Page 26 of Beasts of Mine

His ears moved forward.

I smiled.

“Cat,” I announced to the leopard, watching for his reaction.

Both ears flattened. The response was immediate enough that I laughed.

No, the leopard replied, his voice carrying an unmistakable warning despite the fact that I could see amusement lingering in his eyes.

“Oh, you don't like Cat?” I asked him, trying and failing to keep my expression innocent.

I am not a house cat, the leopard answered, lifting his head higher as though deeply offended by the comparison.

“I noticed,” I told him, letting my gaze travel deliberately over the size of his paws. “You're slightly larger.”

The leopard made a low irritated sound. From somewhere overhead, the scarlet macaw burst into noisy laughter.

That settled it.

I called him Cat whenever I wanted to annoy him after that.

I never used it when things were serious. He never told me to stop more than twice. By the end of the week, the urge to photograph him had become almost impossible to ignore.

I hadn't done it yet.

That surprised even me.

Normally, encountering a leopard at this distance would have had my camera in my hands immediately, but our first meeting had been different. He'd been injured and vulnerable. Taking photographs while he could barely stand had felt wrong, particularly once I realized he could understand me.

Now the cut along his side had nearly closed.

Late-afternoon light filtered through the canopy and fell across his coat in warm broken patches, catching individual rosettes along his shoulders.

My fingers practically itched toward the camera resting beside me.

The leopard noticed.

Of course he did.

You keep looking at that, the leopard observed, his gaze shifting toward the camera near my thigh.

I glanced down.

“I was wondering if you'd let me photograph you,” I admitted to the leopard, resting one hand over the camera without lifting it. “I won't if you don't want me to.”

His attention moved from the equipment back to my face.

Why? the leopard asked, turning his head slightly while sunlight caught the gold around his eyes.

“Because you're beautiful,” I answered without thinking.

Silence followed.

I realized what I'd said approximately half a second too late.

Heat moved into my cheeks.

“I mean, photographically,” I clarified to the leopard, picking up the camera mostly so I had something to do with my hands. “Your coat looks good in this light, and the contrast with the ferns is beautiful. You would make an incredible subject.”