He couldn’t see past the anger, was what Nick was basically saying. Rome knew the drill all too well. Nick’s parents had disappointed him, angered him. That wasn’t something Nick would forget, even in their death. Inhaling deeply, Rome considered how to proceed. He and Nick shared a lot; the depth of their pain was only one of the commonalities.
Although Rome wasn’t angry with his parents, there were secrets they’d kept from him, things he would have liked to have known before they died. He couldn’t bring them back, couldn’t tap into some hereafter phone line and call them up. All he could do was move forward. Some days that was harder than others. Today he was trying to make it as easy as possible.
“It’s time we had some sort of guidelines to live by,” he said finally.
“We’ve got the Etica” was Nick’s response.
The shifter ethics code, traditionally called the Etica, was their Bill of Rights, so to speak. It outlined everything they could and could not do as shifters. The code was mandated by the Assembly, three elders from each tribe equaling a fifteen-member council. The biggest problem was that they lived deep within the Brazilian rain forest in the secluded Gungi. The rules and limitations applied to forest living and were not really conducive to the mainstream life Rome and the other faction leaders were trying to achieve.
“I think we need more.”
“So you want to pick up where our parents left off? Start trying to build some sort of government for us? We’re not like them, Rome! We’re not human!”
Nick’s anger was apparent, and on another day Rome might have shared it with him. But today he was trying to stay focused, to not let his tumultuous emotions rule over good judgment. If the Rogues were planning something, only a cool head was going to keep them alive. A well-thought-out and perfectly executed plan would bring them the solidarity they desired. That was Rome’s way, calm, cool, and overly collected. He could be dangerous, and crossing him usually was, but it was the smooth and precise way he handled his problems that earned him the title of the Lethal Litigator.
He didn’t like the idea of rebel shifters any more than Nick did, but he didn’t want a lot of bloodshed on their hands; that would only lead to what they desperately didn’t want—for the shifters to be exposed and accused of being dangerous killers, animals that didn’t deserve to walk among humans.
“Keep your voice down, the office isn’t as well guarded as our homes. I feel your pain, Nick. You know I do. But we’re not in the forest, we need to use our heads and not just our ability to fight and kill. Capturing these shifters is the better option. Find out what they’re thinking, if there’s some room for negotiation.”
“How do you negotiate with someone who wants to take charge? They want to rule, Rome. They think they’re the dominant species on earth. Can we really afford to invite them to lunch and try to talk this out?” Nick paused, then added, “Let’s not forget they’re responsible for your parents’ deaths.”
That was a deadly card to play. And Nick knew it. There was nothing—absolutely nothing—Rome wanted more than to find the Rogue who’d killed his parents.
Vance and Loren Reynolds had been brutally murdered, Rome suspected as a result of what they were trying to do among the shifters. Some of their old paperwork he’d found—notes from meetings with Elders and other Faction Leaders—led him to believe that his parents and their ideas for a democracy among the shifters were rubbing a few people the wrong way. He still had no real leads on their killers, just ideas. And he was still as pissed off today as he’d been twenty-five years ago when the murders had occurred in the bedroom his parents shared.
He’d remained hidden in a closet, prohibited from trying to save his parents’ lives. A steady flow of rage simmered just beneath the surface of his cool lawyer exterior each and every day of his life. He would avenge his parents’ killers—there was no doubt in his mind. That would be one time, one instance when he’d put aside the moral code he’d learned as a human, the justice he’d studied in law school, and become a hunter, the killer jaguars were perceived to be.
Revenge was a living and breathing source within Rome, but he couldn’t let that dictate his every action.
“You know that’s not what I’m suggesting. And make no mistake about it, when I find the Rogue responsible for the murder of my parents, his death will be slow and very painful. But that’s my personal battle. That blood will be on my hands alone.”
Nick shook his head. “It’s ours,” he replied. “You know we’re in this together.”
Rome nodded but didn’t speak.
More death was coming, just as his gut instinct had warned. This battle of theirs was only beginning.
And … Wait. He inhaled deeply. Exhaled with a little more shakiness than he wanted to admit. Something else was coming, something or someone …
There was a knock at the door and before he’d uttered a word, before Nick had made it across the room to open it, Rome knew exactly who it was.
Chapter 2
Rome was hard instantly, need punching at him from every direction.
“Excuse me,” she said the moment the door opened. “I have some checks that need a signature and your assistant wasn’t at her desk.”
Behind his desk Rome stiffened, his tongue rolling slowly over teeth that were suddenly too sharp to be human. His nostrils flared as he inhaled and let her scent permeate throughout his system.
It was her.
Inside his cat roared, leaping at the surface as if it knew her, too. It had been two years since he’d seen her. He’d thought about her, too much to even contemplate at this moment. Thought about her, dreamed about her, fantasized about her. But he had no idea who she was or where she’d gone that night.
Now she was here.
At his law firm, walking across the floor of his office heading in his direction. He watched her walk, long legs bringing her closer, curvy hips swaying with the motion. Her breasts were round, full, making his palms itch to touch them. The dress she wore wrapped around her body, tying at the side with some kind of sash, the material caressing each of her curves like a smooth jazz melody. Her hair, black mixed with a tawny brown color, was cut in a short spiky style that accented the exotic features of her face—the face that had haunted him for so long. Complexion the color of honey, high cheekbones, and full lips. Eyes the color of autumn leaves.
And she was handing him a stack of checks from his firm.
“You work here?” he asked and felt the amazing stupidity at the question. “When were you hired?” he rephrased.
She stopped abruptly just a foot or so away from his desk. Their gazes met, held. Then she cleared her throat.
“I was hired two weeks ago by Mr. Mathison. I work in accounting. If you could sign these I’ll get out of your way,” she said, casting a quick glance at Nick, who was staring at Rome.
Two weeks and he’d just caught her scent. Accounting was on the fifth floor, Rome’s office was on the seventh. Still, she’d been this close to him for fourteen days and he hadn’t known.
Why should he? She was nobody special, just a woman he’d helped out a long time ago. There shouldn’t have been any warning signs that she was back in his life, or close to it. No announcement should have been made. He employed more than a hundred people, women included. This one wasn’t any different.
She’d moved closer to the desk by now, extending her arm and holding the checks out to him. He reached for them, purposely let his fingers brush against hers, and gasped at the surge of heat that quickly spread from his arm through his body. Heat and lust so thick he could barely swallow, so potent his balls tightened with the thought of release. Against his zipper his thick length throbbed, aching for entrance inside her.
The arm she’d been extending quickly retreated, going first behind her back then down to her side in a motion that was meant to show control. Yet it was barely restrained control, Rome could see it in her eyes. There was heat there also, and confusion. With a deep breath he resigned himself to knowing exactly how she felt.
Grabbing a pen from the holder to his left, he began signing the checks. Looking at her was causing all sorts
