If she wasn’t involved in the theft of his cat, he did not plan to give her trouble. If she was? He would file charges against her. Guaranteed.
Hunkered down among the ferns and shrubs, he watched and waited.
As soon as the lights went out in the house and everyone had gone to sleep for the night, Thompson planned to take a look around the gardens to see if they had any kind of structure that would house a big cat. He’d looked for evidence earlier in the day while Maya had been busy with customers. He’d confirmed that the greenhouse was the same one that the cat had been photographed in, and he’d found evidence of cat hairs on the tile floor. Then he’d followed her to the club and thought how appropriately it was named: the Jungle Cat Fever Club, a place where the sellers of illegal cats could gather and no one would be the wiser.
Now he was watching the front of the house, wishing he had his hunting buddy, Joe, with him so that Joe could watch the back door when he heard it open and shut.
Thompson moved as quietly as he could, keeping to the forest until he could see the back side of the house. He saw a small clearing of land back there—a slate patio and a grassy area. Except for the light slipping through one of the windows of the house and a couple of softly glowing iron lanterns hanging on posts, the area was cloaked in darkness. He saw no one, suspecting that whoever had opened the back door had stayed on the patio. The gardens were too dark to explore without using a flashlight.
He heard no footfalls, either. Men and a woman were talking and laughing inside, so Thompson figured Maya was still in the house.
Trying to get comfortable, Thompson settled down next to a tree, using it for a backrest and wishing everyone would go to sleep so he could investigate the property, then retire to his hotel room for the rest of the night. This was the part he hated about the hunt. The waiting.
He was stiff, hot, hungry, and getting drowsy after two hours of being hunkered down among the shrubs and trees, his thoughts drifting to his wife and adopted kids. He loved what he did—protecting wildlife from human predators—but sometimes he thought he should let someone younger do the job and stay home more with his family.
The back door opened, and he was immediately wide awake. The remaining lights suddenly shut off inside the house, but the pale golden glow from the lanterns outside cast a soft light. He held very still, waiting. The back door was still open, but no one was coming out.
In his peripheral vision, he saw movement and couldn’t help but turn his head. He quickly stifled a cry of distress. A jaguar. A large male jaguar! The big cat sniffed the ground at the entryway to the garden path, then loped toward the back door.
Thompson’s jaw went slack. He wanted to yell, to warn Maya that a jaguar had run into the house—which he couldn’t believe—when another male, more golden in color, ran outside through the same door.
Two. Holy crap. Two male jaguars. Cold sweat dripped from his pores.
No one inside was screaming for dear life, which he couldn’t understand. The back door shut with a clunk, and the jaguar stood outside the house, sniffing the ground and the air, and then taking off down the garden path.
Thompson was having heart palpitations, while thanking God that he was downwind of the jaguar so the big cat didn’t notice him. Thompson couldn’t get his breathing under control. Trying to consider a plausible explanation, all he could think of was Maya saying she was the cat in the photo, that her family of jaguar shifters had taken her picture, then they all had milk to drink, that Wade’s brother had called her Wildcat… and that all added up to? One damned, big jaguar-smuggling ring.
Now the jaguars were loose in the house and in the garden. When he thought humans were in control of the jaguars, that had been different. If the jaguars had escaped their pen and were running loose, that was a much more terrifying prospect.
Thompson was in a hell of a fix. He had no way to get to his truck and his rifle with the tranquilizer darts without the jaguar possibly seeing his movement or hearing him.
Then the cat growled in a low, angry tone. The jaguar must have smelled Thompson or heard his out-of-control heartbeat or seen him move.
Thompson waited, knowing that running would trigger the jaguar to chase him. He was very tempted to run. Jaguars didn’t often attack humans, but Thompson knew never to tempt fate when dealing with predators. No matter what, they weren’t supposed to be running loose in a nursery garden so close to Houston, Texas!
The cat growled again, then again, but the sound was different—lower, angrier.
Thompson stared at the area of the gardens where the growling was coming from.
Two jaguars running free in the gardens? He was a dead man.
David had fallen asleep on the couch, resting against the pillows. Sitting in one of the velour recliners, Maya had nearly drifted off when she heard big cats’ angry cries in the garden.
She was sure that Everett had run into one of the men from the club who was also wearing his jaguar coat. Wade had been sitting in another recliner, but he’d already headed for the door, stripping off his clothes. Even though she was concerned for Everett, she couldn’t draw her eyes away from Wade as he shucked his jeans—no boxers—hot, hot, very firm ass and legs and back. Before she could close her gaping mouth and look away, he shifted.
Everett roared. Huntley was yanking off his clothes to shift. David jerked awake and sat up too quickly, swayed a little, and groaned.
“Does your head still hurt?” she asked, taking hold of his muscular arm and knowing she couldn’t deter him if he wanted to help the others.
He couldn’t go out. Not the way he was feeling. He frowned at her.
“Enough of them are going after him. Stay with me. What if he is just a diversionary force and someone else tries to come in the front way?”
David didn’t object, but he stood slowly and walked toward the kitchen, which had a view of the backyard and gardens. He peered out the window.
Wade was waiting at the back door, Huntley beside him, wearing a beautiful black jaguar coat with barely visible rosettes. He was clawing at the door to get out. When she opened it, Huntley rushed out to protect his brother. In his golden jaguar coat, Wade peered out, breathing in the air, testing it, and attempting to smell any sign of what was happening outside.
“Did you want to go, Wade?” Maya asked. “Or stay here with us?”
David snorted. “Wade’s not leaving you for a second.”
“I can shift and I don’t have any qualms about fighting a male cat if he comes into the house,” Maya said. Not that a female against a male would be an even match. But David could shift if he had to.
“He’s not leaving you behind,” David said, sure of his statement.
It didn’t take long for one of the cats to cry out near the pottery barn. Another responded, then a third.
Her heart thundering, Maya strained to watch for any sign of the cats but she couldn’t see anything because of the vegetation and stone wall surrounding
the gardens.
A few minutes later, Everett poked his spotted orange head through the rose-covered arbor, as if telling her he was all right. Everything was fine now. Since he was still on guard duty, he turned, waving his long spotted tail in his wake, and went back to prowling. Huntley ran through the arbor and straight to the house to tell them what had happened. Once he was inside, Maya took a relieved breath and closed the back door.
Huntley walked behind the couch to where he’d dropped his clothes and grabbed his boxers with his teeth, then headed for the bathroom. Wade shifted and grabbed his jeans. She turned her attention from how well-hung he was to his face. He winked, then headed into her bedroom to change. Not that he’d want to use the bathroom when Huntley was in there, but once he left his scent in her room, all she would think about whenever she was in there was how he had looked.