Текст книги "Only With A Highlander"
Автор книги: Джанет Чапмен
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Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 19 страниц)
Matt finally brought his truck to a sliding halt in the middle of the road and shut off the engine and the lights. He let his eyes adjust to the darkness, reaching on the seat beside him for the package he’
d picked up before leaving Bangor and tucking it in his pocket. He turned up the collar of his suit jacket, opened the door, and finally stepped into the howling storm. The road ran half a mile above the meadow, so with his head lowered and his shoulders hunched against the driving snow, Matt plunged into the woods, ignoring the seven inches of accumulated snow soaking through his dress shoes.
He actually lost his way twice, either from inattention or from unconsciously stalling. But finally, thirty minutes later, Matt stood at the base of the cliff that towered above the meadow, his mind warring with his body as he listened for sounds coming from inside the cave.
Snowball walked up and gently nudged his shoulder, and Matt absently gave him a pat while continuing to watch the narrow entrance. The dark shadow of a large black cat finally appeared, its hackles raised as it emitted a warning growl.
Matt reached in his pocket, pulled out the paper-wrapped packet, and tossed it just a few feet in front of Winter’s pet. With an even more ominous growl, the cat stepped forward, standing with the packet on the ground between them, his lips curled back in a snarl. The cat sneezed and stepped to the side, as if trying to go around the packet, his tail whipping back and forth in agitation.
But in the end, the lure of the catnip was too much for the panther, just as Matt had known it would be. The cat circled the fist-sized packet several times, then lowered his head and rubbed the side of his face over it, pushing it through the snow with a snorted growl that ended with another sneeze.
“I’m as sorry as you are,” Matt whispered when the great beast suddenly pounced on the package, scooping it up in his powerful jaws with a final snarl before bolting into the forest. “Forgive me,”
Matt softly petitioned to the retreating cat as it disappeared into the storm.
He turned and faced the cave again, once again torn between going inside or simply disappearing into the forest behind the leopard. It could be that simple; he could just turn and walk away and never be seen again. Winter might miss him; hell, she might even mourn him, but in the end she would be better off. At least her soul would be intact, which was more than he could say for his own if he entered that cave.
But his decision finally came down to one simple promise, given long before his heart had atrophied, when love had led Matt to an act of desperation, when hope hadn’t been a curse. So he stepped forward as he unbuttoned his snow-covered suit jacket, slipping it off his shoulders and letting it fall to the ground as he quietly walked through the entrance.
The moment he stepped inside, the walls of the cave started pulsing in a warm golden glow that softly lit the interior. He unbuttoned his shirt next, pulled its tails from his pants, and shrugged it off as he stared at the woman sleeping at his feet. He slipped off his shoes, then straightened and unfastened his belt. Her hair was still damp, he noticed, and her cheeks were pink with warmth. She had one hand tucked under her head, the other hand clutching the sleeping bag up to her nose.
Matt dropped his pants and stepped out of them, kicking them out of the way as he continued staring at Winter. He noticed the indentation where the panther had been curled against her back, and felt a perverse anger at seeing evidence that the leopard had likely been sleeping with her for the last two and a half years.
But never again, Matt vowed. The only beast in Winter MacKeage’s bed after tonight would be him.
Finally naked, Matt looked around the interior of the cave, his gaze stopping on the thin wooden stick laying against the softly glowing back wall. He walked over and picked it up, balancing its insubstantial weight on the palm of his hand. He smiled, rolling the smooth wood in his fingers before setting it on a narrow ledge near the ceiling, well out of reach of his fairy princess.
He turned back to Winter, absently scratching the hair on his chest, figuring he’d warmed up enough not to turn her into a block of ice when he crawled in beside her. He walked over and knelt down, slowly unzipped the zipper, worked the material out of her hand, and peeled away the top of the sleeping bag.
Matt sucked in his breath at the sight of her wearing his clothes, his long johns and shirt only amplifying how tiny she was. Beads of sweat broke out on his forehead as something stirred deep in his chest, someplace in the vicinity of his hardened heart.
She was so delicate. So beautiful. So damn innocent.
And his. After tonight, little Miss Prickly MacKeage would belong to him; her heart, her soul, her vivacious spirit would be his completely.
Matt lay open the sleeping bag to make them a double bed, then carefully laid down and gathered her into his arms. He smiled when she murmured something unintelligible and snuggled against him to bury her face in his chest. The moment she awakened, he tilted her head back to bring his mouth down on hers, capturing her gasp of surprise.
He kissed her deeply, holding nothing back, his gut relaxing for the first time in hours. She finally realized whose mouth was ravishing hers and responded with an eagerness that hit Matt square in the chest.
He pulled back to stare down at her, watching her lazy blue eyes gaze back as her warm, welcoming smile reached clear to her flushed cheeks. “You came home,” she whispered. “Or am I dreaming?”
“You’re not dreaming, princess. I’m really here.”
She reached up and touched his untethered hair hanging down to his shoulders. “It’s wavy,” she said, her sleepy smile widening. “You look even more handsome with it down.”
He kissed her again for her compliment, which she seemed to think was an appropriate response for him to make as she slid her fingers through his loose hair and kissed him back.
Once he’d gotten a good taste of her, Matt again lifted his head to look down. “What are ye doing here, Winter?” he asked. “Do yer parents know where you are?”
“No.” She smiled, reaching up and locking her fingers together at the back of his neck. “I’ve run away from home, Mr. Gregor, and this was the only place I wanted to run to.” Her forehead wrinkled with worry. “I hope you don’t think I was being too…ah, too forward.”
“I’m glad,” he whispered, smoothing her wild red curls back from her forehead. “I like finding a fairy princess in my bed.”
She smiled hugely. “A fairy princess?” she repeated. “Is that how you think of me?”
“Aye,” he said, giving her a kiss on her nose. “My beautiful fairy princess.”
“Your brogue is back.”
“I’m regressing again. It seems to be an affliction that appears whenever I hold ye in my arms.”
She moved her hands from behind his head to hold the sides of his face. “I want to make love to you, Matheson Gregor,” she whispered. “I want to feel you inside me, deep where I ache.”
Her words hit like a tidal wave, washing over Matt with a shuddering force that tightened his gut in a knot of desire. He lowered his mouth to kiss her, but she wouldn’t let him, holding him firmly to keep him looking at her.
“I—I haven’t ever been with anyone,” she softly confessed, her forehead again wrinkling with worry. “So I don’t know what to do.”
He turned his head to kiss her palm, then smiled down at her. “I’m thinking ye might start by taking off my clothes.”
She moved her hands from his face to his shoulders with a relieved sigh, obviously pleased he was willing to guide her through their lovemaking. Her eyes widened. “You’re naked,” she said in surprise.
He nodded. “I was referring to my clothes on yer body,” he told her, plucking at her shirt.
“Oh,” she said, wiggling out from under him so she could sit up and unbutton her shirt. She frowned, looking around. “How come it’s so light in here?”
Matt pushed her hands away and finished undoing the buttons, slipping the shirt off her shoulders and down her arms, then quickly reaching for the hem of her long johns top. “Did ye leave the lantern going?” he asked just as he pulled the top up over her head, her answer getting muffled in the material as she raised her arms to help him.
Matt sucked in his breath, quickly capturing her now freed hands and holding them away from her body to fully appreciate her very beautiful, very plump breasts. “My God, you’re lovely,” he whispered, looking up to find her blushing even more beautifully.
He quickly leaned forward, using his body to press her down to the sleeping bag, covering her chest with his own as he captured her gasp in a searing kiss. Matt gathered both her hands in one of his, pinning them over her head so he was free to explore what his eyes had already told him were two wonderful pieces of heaven.
She nearly bit his tongue when his hand closed over her breast, her hips surging up so sharply, Matt groaned and had to quickly pull his hips out of the way. Holy hell, his fairy princess was turning into a package of sensual energy.
But hadn’t he known what she’d be like? Hadn’t he felt Winter’s explosive energy lurking just below the surface for two weeks now, every time he’d kissed her?
Isn’t that exactly why he’d kept running away?
Aye. He had known within seconds of stepping into her gallery that Winter MacKeage was not some shy, delicate flower. The moment he’d locked eyes with her, Matt had seen a passionate woman just waiting for a brave man to cut through her thorny defense. And hadn’t he heard the death knell tinkling when he’d opened her gallery door, of his destiny meeting his fate? If Winter’s paintings had captured his interest, her obvious passion for life had caught him in an even more deadly spell. Just like a damned moth, he could no longer only dance near her flame.
Aye, she was beckoning him, and Matt was done running.
Still pinning her hands over her head for fear he might lose control if he allowed her to touch him, Matt slid his fingers inside the waist of her bottom long johns and slowly moved them down her legs.
She made the task simple, what with her wiggling and writhing and kicking her feet to help him. But once she realized he wasn’t freeing her hands, the little fairy went on the attack by using her mouth.
She kissed whatever part of him she could reach, starting at his jaw and working her way to his neck, then nuzzling his chest when he straightened over her again. Matt immediately retreated back down her body, leaving a trail of kisses from her throat to between her breasts. She arched against him with a sound of frustration, and Matt smiled to himself as he changed course, sliding his lips over one of her firm, plump breasts.
She gasped in pleasure when his mouth closed over her nipple and he gently suckled it to arousal. He became rather entranced with her taste, her heady and sweet aroma surrounding him to the point where she was able to free her hands. Aye, he didn’t discover his mistake until her fingers raked up his back in an action that sent lightning surging through every nerve in his body. And while he was still trying to recover, she somehow managed to wiggle her way directly beneath him and wrap her legs around his hips, the intimate contact startling him back to reality.
When in hell had he lost control, and had the student begun teaching the teacher? Matt reared up to capture her very busy hands again as they headed for his waist, wrestling them back on either side of her head as he let loose a growl that made her go suddenly and completely still. Matt sucked in a calming breath as he stared down at her flushed face and wide-eyed, somewhat dazed expression.
“Am I doing something wrong?” she asked in utter sincerity.
Matt could only close his eyes and drop his chin to his chest, fighting the urge to laugh, knowing damn well she’d take it the wrong way. “Nay,” he said, gaining back just enough control to look at her again. He moved her hands closer to her head, letting his thumbs trace the sides of her face. “But we have reached the point where I need to know if ye understand what’s about to happen, lass. Do ye realize exactly what you’re doing, Winter? That you’re not dreaming, that I really am here, and that I’m about to make ye mine?”
“I—I love you, Matt Gregor,” she said ever so softly. “I want to belong to you.”
He smiled tightly. “I know ye love me, lass, or ye wouldn’t be giving me yer most precious possession. But I’m asking if ye understand all that goes with it? Once you’re mine, Winter, it will be completely and forever. Ye’ll give me not only yer love, but yer trust and loyalty, with my being nothing less than yer husband. If ye can’t give me all that, then say so now. It might very well kill me, but I will walk away and leave ye intact.”
Her dazed expression turned somewhat confused, her flushed face growing pale. “What century are you living in?” she asked in a squeak. “I’m not expecting you to marry me just because we’ve made love.”
“Aye, I realize that,” he said with a solemn nod. “I’m the one expecting nothing less than marriage. But if ye give me your virginity, ye give me all that goes with it.” He leaned down and softly kissed her, then pulled away to look at her again. “Do ye love me that much, Winter? Enough to give me everything?”
Matt was surprised, if not alarmed, when she answered so quickly. “Yes,” she said, her body relaxing in feminine softness as her face glowed with the warmth of her smile. “I love you enough, Matheson Gregor, to give you all I have.”
“You’ll be my wife?” he clarified gutturally. “I’ll have yer trust and loyalty?”
“Yes,” she rasped, her smile disappearing as her legs tightened around him with obvious impatience.
Deep down in his chest, again near the region of his cold, dead heart, Matt felt the tiniest stirring. With a quiet curse aimed at the foibles of fate, he let go of her hands and swept Winter against him, kissing her deeply as he surrendered control.
She met his passion with blossoming desire, her body moving restlessly beneath him as he positioned himself to claim her. With his forearms under her shoulders, Matt gathered her beautiful hair in his fists, holding her mouth still for his tongue’s invasion as he slowly eased his hips forward.
She wouldn’t let him be gentle, wouldn’t let him go slow, untangling her legs to brace herself and lifting her hips to meet his. With his mouth locked firmly on hers, Matt swallowed her sudden cry as he slowly pressed past her maidenhead and seated himself fully inside her. He stilled, intending to allow her to adjust, but Winter mocked his noble intentions by digging her fingers into his shoulders and throwing her head back with a moan of pleasure as she arched upward, taking him even deeper.
“Yes,” she cried when he slowly retreated, surged forward, then did it again. She tightened around him as tiny droplets of dew broke on her forehead and her body dampened with passion.
Matt could do nothing more than marvel at Winter’s response as she swept him closer toward her beautiful flame of promising bliss. The air around them charged with the energy of a thousand torches, the golden walls of his den pulsing to the rhythm of his pounding heart. She finally moved beyond the timeless void and into the abyss, and Matt shouted his wonder as the explosion of her passion wracked his body in surging waves, pulling him with her into the powerful storm of swirling colors.
That quickly, that irrevocably, it was over but for the lingering sensation of her body clenching around him. Matt lowered his weight to lie beside her, pulling her with him so that he remained inside and wouldn’t miss even one of her waning spasms. He brushed her hair off her flushed face and kissed her closed eyes and the side of her smiling mouth as she sucked in calming, billowing breaths.
“Mmmm,” she hummed, lifting her lazy blue eyes to him. “That was…wonderful,” she said on a winded whisper. She patted his sweaty shoulder, leaving her hand there and closing her eyes again.
“Everything I imagined it would be.”
Matt propped his head up on one hand, keeping his other hand stroking her hair. “So ye’ve imagined making love, have ye? In general, or with me?”
She cracked one eye at him, her satisfied smile widening as she patted his shoulder again. “If I’
d imagined it with men in general, my curiosity would have gotten the better of me long before now.”
He kissed her sweet mouth for giving the right answer, then untangled his hand from her hair and trailed it down her body, closing it over her lovely backside and carefully withdrawing from her before tucking her up beside him. “So are ye going to tell me why you’ve run away from home?”
“No,” she said, pulling on his shoulder to give him a kiss, then continuing to tug until he was sprawled on top of her again. “Later. Right now I want to feel you inside me again.”
Matt immediately hardened to stone and reared up in surprise. “You can’t,” he growled. “It’s too soon.”
“For you or for me?” she asked with a laugh, the musical sound echoing off the walls of the cave.
He felt heat creeping up the back of his neck. “For you,” he growled more than whispered, grabbing her wandering hands and holding them beside her head. “You’re too tender.”
Her brows lifted above wide blue eyes. “What century are you really living in? You’re more old-fashioned than a Victorian spinster. I am a healthy, athletic, twenty-first-century woman,” she said with another laugh as she slid her legs up the length of his, curling them around his thighs so that her heels pulled him toward her. She stuck out her lower lip. “But if you’retoo tender, then I guess we’ll just have to cuddle until you…ah, recover a bit,” she offered, all the while trying to wiggle herself into a more promising position, obviously well aware that he was not only nottender but quite recovered.
Matt slid back inside her with maddening slowness, watching her face flush with returning passion as his own desire soared into the stratosphere at mach two.
Winter MacKeage then proceeded to not only back up her boast of athletic health, she proved herself to be surprisingly free of inhibitions and provokingly curious for a woman so new to the sport.
They made love several more times that night, sometimes with wild abandon and sometimes with lazy tenderness, sometimes dozing between sessions and sometimes just lying in each other’s arms as they listened to the angry wind howling outside their cozy golden den.
And through it all, deep in the back of Matt’s mind, was the realization that morning would arrive with either Winter’s vow of loyalty passing the test, or the harsh reality of an even more deadly storm damning them both.
Chapter Seventeen
W inter woke up with a smile,thinking she might have dreamt her night of passion but for the wonderful aches in every muscle she had and the very real taste of Matt Gregor still on her lips. She could tell she was alone without even opening her eyes, the cave’s stillness so absolute after being filled with an energy so volatile that her insides still quivered with remembered sensations.
When her stomach rumbled, Winter remembered she hadn’t eaten anything yesterday and decided she should cook Matt a nice breakfast to impress him with her one and only domestic skill. She opened her eyes and sat up to discover she’d thrown off the sleeping bag sometime in her sleep. Good heavens, had she been lying here stark naked while Matt had dressed and gone outside? She snatched up the sleeping bag and belatedly held it over her body, a blush scorching her cheeks as she blinked at her surroundings. She suddenly gasped.
The walls were glowing. Glowing! The granite was no longer a dark gray but a soft rich gold, and she could actually feelwaves of heat radiating from them. No wonder she’d thrown off the sleeping bag; it had to be eighty degrees in the cave.
“Curses,” she muttered, scrambling to her feet, her nakedness forgotten as she crept to the wall and gently touched the golden glow. It was hot!
Had her little incident with her staff yesterday charged the granite with ions or something? Could they be radioactive? She snatched her hand back just as another thought struck her. How in hell was she going to explain glowing walls to Matt?
Winter spun around, gathered up the clothes she’d been wearing yesterday, and quickly dressed, ignoring her protesting muscles as she contorted her arms to fasten her bra. She then hopped from one foot to the other to slip into her pants as she frantically searched the cave for her staff. Where in heck was it? She knew she had left the stick where it had blown against the back wall last night, but it wasn’t there!
She stopped in midhop with another gasp.
Gesader. Where in heck was her pet?
Winter sat down and put on her socks. He must have heard someone coming through the woods last night and left before Matt had gotten to the cave. And the brat had taken that blasted stick with him, Winter decided as she crammed her feet into her boots and quickly laced them. But staff or not, she still had to find a way to explain the glowing walls.
Wait. A fire. She could build a huge fire in the pit, and Matt would think the flames were reflecting off the walls and making them glow. Yeah, and that would also account for it being as hot as Hades in here. Winter scooted over to the fire pit, threw several pieces of wood into a haphazard tepee, and started looking around for a starter.
Curses, she was right back to her original problem—no starter. She got to her feet, tiptoed to the entrance of the cave, and peeked outside to look for Matt. The wind had died down considerably, and only light snow was falling now, but all Winter saw were Matt’s footprints heading toward the meadow. She sighed in relief, ran to the birch tree she’d mutilated yesterday, and ripped off several more strips of bark. She ran back, stuffed the bark inside the tepee, then started hunting for her packet of matches.
She lifted the sleeping bag and then the pad, tossing them away to see underneath, and found nothing but empty ground. She ran to the pile of blankets, pawing through them but still finding nothing.
She did find the lantern sitting next to the side wall, but no matches beside it. Beginning to panic, she tore all the clothes out of Matt’s bag looking for a lighter, something, anything to start a fire!
Winter walked back to the pit, circling it as she stared at the fireless tepee. Crouching down with her back to the entrance, she frowned. Robbie didn’t use a staff to start fires when they ate lunch in the forest; he only had to touch the wood to get it to burst into flame. He never spoke any words, but just seemed to wantit to light and it did.
Well, she was supposed to be a wizard, wasn’t she? Winter reached out and touched the wood with her finger, willed it to burst into flame, and got…She got nothing, not even a fizzle.
She frowned, concentrating harder, this time demandingit to light…and still got nothing.
A large hand suddenly covered hers, holding her finger on the wood. “You need to calmly ask for what you want,” Matt whispered just as the tepee gently burst into flame.
Winter scurried away with a startled yelp, standing up and backing against the wall of the cave, her eyes wide with shock. Matt fed a few more sticks to the growing fire, then stood and brushed flakes of snow off his shoulders as he faced her.
Winter opened her mouth but nothing, not even a squeak, came out. How could he…how had he done…she couldn’t even comprehend what had just happened, much less articulate it.
He stepped toward her, and Winter scrambled sideways along the glowing wall. He stopped, tucked his hands behind his back, and smiled. “Good morning, wife,” he said softly.
She opened her mouth again, and this time managed only an unintelligible squeak.
“Are you hungry?” he asked. “I know I’m starved.”
“Wh-who are you?” she was finally able to whisper.
“Matheson Gregor,” he answered calmly. “Guardian of Gairn.”
“Cùram!” she gasped, clutching her hand around her neck, trying to stop the blood from draining from her face.
He bowed slightly. “Aye, but I prefer you call me Matt. Or husband,” he offered with a crooked smile.
Winter inched farther along the wall, its heat causing a trickle of sweat to run down her back.
Daar and her papa and Robbie had been hunting for Cùram de Gairn for over two weeks, and he’d been right under their noses the whole time. She eyed the entrance of the cave, gauging her chances of getting past Matt—or Cùram or whoever the heck he was!—before he could get around the fire.
“Don’t even try,” he said softly. “I’ll catch you before you can leave the meadow. And besides, there is no place for you to run, wife.”
“Stop calling me that! I’m not your wife!”
He pulled his hands from behind his back and folded his arms over his chest, looking down at the balled-up sleeping bag at his feet, then back at her, one eyebrow raised. “We became man and wife last night, Winter,” he whispered in calm contradiction to her shout.
“We are not married! Having sex isn’t the same as having a wedding,” she continued a bit more forcefully, anger rising to her defense. She folded her own arms under her breasts, not to mimic him, but to hug herself against the chill growing inside her despite the wall scorching her back. “There has to be an actual ceremony and a priest in attendance for it to be binding.”
“Oh, it’s binding, princess, if the two people exchanging vows do so willingly.” He shrugged. “A priest is only a formality for society’s sake.” He lifted one brow again. “Did you not pledge me your love and loyalty last night, Winter? Did you not agree to my own declaration of marriage?”
She vehemently shook her head. “I didn’t pledge anything to you!” She inched closer to the entrance. “I said those things to somebody else last night. I thought you were Matt Gregor, a simple businessman.”
He inclined his head. “But I am a simple businessman. I’ve lived and worked in this time for two and a half years now, accumulating enough wealth to buy this mountain and build a home for us to live in.”
Winter pressed more deeply against the wall. “You didn’t come here to marry me. You’re here to destroy mankind!”
He didn’t so much as flinch at her shouted accusation, but merely lifted one blasted brow again.
“Who told you that? Pendaär?” He snorted and shook his head. “That old bastard is more prone to melodrama than to reason. Destroying mankind is not my intent, though it will likely be one of the consequences.”
“T-then why are you here?”
“For you, Winter. I’ve come here for you.”
His softly spoken declaration finally sent Winter over the edge of reason and into a dark, swirling void of horror. She pushed off the wall and bolted for the entrance, kicking the sleeping bag into the fire as she ran past, tearing out of the cave as if the hounds of hell were nipping her heels.
She ignored Matt’s calmly given shout as she wove through the trees toward the meadow.
Where in curses was Snowball? And Gesader? The panther was supposed to be her protector, and now was not the time for him to worry about being seen.
Winter broke into the meadow at a flat-out run, praying the snow wasn’t hiding anything to trip her, and shouted Gesader’s name. She was answered by Matt’s shout from behind her, only this time he sounded a bit frantic. And then she heard him roar Nay!at the same time something heavy slammed into her back, knocking her to the ground.
Winter tumbled through the snow in a tangle of flailing arms and feet and black fur. There was another violent impact that knocked a scream from her lungs as she rolled free to land facedown in the snow, the sound of a snarl and an even more angry growl rolling down the meadow away from her.
She looked up to find Matt and Gesader, only ten feet away, wrestling. Not wanting to leave her pet, but also not wanting to waste the opportunity he was so valiantly giving her, Winter scrambled to her feet and started running across the meadow again, this time in the direction of Tom’s cabin. Gesader could take care of himself, she decided. A man was no match for a leopard.
She skidded to a halt and looked back. But a drùidh?Could Gesader hold his own against the powerful Cùram de Gairn?
Winter saw the two of them were facing each other now, both crouched in a striking position.
“Don’t run, Winter,” Matt shouted without taking his eyes off his adversary. “He’s drunk. He’s wanting to chase anything that runs, and he might hurt you.”
Winter gaped at Gesader. Drunk? Her pet was drunk?
It was a trick, she decided. Matt was only trying to trick her. Winter turned and started running again toward the bottom end of the meadow.
“Nay!”Matt shouted.
Winter looked over her shoulder and saw Gesader pursuing her, moving at an alarming speed that was quickly closing the distance between them. She changed direction with her own shout of surprise, making Gesader lose his footing as he tried to take a passing swipe at her.
Winter was cleaned off her feet by Matt this time, but her landing was a lot less bruising as Matt wrapped her up in his arms and took the brunt of their fall. Before her head was even done spinning, Matt was on his feet and shoving her behind his back, putting himself between her and her snarling pet.
“Back off, Kenzie,” he snapped. “Before you hurt her.”
Gesader let out a roar that echoed through the meadow in bone-chilling waves, his tail whipping the air in anger.
“Go sleep it off, Kenzie,” Matt said softly. “And don’t come back until you’re sober and ready to apologize to my wife,”he finished, emphasizing the last word.
For Gesader’s sake, Winter suddenly realized, not hers.
The leopard gave another angry roar, then turned and started walking down the sloping meadow, his tail switching in agitation as he growled under his breath. Matt turned to Winter, and she stepped back from his own angry expression.
