Free Bayon/Jean-Baptiste (Bayou Heat) by Alexandra Ivy, Laura Wright Page A

silence, but Keira didn’t need to hear Bayon telling her that he was frustrated as hell by her insistence on retracing her steps. The sharp-edged scent of his temper rolled off his body in fierce waves. Still, he was wise enough keep his opinion to himself, even when they reached the edge of the Wildlands and shifted back to human form.
    They were both dressed in black jeans and black sweatshirts to blend into the night, and both had strapped small firearms to their upper thighs. They could easily kill with their bare hands, even when in their human forms, but they didn’t know how she’d been overpowered by mere humans.
    A little extra firepower seemed a sensible precaution.
    Heading directly north, Keira grimaced as they were forced to skirt around a large bog filled with brown sludge that smelled like rotting eggs.
    Christ, how had the nasty quagmires that had started to form at the edges of the Wildlands over fifty years ago spread so far?
    The realization spurred her to a faster pace. She had no idea if her kidnapping had any connection to the destruction of the marshland, but the sooner she and Bayon could track the bastards down, the sooner they could start beating the answers from them.
    They’d traveled several miles before Bayon at last broke the silence. “Where are we going?”
    “It’s not far.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Trouble keeping up?”
    Despite his lingering frustration, he flashed a wicked grin. “I like the view from behind.”
    Of course he did.
    She shook her head, slowing until they were walking side by side. “Tell me about your orphanage.”
    He looked embarrassed, clearly unused to discussing his generous gift to his mother and the human children.
    “It’s not large. Only six to ten children at a time.” He gave a dismissive shrug. “Most of them need temporary shelter while their parents are in rehab.”
    They ducked beneath the low-hanging branches of cypress. “They’re fortunate to be in the care of your mother.”
    “They are,” he agreed without hesitation. “She’s a very special lady.”
    “True. Of course, she spoiled you shamelessly.”
    He widened his eyes with faux innocence. “Who could blame her?”
    She chuckled, leaping along small islands to cross a wide channel. Once on relatively stable ground, she turned to watch Bayon as he moved with elegant beauty at her side, his gaze constantly searching for hidden enemies.
    “I always assumed you would prefer a woman who was more a Nurturer than a warrior,” she abruptly admitted.
    He turned his head to capture her gaze. “I adore all women, but I always knew my mate would have more spice than sugar.”
    “Really?”
    “Oh yeah.”
    She sniffed at his smug male expression. “And how did you know that?”
    “Because I’d met you.”
    She stumbled over a hidden branch, her heart slamming against her ribs at his simple, absolutely perfect explanation.
    Damn but the cat knew how to make a woman melt.
    “You—”
    His brows lifted as she struggled for words. A once in a lifetime occurrence.
    “What?” he prompted.
    “Astonish me,” she said softly. She lifted her hand to touch his face, only to come to a sudden halt as she realized they’d reached a familiar gate that was now rusted and nearly hidden beneath a tangle of clinging ivy.
    She frowned, studying the thick layer of moss and cow lilies that covered the ground. “There was a path here.”
    Bayon kicked the gate, watching it tumble to the ground. “It looks abandoned.”
    “I want to get closer.”
    He placed a hand on her shoulder, his expression tight with concern. “Let me scout the area first.”
    She leaned forward to nip his bottom lip. “You go left, I’ll go right.”
    He released a rough sigh before pressing a frustrated kiss to her lips. “Stubborn.”
    Yep. She was stubborn as hell. But she was beginning to realize that Bayon was the one man who possessed enough self-confidence to allow her to be powerful, while refusing to