Don't come in," Catherine called out. "I have something you can put on for now." A long, pale arm stuck out the door, the hand flapping. "Hand it over." He chuckled, holding the shirt just out of her reach. After a moment, she leaned out, snatched the shirt, showing a little boob in the process. "You're an animal," she said through the wooden door panel. Bastian's lips twitched. "Got that right." He turned to find Luc standing in the kitchen door, first-aid supplies in hand. "Not going to touch her, huh?" He snorted, shoved the kit at Bastian and stalked into his room for a pair of shorts.

Bastian leaned in his brother's doorway. Luc was built just as strong, lean and muscular as he was. Neither one had a problem getting the girls, but relationships never lasted long, they had their secrets. Secrets best kept inside the clan. The only humans who knew about the Panthères were the mates of clan members. "She's off limits, bro." "You saying that for my benefit or yours?" Bastian suspected it was for his own. Damn Lucien for seeing right through him. The door to the bathroom opened, steam wafting into the room. When Bastian turned, he groaned. Catherine stood in the hallway, the shirt hanging down to mid-thigh, her hair hanging in limp strands down around her shoulders. She finger-combed it to smooth the tangles, her arms rising, lifting the shirt higher up her thighs. Luc growled beside him, and surged forward. Bastian slammed an arm across his brother's chest, though he felt the exact same way. He wanted to jump the woman's body and fuck her until she came. Keeping their hands off her would prove very difficult. And lead to a very long bayou night.

Chapter Five Luc pushed past Bastian's arm, snarling. The swell of his fly making it obvious that he was aroused. A shiver of answering desire startled Catherine and she backed up a step. Luc smiled and waved her forward. "Ah, good. Why don't you lie down on my bed and let me take care of those cuts." And anything else that tempts me? The thought filled her mind before she could logic it away. Why would she want to be intimate with this man who'd had the audacity to kidnap her? She glanced down at his groin, her tongue snaking out to dampen her lips, her pussy creaming. After inhaling and exhaling deliberately, she planted a hand on her hip and forced herself to gaze into his eyes. "Are you going to take me home after that?" "No," Luc said. He led her into his room and patted the king-sized bed. "Sit." Blood pounding, she frowned from him to his brother, the bed calling to her, her pussy aching with the need to respond. But she couldn't. Not with these strangers. "I can take care of it myself." "Bastian and I insist." Luc shot a look at Bastian and tilted his head. "Don't we, bro?" Bastian hooked her arm and led her to the bed. "Sit." Electric shocks exploded through her nerve endings, sending crazy messages to her brain. Messages that urged her to shuck the shirt and lay down on the bed for other than medical reasons. She frowned, pulling her arm from Bastian's grasp. "Is that an order?" "Consider it looking out for your best interests." He stood with both arms folded over his chest. "Nice, bro. You'll really win her over by glaring." Lucien smiled at Catherine. "My brother doesn't know how to loosen up. I, on the other hand, do." He opened the kit. "If you'll have a seat, we can apply antibiotic ointment to the scrapes on your thigh and waist. You really are lucky the alligator caught your dress and not your leg." "Lucky? I wouldn't have been anywhere near the alligator if you hadn't kidnapped me and brought me to this godforsaken swamp." Her scrapes stinging from the shower, Catherine weighed her options. Go without aid and die of swamp poisoning or suffer the ministrations of her captors. She scooted past the angry Bastian, her nipples puckering against the fabric of the

loaned T-shirt. A shirt he had worn. The room seemed to be getting smaller, the broad shoulders of both men filling it and making it much harder to breathe. She perched on the edge of the bed, tugging down the shirt to hide her lack of panties. Her thong hung on the towel rack in the bathroom drying after she'd scrubbed it in the shower. As her bottom scraped back across the plain white sheets, the friction ignited her pussy, sending delightful sensations spreading outward. How could she be so turned on when she was being held against her will? Once again, she was reminded of how long it had been since she'd been this...stimulated. "What did you put in my drink to make me pass out in the limousine?" Luc sat on the bed beside her, holding a tube of antibiotic ointment and a cotton ball. "Nothing." He glanced down quickly. His expression was less than convincing. "If not in my drink..." An image of the little fabric pouch sitting on the seat beside her flashed in her memory. "You left the gris gris in the seat, didn't' you?" Lucien shrugged. "Perhaps." "Don't tell me you used some Voodoo spell on me." Catherine shook her head. "I don't believe in all that mumbo jumbo." His lips twisted. "Sometimes it's easier to ignore the things you don't understand." Fat chance. Her gaze narrowed. "Perhaps you can help me understand the reason you brought me here." "Until you're ready to believe, I see no reason to enlighten you." He greased the cotton ball with the gel and slid it along her leg in a slow, even glide. The knuckles brushing her skin ignited her senses. As his fingers eased up the long shallow scrape, nearing the hem of her shirt, Catherine's breathing became more erratic until it lodged in her lungs altogether. When he reached for the hem of her shirt, she grabbed his wrist and held tight. "I can take it from here." "No, you can't. The scrape runs along your side to the middle of your back." His gaze held hers, his hand curling around her upper thigh. "Roll over onto your stomach." She stared at his hand, the fingers resting near the juncture of her thighs, warming her

skin. "I don't trust you...not to take advantage of me," she ended on a whisper. Lucien's lips slid into a devilishly sexy smile. But it was Bastian who spoke. "We won't take advantage of you, if it's not what you want." He moved closer, snagged another cotton ball and smeared ointment on it. "Let me take care of that scrape on your back. It was my fault it's there in the first place." Lucien chuckled. "Hands off, huh, bro?" But he moved away, allowing Bastian to take his spot on the bed. "Roll onto your stomach," Bastian said. Catherine gazed into his startlingly golden eyes and, despite her better sense, did as he asked. Rough fingers nudged her shirt hem upward, over her butt cheeks. Her pussy clenched, juices drenching her channel. He pressed the cotton ball to her skin, sliding the ointment along the scratch, from the middle of her ass up to her ribs. Catherine squeezed her thighs tightly together so that the men wouldn't see the juicy affects they evoked. Frankly she was shocked at her own wanton reaction, but she couldn't help herself. Her ass rose off the bed, pressing against his wrist, wanting more than the touch of the cotton ball. When his hand skimmed over the curve of her uninjured cheek, she sucked in a sharp breath. In a few steps, Lucien rounded the bed and knelt on the other side. "Is he hurting you?" "Uh, no," she gasped. "You liked that, didn't you?" Bastian leaned over her shoulder, his fingers pulling the damp strands of hair away from her ear. "You want more." "Hey, brother, let the lady speak for herself." Lucien smoothed his hand over her shoulder. "Do you?" Catherine inhaled, closed her eyes and willed herself to show some control. When she opened her eyes to stare into Lucien's equally golden eyes, his hard, muscular chest within easy reach, her brain disengaged and her senses took over. "Yes." Bastian leaned close and sniffed. "Umm, you smell better without the city on you." His hand on her ass flexed, squeezing tighter. "Do you want me?" Bastian's gravelly question spread over her body like warm, melted chocolate. Her belly

quivered. Lucien's fingers slid lower down her arm, the tips nudging at her breasts. "Or do you want us both?" Both? She swallowed hard. Breathing became impossible. "I'm your captive. What choice do I have?" Lucien clucked his tongue, his fingers leaving her skin. Bastian backed away, straightening from the bed. "We're not in the habit of raping women. If you want us, you have to ask." The sudden withdrawal of both men left her cold and frustrated. She rolled to her back, the shirt twisting, exposing her pussy. She didn't care. "Us?" Catherine's fevered mind clutched the word even as her hands skimmed over her breasts and traveled lower to her aching core. "As in both of you?" She sighed. "I must be insane." "And?" Luc prompted. They were strangers. She was their prisoner. A thrill of excitement angled southward. Today was Saturday, the weekend would end and she'd get back to her life as the isolated heiress. For the moment, she could afford to throw caution to the wind—no one was expecting her to sit through a boring meeting, make a decision or spend more money. As long as she was back in New Orleans by Sunday night... "You will take me home tomorrow?" In a flash, Lucien held up two fingers. "Scout's honor." Bastian snorted. "He was never a scout." "Shut up, bro." Lucien chuckled. "We're making progress." She didn't owe these men anything, no commitment, nothing. Still, something nagged her thoughts. "Why did you bring me here?" Lucien glanced at his brother, their gazes locking. "You asked for an island.” He spread his hands outward. “I wanted you to see ours." Her tension leached away. Finally, someone who didn't want anything from her. Tingles spread across her skin, settling lower between her thighs. "Oh, I want to see yours, all right." Letting her knees fall open, she had no trouble asking, "May I have you both?"

Chapter Six Lucien eased onto the mattress, brushing dried strands of hair out of her face. "Are you sure?" Bastian sat on the other side, his hand claiming her right thigh. "Be certain." Her fingers curled around his and slid them up to the mound of hair covering her cunt. Not to be out-maneuvered, Lucien traced a finger along her jaw line, down her long, graceful neck, across her collar-bone to one of the luscious ripe breasts. He cupped it gently through the fabric of the T-shirt, his fingers latching onto the peaked nipple, pinching gently. Her back arched, pressing her breast more firmly into his palm. "Umm. That was nice." With quick moves, she pulled her shirt up and over her head. Bastian cupped her sex, a long, thick finger sliding into her pussy. Catherine writhed, her pale body glowing in the fading light. Lucien's dick swelled, his groin tightening, calling to his inner cat. His incisors lengthened, his claws shifted beneath his skin. The hand holding her breast tightened. "Don't," Bastian warned. "No, please." She gripped his hand. "Squeeze tighter." Lucien closed his eyes and inhaled a long, calming breath, letting it out slowly, forcing the panther inside to abate, to give him time to woo the woman. He leaned into her, his face pressing against her cheek, sliding along her smooth lines, his coarse cat tongue lapping at the pulse beating wildly in her throat. "Wow," she whispered. "How'd you do that?" "Baby, we've only just begun," Luc breathed into her ear. Bastian laid his cheek against her belly and brushed downward, feeling a deep purr pressing against his chest. Dark hairs sprang from the tops of his hands. "Bastian." Lucien reminded. With a quick glance up at Catherine's closed eyes, Bastian nodded to his brother. Agreement passing between them. Together they'd pleasure the woman without going furry on her. Taking one of Catherine's breasts into his mouth, Lucien laved it, twirling his tongue around and around the pretty tip.

"Oh, my," she gasped. "Your tongue is so coarse and it's amazingly long." Bastian laughed and moved down her body, slipping between her legs, his hands parting her folds. With a smile, Lucien kissed her. "If you liked my tongue on your breast, wait until you get a taste of my brother's—" Catherine's back arched off the bed, her eyes popping open, her fingernails digging into Lucien's arm. "Oh, sweet tea." When Bastian started to come up, Catherine's knees clamped around his ears. "For the love of Mike, don't stop!" Lucien laughed, his tongue taking charge of the tightly pointed nipples. Her hand reached out, grabbing his shorts. "I want to see you, touch you. Feel your body." He shucked his shorts and stood beside the bed, his cock jutting out, thick, engorged and pulsing with need. "Please." Catherine gasped as Bastian thrust his long tongue up inside her. She lay back against the pillow, panting. Then she turned to Lucien, her eyes glazed, her lips moist. "Let me taste you, like he's tasting me." Her hand circled his cock, tugging not so gently, dragging him closer. He straddled her head, a knee on either side. Catherine's fingers circled his dick, sliding down its length to cup his balls, urging him downward until his member skimmed across her lips. Oh sweetness. Guilt reared its ugly head into Lucien's consciousness. "I didn't bring you here to do this." "Just do it," she hissed. "There are things you don't know about us," he persisted. "I don't need to know any more than what I do. You brought me here, at least give me a good fuck for the trouble." She ran her tongue across his length. "Please." Unable to hold back, Lucien shoved his guilt and his secrets out of his mind and plunged his cock into her warm, wet mouth. Molten hot sensations spread throughout his body, tempting his inner panther to explode.

Bastian ached with the need to drive his cock deep inside her pussy. His tongue thrust again and again, filling her, swirling around her musky juices, lapping at the moisture, sucking it into his mouth. With his brother fucking her mouth, the urge to do the same ate at Bastian. The need to pleasure her first kept him from ramming into her channel. His focus shifted from licking her come to teasing that little nubbin packed with highly sensitive nerve endings, teasing it to full, plump ripeness. At first, he tongued her clit in slow, thick circles. Swirling in long languid strokes, increasing the speed and intensity incrementally, until he was flicking the tip in tight taps. She moaned, her ass rising off the bed, pressing her sweetness into his mouth. Sucking at the folds, he slid three fingers into her cunt, and his pinky into her anus. For a moment she suspended in air, her body stiff, unmoving, then she shivered all over, her body pulsing with her release. Bastian backed away, rose up on his knees and lifted her bottom, shoving a pillow beneath. She planted her heels in the mattress and held Lucien's hips away. Pulling his cock from her mouth, she gasped, "Protection?" Diving for the nightstand, Bastian fumbled through Lucien's things until he found a small foil package, ripped it open with his teeth and eased the condom over his straining member. "Now!" Catherine muttered. Lucien's pulled back, then thrust between her lips. Bastian held her hips, rested his cock at her opening and then drove home. A gasp sounded and she stiffened beneath his hands. For a moment, Bastian thought he'd hurt her, her channel was so tight against his dick. Then she wrapped her legs around his waist and tightened her thighs, drawing him deeper. Bastian knew he was big, and had to be hurting her, so he eased in a little at a time until he could no longer restrain himself. He thrust hard and true, until his balls slapped against her ass. Once fully inside, he gripped her hips, holding her steady for one long, agonizing moment. Then he pounded in and out of her, again and again, matching his brother's rhythm. The fingers of one of her hands dug into his hip, pulling him closer while the other hand cupped his brother's balls.

It started as a tingling awareness then powered through him like a mega bolt of lightning, his orgasm blasting him over the edge of reason. He threw back his head and roared the call of a panther, his back arching, his claws flexing and digging into her ass. Lucien hit his peak at the same time, his own body growing still, his shoulders tense, his cock buried deep in Catherine's mouth. Then he pulled free, his come shooting out across the bed. He dropped down to one side of Catherine, nuzzling her neck. "By far, the best I've ever experienced." Bastian punched him and rolled to Catherine's other side. "Bastard. Have some couth. You're not supposed to compare women." He leaned up on an elbow, staring down at the beautiful woman he'd just fucked so thoroughly, wondering how he'd ever let her leave. Catherine stretched between them, one hand stroking Bastian's still-throbbing cock, the other running over Lucien's chest. "That was best I've ever had. Does that make me uncouth?" Bastian chuckled, a slow smile spreading across his face. He wished they could lie like this forever. His smile faded. How would she feel if she knew the truth of why they'd brought her here? "Catherine, you should know—" Loud banging echoed through the cabin. In an instant, Lucien and Bastian sprang to their feet. When Catherine rose, Bastian pressed a hand to her shoulder. "Stay here," he said. He nodded to his brother, grabbed his shorts and dragged them up his legs even as he strode through the house to the front door. A quick glance out the window sent a cold shiver of dread across his skin. Lucien's gaze captured his. "We can't let them know she's here." Bastian nodded, his fists clenched. Taking a deep breath, Lucien flung open the door and strode out on the porch. Pirogues filled with panthers surrounded the tiny island. Some chose to appear in their human form, others leapt out on nearby hummocks on all fours, sleek and black, their gold eyes glowing in the darkness. “Did we miss the call for a meeting?” Lucien asked. The cat closest to the cabin leapt up on the dock, his body immediately changing from feline to human in the time it took to close the distance between the pirogue and Lucien. “Is it true?”

A trickle of apprehension nudged at Lucien‟s senses. “Is what true?” Jean-Paul, the leader of the Panthère clan, stood before him—naked, strong and proud. “The sale went through?” He spoke loud enough for the others to hear. Silence reigned on the bayou, without even the sound of the frogs and insects to muffle a response. Lucien nodded his heartbeat kicking up a notch. “It did.” A rumble of anger echoed against the canopy of trees. Jean-Paul stepped closer to Lucien, his eyes narrowing. “Is it also true you brought her here?” he asked. His tone was threatening and low enough only Lucien and Bastian could hear. Bastian stepped closer to Lucien, his fists clenching. No time for anger to make things worse. Lucien held out a hand to his brother, before addressing their leader. “Who are you talking about?” Jean-Paul‟s long feline incisors jutted out and he snarled. “Don‟t fuck with me, Lucien. We‟ve been friends all our lives. Don‟t change that now. You know damn well, I‟m speaking of Catherine Boudreaux. Her disappearance is all over the news.” Lucien‟s shoulders pushed back and he stared straight into Jean-Paul‟s eyes. “She‟s here.” A muscle in Jean-Paul‟s jaw flickered. “You brought her here, knowing how dangerous that act was. If she exposes us, we will be hunted to extinction.” “She won‟t expose us.” Lucien assured Jean-Paul, though he didn‟t know what Catherine would do if she knew who, or what, occupied Bayou Panthère. Now wasn‟t the time to show any weakness. Jean-Paul‟s chin lifted and he stared down his nose at Lucien. “I will speak with her.” “She doesn‟t know anything.” Bastian's chest heaved. “Leave her alone.” The leader snarled and lashed out with a clawed hand, coming within inches of Bastian‟s face. Bastian never flinched. Lucien stepped toward Jean-Paul. “Let us handle this.” “Our lives and our homes depend on the outcome.” Jean-Paul snarled. “You think we don‟t know this?” Lucien had great respect for the leader of their clan. He

wouldn't do anything to disrespect him, but he wouldn't let the leader hurt Catherine. Bastian stepped up to Jean-Paul, toe-to-toe, challenging their leader. "She doesn't know about us or why we brought her here. We haven't had the opportunity to tell her why, to reason with her and convince her to leave the bayou as it is. Give us time." Jean-Paul snarled. "We don't have time. Move aside and let me speak with the woman." Lucien and Bastian blocked the doorway, arms crossed over their chests. "Move aside," a cold, feminine voice said from over Bastian's shoulder. Lucien and Bastian parted, allowing Catherine to step through. Every gaze turned to take in the woman dressed in a long T-shirt, her long, wavy blond hair hanging down around her shoulders, her face whitening as she took in the gathering of man and beast. To Bastian she looked like a waif, a woman-child about to be devoured by the monsters. Until he caught her expression. Her blue eyes narrowed and she refused to look Lucien or Bastian in the eye. "What is it you wish to discuss?" Her voice shook slightly, her gaze darting to the panthers on the hummocks closest to the cabin. "I am Jean-Paul, leader of the Panthère clan. We want to know your plans for Bayou Panthère." Jean-Paul's shoulders straightened, his fists clenching at his sides, a muscle twitching in his jaw. "The inhabitants have a right to know the future of their home." "I take it these are some of the inhabitants?" She swept out a hand, encompassing the gathering. The leader of the clan nodded. "We are but a few of the creatures whose lives depend on this bayou." "What do you fear from this sale?" Jean-Paul's brows narrowed. "We fear nothing. We only wish to preserve the delicate balance of the ecosystem." "And our way of life." Bastian finished, knowing he revealed more than he should. He faced Catherine. "We need the autonomy the bayou allows to live free of prying eyes and fearminded humans." Catherine's eyes rounded, her mouth opening on a tiny gasp. "You were the panther that leaped onto the alligator."

Bastian nodded. Her chest rose and fell on a deep, shuddering breath. "To save the swamp was the real reason why you brought me here?" Her gaze moved to Lucien, eyes narrowing even more as she snorted softly. "Like everyone else...you want something from me." Lucien's shoulders straightened. "I thought that if you could see the bayou, you'd understand all we stand to lose." "I understand, all right." Her eyes glistened, even as her jaw tightened. "And the rest?" Swallowing hard, she stared straight into Bastian's eyes. "Was that all part of the plan to convince me not to destroy your home?" Bastian touched her arm. "No. What we shared had nothing to do with preserving our home." "Too bad I don't believe you." She raised her chin and stared out at the inhabitants. "The fate of the bayou is out of my hands. The board of directors will determine what will happen next." Jean-Paul's face tightened. "You can speak to them." She stared into the leader's eyes."If I had sufficient reason." "We could hold you hostage and demand a trade—your life for our bayou." Jean-Paul stepped forward. "You'd have every law enforcement organization out here, exposing your secrets." She shook her head. "Besides, these two already have. What you don't understand is that whether I live or die, the bayou's destiny is the board of director's decision. I am only a single vote." Jean-Paul leaped forward, roaring, his incisors flashing. Bastian and Lucien stepped between their leader and Catherine. "If you want her..." Bastian's fists bunched, dark hairs springing out of his skin, teetering on the brink of transformation. "—you'll have to go through me first." Lucien let out a low, guttural growl. "And me." Jean-Paul's eyes narrowed, a deep rumble vibrating the air around him. "We are not through yet." "You are done here." Bastian raised his voice. "Go. Leave this woman alone." For a long moment, silence reigned in the bayou. Then Jean-Paul backed a step. "Know this, human," he said. "You tell your board that we will not stand by and let our homes be taken."

Catherine did not respond. Bastian could smell her fear. He hated that she'd been exposed to the full brunt of the Panthère's anger. But what was done, was done. He couldn't shield her from words. "Come on, folks, the party's over." Jean-Paul waved a hand and the Panthère clan climbed into their pirogues and disappeared into the darkness. As the last pirogue vanished, Bastian cringed, knowing Catherine wasn't done with them. He wished they had told her about the situation before they'd made love to her. Now, it was too late. Catherine silently turned and reentered the cabin, her footsteps soft on the wooden floor. Bastian pushed through the screen door into the cabin. Lucien followed close behind. Time to face the music.

Chapter Seven Catherine stood in the center of the living room with her back to them, trying to hold it together while she shook so badly inside she feared she‟d fall apart. When the screen door snapped shut behind her, she forced words past her constricted vocal chords. "What the hell are you two anyway?" She faced them, her feet spread wide, her hands on her hips, her anger keeping the fear at bay. "We're what some would call were-cats," Lucien offered. "We prefer Panthère." Bastian stepped forward. "We have the ability to shift into the shape of black panthers." Heaviness settled in her chest and she shook her head. "Until today, I never knew such a creature existed." "Our kind have lived in these bayous for centuries." "And I had to go and purchase it." She snorted. All of the dishonesty she'd lived through, the people pulling at her, wanting something from her. "You lied to me." She congratulated herself inwardly for not letting her voice crack. Lucien closed the distance, laying his hands on her shoulders. "No, we didn't. We just hadn't gotten around to telling you the rest of the story." "As far as I could tell, you never would have if your little clan of Panthères hadn't shown up." She jerked away and faced them both, anger bubbling up, spilling over. "Lying by omission is still lying. And the sex was all part of the plan, wasn't it?" "No." Bastian stepped forward and gripped her arms. "We'd sworn off, promising not to touch you, unless you asked us to." She laughed, the sound completely without mirth, her faith in men crumbling even further. "Wow, am I pathetic, or what? I was naive enough to believe you wanted me for me." She shook her head. "And I know better. You're like everyone else, you only wanted something from me." "No, Catherine, we didn't intend making love to you, but you're so damned desirable." Bastian's hands tightened on her arms, his gaze panning her length. "I've wanted you from the moment Lucien brought you into this cabin." With all her heart, she wanted to believe him. She wanted to believe that someone could love her without her billions.

"Neither of us could help making love to you." Lucien reached out and cupped her face with his hand. "You're a remarkable woman. When you tried to escape, I was amazed at your daring." "And your courage to stand up to Jean-Paul and the entire Panthère clan, when you had never seen a shifter before now," Bastian added with a gentle smile. "Impressive. Most women would have run screaming." "You should have let the alligator have me." Tears slipped down Catherine's cheeks. "But you couldn't. Not until I gave you back your precious swamp." "It wasn't like that," Lucien denied. "You won‟t convince her." Bastian hands dropped away, his face stone cold. "We blew it. We should have told her up front." Catherine nodded. "Yeah, before you even brought me to Bayou Panthère." Against a tight throat, she drew in a deep, shuddering breath and let it out slowly. "Take me home." "But—" Lucien started. Bastian held up a hand. "If you don't, I will. The lady deserves that much." He ducked into his bedroom, leaving Catherine alone with Lucien. Lucien inhaled deeply, raised his face to the ceiling and let out a loud cat-like yowl, his incisor teeth extending. Catherine shivered at the intensity of the call, strangely unafraid. When he opened his eyes and looked at Catherine, Lucien's pupils were dilated as if exposed to bright sunlight, even though the room was dark. "I didn't mean to hurt you," he said, his voice raspy. "What's done is done." Bastian returned with a pair of drawstring shorts for Catherine and shirts for himself and Lucien. "Get on your shoes, we're making a trip into New Orleans." Lucien stared at Catherine, long and hard. "We'd like you to stay just one more night." The expression on Lucien's face appeared so sincere Catherine was almost fooled. Her heart cried out yes. She forced herself to look away. "I want to go home." She slipped into the bathroom, pulled her damp panties from the towel rack and slipped them over her thighs, wincing at the scrapes, recalling how gently the two men had applied ointment, then made love to her as if she were special. She'd wanted to believe them so much, she'd let them.

What a fool she'd been. She pulled up the shorts over her legs and cinched the drawstring tight, welcoming the pain that was no match for the ache in her heart. What would having the affection of these two men be like without having the bayou's welfare hanging in the balance? Catherine would never know. She exited the bathroom, ready for the long trip home. Back to her cold, lonely life, surrounded by people who cared only for her money. Bastian led the way to the pirogue, climbing in first then reaching out to take Catherine's hand. Though she didn't want to, she took it and stepped down into the boat. His arms circled her waist as the boat tipped. "For what it's worth, I'm glad we saved you from the alligator. You're a beautiful, desirable and loveable woman." He pulled her close and kissed her, taking her lips like a gladiator. Coarse, but gentle, refusing to let her pull back. Not that she did. Catherine hated herself for returning his kiss. She wished everything had turned out so differently. Given time, she could learn to appreciate the isolation of the bayou, the lack of people tugging at her all the time. When she finally broke away, she glanced up into his eyes, her heart hardening from the pain they'd inflicted. "Thanks for a good fuck. Consider it payment in full for not turning you two over to the police." Lucien dropped into the boat behind Catherine and sat, pulling Catherine into his lap. She wiggled, trying to rise, but his hands held her as effectively as iron shackles. "James didn't understand you like Bastian and I did. If you ever want to come back, our cabin is open. The island could be your refuge, with the two of us as bonuses...or not. Whatever is your preference." Then he kissed her, his hands digging into her hair, drawing her closer as his tongue slipped past her teeth. When he ended the kiss, Catherine had little breath or backbone left to argue. "You two are very convincing. You should add acting to your job descriptions." She moved to the center of the pirogue and sat cross-legged, avoiding further eye-contact with the two Panthère's, afraid if she glanced into those golden eyes, their voodoo magic would sweep her away yet again. The rest of the trip back to New Orleans was spent in silence with way too much time to think. They passed through the bayou, the insects, frogs and night creatures singing a course of

loneliness and seduction. The dark beauty seeped into her soul, weaving through the air, twisting and turning around Catherine's consciousness, liked thrumming drums pulsing to the beat of her heart. She glanced at the bottom of the boat, certain they'd planted yet another gris gris pouch or some other voodoo hex nearby. The closer they drew to the edge of the bayou, the less she wanted to leave. How could she be lured by the same two men who'd taken her captive to further their cause? Soon darkness of the bayous passed. Once on pavement, the lonely country road gave way to the glaring illumination of the city. Once New Orleans had been a joy to Catherine. Now the lights only meant she'd be leaving Lucien and Bastian behind and facing more hassles with her grandfather's fortune, surrounded by people, pushing and pulling. Trusting no one—loving no one. At the gate to her mansion, she stepped out to show her face to the cameras, wondering if the security guards would recognize her, she was such a mess in borrowed clothing and shoeless. So different from the debutante the media expected. As the heavy gates swung open, a swarm of police cars, with lights blazing and unmarked vehicles converged on the Chevalier brothers' SUV. Catherine's heart raced, concern for her escorts further pushing aside her anger. She stepped between the police and the Chevalier's SUV. "It's okay. I'm not hurt." The police ignored her, a man with a bullhorn calling out. "Step out of the vehicle with your hands up." Lucien and Bastian climbed out, hands raised high, both glancing her way. The anger Catherine had felt over being lied to only slightly swelled in her chest. Going to jail for holding her hostage would serve them right. As quickly as the emotion grew, the anger receded. They'd done what they had to do to protect their clan, their way of life, the bayou. Given that they were shifters—she shook her head at how easily she'd accepted the truth of their being—going to jail would be very difficult, like caging wild animals. Empathy dried her mouth and Catherine moved between them and hooked her arms around their upraised elbows. "If you're going to shoot, then shoot me first." "You don't have to do this," Lucien whispered. "We deserve to have our butts hauled to jail after what we did."

"Speak for yourself, bro. All I did was love the lady," Bastian quipped, a slight smile twitching at his lips. "And I'd do it again in a heartbeat." "Shut up," Catherine muttered just loud enough for the Chevaliers to hear, "or I'll have them throw both of you in jail." "Are you changing your opinion of us?" Lucien glanced her way, his brows raised. "No." She marched them forward. "Gentlemen, I'm sure there's some mistake. I could swear I left word that I'd be out of town for the weekend. I suppose my assistant didn't get the memo." Georgia Boyette stepped forward, her bright green eyes wide and worried. "Oh, Catherine, I've been out of my mind worried about you. When you didn't come home from the benefit last night..." The poor woman wrung her hands. "I called the police immediately. When they found your limo abandoned in a parking lot, we could only suspect the worst." Catherine released the men and patted her assistant's arm. "Go home, Georgia. You look like you haven't slept in days. I'm fine and can handle things from here." "But—" "No buts." Catherine planted her hands on her hips. "You can all go home. There's been a misunderstanding, nothing more." The chief of police stepped forward. "Ms. Boudreaux, how can we be certain these men aren't holding you under duress?" Her lips quirked. "Pat them down. I assure you, they aren't packing." Once the police were assured the brothers weren't holding her under duress, they backed away, refusing to leave until the Chevaliers left. "Go, before they decide you are a threat." Catherine stood apart from Lucien and Bastian. "Catherine—" Lucien moved toward her. She held up her hands. "Just go." Lucien's shoulders sagged and he climbed into the SUV. Bastian stared at her for a long moment. "You know where to find us if you need anything. You will be welcomed." "Even if the board starts drilling?" She snorted and shook her head. "I doubt it." "No matter what." With that parting phrase, Bastian got into the vehicle and they drove away.

As if a great weight settled onto her chest, Catherine struggled to breathe as she entered her house, the cold tile against her bare feet a reminder of life as an heiress. For one beautiful night as a captive in the bayou, she'd tasted freedom.

Chapter Eight Catherine sat in the wooden seat of the narrow pirogue, a smile curling her lips as she thought back over the past two weeks. Since her encounter with the Panthères, she'd been walking in a daze, unable to concentrate and not really caring. She'd taken two weeks leave to rest and recuperate, but the two weeks hadn't been enough. The bayou called to her, the thrumming of drums disturbing her sleep every night. Her first day back at corporate headquarters and she sat daydreaming about two handsome men in the bayou, not paying attention to the business at hand. "What do you think, Catherine?" George Tindall had prompted her. Catherine's head had jerked up and she'd stared around the long, mahogany conference table at the men and women who constituted her board of directors. "I'm sorry." She'd grimaced. "What did you say?" "Please, Catherine, try to pay attention. Your grandfather never daydreamed." George shook his head, his lips pinched together. "I said we could have drilling rigs out in the swamp within the month." Catherine had sat up straighter, all attention on the meeting. "Drilling?" "That's right. We've already collected bids from the best companies. They're just waiting to get the go-ahead." Her heart had skipped several beats, a knot forming in her gut. "What if I don't want the drilling in the bayou?" "How else are we supposed to extract the oil?" "What if we leave the oil there and let the bayou remain natural?" She leaned forward. "Many creatures in that bayou depend on its delicate ecosystem." The boardroom had fallen silent. Catherine faced the corporate attorney. "Do I have the right to decide what to do with that bayou I purchased with my inheritance?" "Catherine, you know your grandfather instituted this board of directors to help with the big decisions," George cut in. "We should let the board decide." The lawyer tugged at his necktie, shooting a nervous glance around the table. "Well, actually, Miss Boudreaux has the power to decide..."

Excitement thrumming in her veins, Catherine slapped a palm on the table. "I've decided. Draw up the paperwork to make Bayou Panthère a wildlife refuge." She pushed back her chair and stood, the need to get out in the fresh air so strong, she couldn't wait another moment. "Where are you going? This meeting isn't over," Mr. Tindall called out. "Carry on without me." Catherine gathered her purse, her mind already on the way out of New Orleans. "I'm taking some time off." "How long will you be gone?" George asked. "As long as necessary," she'd said. Now she sat in a pirogue, Pascal, her guide, paddling the craft through the bayou, getting closer and closer to the cabin where the Chevalier brothers lived. "Lucien and Bastian have been pretty grumpy. I can take you back now, if you've changed your mind." "I can handle grumpy." She smiled, pushing her own insecurities to the side. Bastian had said anytime she wanted. She wanted now. As the cabin came into view, butterflies swarmed her belly. "Stop." Pascal dug the paddle into the water, bringing the pirogue to a halt. "We going back?" "I'm not. You are." Bastian had said she smelled better out of her city clothing. A thrill of lust skittered through her body. She pulled her blouse over her head, dropping it into the bottom of the boat. Then she stood, stripping off her shorts, leaving only her panties and bra. "Uh..." Pascal stared, his eyes wide. "Ain't safe to swim in the bayou, what with alligators and all." A shiver of apprehension slithered across her skin. She squared her shoulders, shooting a glance around the lagoon. "I'll be fine." Then she unclipped her bra and peeled out of her underwear. "Thanks for the ride." Then she dove into the water and swam with firm, swift strokes toward the cabin, praying she was right and this part of the bayou was alligator free. The more she thought about alligators, the faster she pushed through the water until she arrived at the cabin porch, winded and anxious. She climbed up a ladder on the corner and brushed the water from her body. Pots and pans clattered in the kitchen and angry voices rose above the noise. For the first time since she'd left New Orleans, her idea of presenting herself to the two

men seemed stupid. What if they really didn't want her there? What if they had only made love to her to get her to stop the drilling in the bayou? Inside a snarling growl ripped the air, answered by a roar. The men weren't happy. A slow smile spread across Catherine's face. Only one way to find out if she was the cause of their unhappiness. She marched across the porch, through the screen door and into the kitchen, stopping only when she had their full attention. They stood at the sink, Bastian with a dishtowel in his hand, Lucien wielding a pot. Both naked and unabashed. Lucien's brows rose. "Catherine?" Bastian's lowered. "Did you come to gloat?" "You told me I could come anytime. I chose now." Catherine planted her fists on her hips, pushing out her breasts. Bastian draped the towel over a cabinet doorknob. "Why are you really here?" His cock twitched, the member already swelling. "If you want a quick fuck, go somewhere else. I'm not into servicing lonely debutantes." "Shut up, bro. I for one am glad she's here." Lucien grinned, his gaze panning her body. "And she's never looked better." More certain than ever she'd made the right choice, Catherine stepped forward. "I just want to know, did you make love to me because of me, or because of the bayou?" "Babe, I made love to you because I wanted you." Lucien took her hands in his and smiled down at her. "Nothing about the bayou sale even entered my mind." She leaned up on her toes and kissed his lips. "Thank you." "You're beautiful." He kissed her then turned to his brother. "Same for my brother." "I can speak for myself." Bastian stared across the room, his gaze locking with hers. Catherine's heart flipped at the anger in his golden eyes. Her chin tipped upward. "Then speak." "I only make love to women who want me as much as I want them." He stalked her, his bare feet eating the distance between them. Lucien backed away. "Save some for me, will ya?"

Bastian snarled, his incisors flaring. "Are you here to tease, or will you stay as our world crumbles around us?" She stared up into his eyes, falling into their depths. "I'm staying." "With both of us?" Lucien prompted. Without breaking eye contact with Bastian, Catherine nodded. "I've never felt more at home and complete than when I was here with the two of you. I'll stay...if you'll have me." Lucien let out a whoop, grinning from ear to ear. For a long moment, Bastian's gaze locked with hers, then he crushed her to his chest, his lips claiming hers in a hard, hungry kiss. When he let her up for air, she laughed, the sound breathy. His cock pressed hard against her belly. Her pussy creamed, anticipation burning between her legs. Lucien's nostrils flared and he let out a long, rumbling purr. He slipped behind her, his hands coming between her and Bastian, one sliding low to cup her cunt. "I can smell your sweet perfume. She wants us, brother." "Do you?" She nodded. "Yes." Bastian's fingers grazed her back, sliding low to cup her ass. He lifted her, wrapping her legs around his waist. "We'll have you...now." Catherine sighed as she sank down onto Bastian's cock, Lucien's fingers flicking against her clit. She nuzzled against Bastian's neck, sliding her face along his skin as he'd once done to her. "I don't know what it is, but I can't resist that voodoo you do."

THE END

Alluring Tales: Night Moves November 8, 2011 THAT VOODOO YOU DO Myla Jackson Using Voodoo and passionate persuasion, panther shape-shifting brothers woo an abducted heiress over to their side of the bayou

November 15, 2011 WAVES OF SEDUCTION Cathryn Fox When a mermaid saves a drowning man she unleashes a tidal wave of passion that could destroy November 22, 2011 ENTANGLED IN DARKNESS Vivi Anna Returning home after a tragedy, a woman finds herself entangled in a century's old murder mystery, and caught between two physically and emotionally different men who may have been involved

November 29, 2011 BLACK MAGIC WOMAN Sylvia Day Can a darkly sensual warlock make the switch when his beloved familiar finds her dominant nature awakened by the lure of black magic...?

December 6, 2011 Sasha White HIGHLAND HEAT A Highlander who was trapped for centuries enjoys the carnal freedoms of the modern world when he finds the reincarnation of his soul-mate...and her husband

December 13, 2011 WICKED WEREWOLF NIGHT Lisa Renee Jones A witch after his secrets. A werewolf after her pleasure. December 20, 2011 Delilah Devlin DRAGON’S DESIRE An ancient dragon sends a loyal knight on a quest to find a virgin to ease his curse. Who knew a virgin would be that hard to find? To learn more about the Allure Authors please visit http://www.allureauthors.com/

About the Author Twenty years of livin‟ and lovin‟ on a South Texas ranch raising horses, cattle, goats, ostriches and emus left an indelible impression on Myla Jackson, one she likes to instill in her red-hot stories. Myla pens wildly sexy, fun adventures of all genres including historical westerns, medieval tales, romantic suspense, contemporary romance and paranormal beasties of all shapes and sexy sizes. or spending time with her family. She lives in the tree-covered hills of Northwest Arkansas with her husband of 20+ years and her muses—the human-wanna-be canines—Chewy and Sweetpea.

To learn more about Myla Jackson visit her website at http://www.mylajackson.com. Send an email to [email protected] or join her Yahoo! group to enter in the fun with other readers as well as Myla:[email protected]

Other Titles by Myla Jackson Dirty Tricks: One Up On You Dirty Tricks: Two Can Play That Game Dirty Tricks: Three's A Charm Dirty Tricks: Four Play Sex Ed Honor Bound Duty Bound River Bound Body Snatchers Naked Prey Cat Scratch Fever Sex, Lies & Vampire Hunters

Coming Soon Boots and Chaps