Illicit Read Online Free Page B

which had gone dormant for a few precious moments, woke with a vengeance. Take her, it growled.
    Peter swallowed. Knew this was the point in their conversation, before he was too shit-faced to feel guilt and remorse, where he should tell her exactly who he was. In some part of his gut, he knew his connection to Greg would ruin everything. Even in death the old man was a bastard.
    Women had a mental checklist they kept running at all times. Every man they met went into a box. The friend box. The asshole box. The potential lover box. The awkwardness of “You stole my father, took his love and left me with none” would send him to the no-man’s-land box. He took one lingering look at the warmth in her eyes, made the conscious decision not to tell her who he was.
    Yep, he was going to hell. But who cared? Tonight was tonight. Tomorrow, when the pass opened back up, he’d be gone. By the time Eva realized she’d fucked Greg’s long-lost son, he’d be halfway back to Montana.
    Yes , the feline purred, knew they were one step closer to getting what they both wanted.
    “You seem to know James pretty well. How come I’ve never seen you around here before?” she asked, slowly tracing the rim of her glass.
    He wondered if she knew how sexual the simple gesture was. Peter sat back, stretched his long legs out more comfortably under the table. If she minded the way his calf pressed against hers, she didn’t say anything.
    “I used to live here. I left when I was fifteen, haven’t been back since. I live in Montana now, own a couple of fencing companies. And you’ve met me before, you just don’t remember it.”
    A frown creased her brows. “I’d remember if I met you.”
    In twenty years, you’d think someone—Greg—would have mentioned the fact he’d had a son named Peter. Among the Pard, with Peter’s dark hair and green eyes, he stood apart from the other blond-haired, blue-eyed snow leopard shifters. If she’d known who he was, just the mere mention of the name Peter should have clued her in.
    “Why would you remember?” he asked. “Is it because I’m the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen? Or are you just wary of men with multiple personalities? I do suppose you wouldn’t forget someone like that.”
    Eva hid her grimace behind the cup she pressed to her lips. “I deserved that. But, you started it.”
    “Fair enough,” he conceded. “You were five when I met you. It was only once, and not for very long. I suppose I shouldn’t blame you for not remembering, even though it does sting the pride a bit.”
    “Your pride will be just fine. And don’t take it personally. I don’t remember much from the year Greg rescued me. He found me abandoned on the road, just outside of town. He took me in, cleaned, clothed and named me, then raised me as his own. To this day, I’ve got no idea where I came from, or who I really am. I would have died if it weren’t for him. I’ll never be able to repay him, and now…now that he’s dead, I can’t even try.”
    He’d known how dire her situation was then, knew it now. The truth didn’t change his resentment toward his father. Just when Peter had come to accept Greg wasn’t capable of love, Eva had come along and proven him wrong. Greg could love…he just couldn’t love Peter.
    “What did the Pard think of the Alpha bringing a non-shifter within their sacred circle? They’ve got a strict no-human policy, or at least, they used to. I don’t know them, not anymore.”
    Some emotion filled her eyes, gave off a scent he couldn’t place. It wasn’t anger, and it wasn’t sadness. A golden light flared in her gaze and it was just barely visible in her dark brown eyes. He liked the intrigue, the possibility of ferreting out her secrets.
    “I never said I was human.” Tilting her head and then angling her glass, Eva threw back the liquor as if she’d been drinking whiskey all her life.
    He watched her throat work, her eyes water. It was easy to fantasize