Date: 2012-04-01 04:05:25+00:00
Keywords: Romance; Novella; Erotica; Shapeshifters; Suspense; Paranormal Romance; Action & Adventure; Fantasy; Paranormal; Adult; Fiction; Vampires; Urban Fantasy
Description: It’s lust at first sight for an endangered teacher and her vampire bodyguard in this paranormal romance novella from a New York Times–bestselling author. On the run from a mental institution and her vindictive half-brother, it's safe to say that Sarah Pringle's happy life as a schoolteacher is on hold. Too bad that as far as self-defense goes, "run and hide" is the best she's got. And with the monsters that started her escape hot on her heels, that's not going to cut it for long... That is, unless Sarah has a bigger, badder, hotter monster on her side. Max Petrovsky is right at the top of the

TEMPTED

REBECCA ZANETTI

KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.
www.kensingtonbooks.com

All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

Table of Contents

Title Page
Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10
Teaser chapter
Teaser chapter
Copyright Page

Prologue

Four months ago

Their sworn enemy had declared war again. He had known it would happen.

Max Petrovsky settled in the leather chair, his gaze on Dage Kayrs. Being in an office, any office, made his shoulders twitch. He belonged on the battlefield and not in the king’s underground headquarters. “I’m ready to go, King.”

“Yes. You’re always ready to go.” Dage leaned forward, resting his elbows on the onyx desk, western oil paintings lining the wall behind him. “I had hoped to avoid war for another century, but the Kurjans haven’t given me a choice.”

The bottom-feeders would die. “Then I should get going—take them out in my home country.” Not that the United States hadn’t been good to him. Max liked it, but he also knew the strongholds at home, good old mother Russia. Although he hadn’t been back in centuries, the hills where he’d hidden from his drunken father were embedded in his memory.

“You’ve been working alone for too long.”

They’d had this discussion before. “I am alone.”

Fire lanced through Dage’s eyes at Max’s words. Or in remembrance of the condition in which the king had found him in his youth, nearly two hundred years ago. Bleeding and broken. “You haven’t been alone since the day you joined my family.”

“I know.” Max was grateful and would die protecting Dage or his brothers. He’d killed for them and had no doubt he’d do so again. But he wasn’t family.

“You are too family, you asshole.”

Max let a rare grin loose. “Must be. You only swear at family.”

The king also tried to stay out of most people’s brains—damn mind reader—though family was never safe from his concerned probing. Dage cleared his throat. “About that. I, ah, have an assignment I’d like for you to consider.”

Max waited.

The leader of the most powerful beings in existence took his measure. “As you know, my brother Talen has taken a mate and is currently in West Virginia working with the feline shifters. His mate has a psychic human daughter, who is now here at headquarters.”

Unease tickled Max’s nape. He’d heard about the four-year-old, and how the Kurjans declared war to find her. “Yes.”

“She needs a bodyguard.”

Oh, hell no. “Dage, you can’t be serious.” Max was a soldier. . . even looked like a killing machine. No way should a small child be anywhere in his vicinity.

“Just check her out—give me your opinion. Tell me if there’s anyone you think would make a good bodyguard.” Dage stood, no expression on his hard face. “I merely want your opinion.”

Max stretched to his feet, trying to read the king. His unease increased. “All right.” He tilted his head toward a screen lining one wall. “Show me.”

Dage put on his diplomatic smile. “No. I’d like for you to meet her in person.” All grace, the leader stalked across the office and out the door.

In person? What the hell was the king thinking? Max was a foot soldier—a hulking, overbearing, not even close to graceful, foot soldier. With a shrug, he strode toward the door, his size eighteen boots pounding against the stone floor, even as he tried to move quietly. He’d scare the hell out of a kid. Especially a girl kid.

Three doors down he slowed before entering a room. A little girl sat on a flower shaped rug, playing with a teddy bear with funny hair.

Dage cleared his throat. “Janie, this is Max.”

The child turned her head, blue eyes crinkling as she smiled. “Hi, Max.” She pushed to her feet, scampering toward him with her hand outstretched.

He took a step back. “Hi.”

Undaunted, she grabbed his hand with both of hers, pumping vigorously. “Miss Kimmie taught us to shake hands at preschool.”

Her tiny hands covered about a fourth of his beefy hands. If he tripped, he might land on her and squash her. But he couldn’t break her hold. Little girls had feelings, right? He might hurt her feelings if he stepped away. “Preschool is good.”

Dage clapped him on the back. “I’ll let you two talk.”

Panic ripped down Max’s spine. Only the small hands kept him from grabbing the king and throwing him farther into the room. The bastard deserted him.

Janie tugged him inside, retaking her seat on the girly rug. “Sit down, Max.”

He sighed in relief as she released him. Then he dropped to his knees, keeping his boots off the rug. But he towered over her. So he copied her pose, sitting down and crossing his massive legs to face her. He still towered.

She grinned, showing a gap in her front teeth. “You’re a vampire.”

“Ah, yes.” He cleared his throat. “But, well, we don’t eat people or anything.”

She didn’t look scared. And she smelled like baby powder. Maybe she was too young to be afraid of him. Or too innocent.

Was this what innocence looked like? He’d forgotten.

Her tiny nose crinkled and her curly brown hair bobbed. “I know that, silly. My new daddy is a vampire. You’re good.”

Good? He was a killing machine. A heart he’d forgotten about thumped. “Not really.”

“Uh huh.” She patted his knee. “I promise.” Those deep blue eyes turned serious. “The bad guys want me.”

Smart little thing—yet she had no idea how bad the bad guys really were. “You’re safe here, Janie.” He hoped that was true.

She shrugged a delicate shoulder. “Will you be my friend, Max?”

The world shifted. “Yes.” He could probably show her some self-defense moves when she grew up.

Her smile was the sweetest thing he’d ever seen. She clapped her hands together. “Friends tell each other secrets.”

“Um, okay.” He wasn’t a guy with secrets. Life was easier when everything was on the table.

“You first.” Dare had her tiny eyebrow arching.

He shifted on the soft rug. Well, he kind of had a secret. “Okay.” Inhaling softly, he let his eyes change colors, morphing into his vampire colors. The hue had encouraged more than one vampire to ridicule him in his youth—until he beat the crap out of them.

Janie gasped, delight flashing across her face. “Your eyes got pink!”

Yeah. Vampires had secondary eye colors usually brought out during emotional or stressful times, and most had metallic blue, gold, even copper hues. But not Max. The biggest, baddest, brute on the block had metallic pink eyes.

“Your eyes are my favoritest color, Max.” She glanced around him toward the door, then focused back on him. “I see stuff. Stuff that’s gonna happen. The bad guys—the ones scared of the sun—they’re gonna get me.”

His spine straightened. Something foreign in him wanted to protect her, wanted to make sure nobody ever took that innocence out of her eyes. Wanted to shield her from the evil he knew so well. He met her gaze, abandoning any thought of heading to Russia. “They’ll have to go through me, Janie.” It was a vow, and he meant it to his soul.

Dage reappeared and asked him outside. Janie returned to playing with the stuffed animal.

Once he was in the hallway, Max studied the king. “Nicely done.”

Dage shrugged. “You’ve spent two hundred years protecting the Realm, fighting for our people, ensuring my safety.”

“So?”

Blue shot through the silver in the king’s eyes. “If you had to make a choice, if it came down to it, if it came down to the death of your king—or the death of that child—who lives?”

Most people sacrificed everything for the king and the Realm. Max had done so for two centuries. He cocked his head to the side. “She lives.”

“You’re hired.”

Chapter 1

The present day

Damn it all to hell. The last place Max needed to be was outside the crappy motel trying to get a glimpse of the woman inside room thirteen. He shrugged his shoulders against the rain splattering his leather jacket. Switching from babysitting back to war and possible violence failed to provide the rush he’d expected. But he’d follow orders.

As a hunter, he was a Russian bloodhound—and Dage needed a bloodhound for this one.

The curtain slid to the side.

Max settled his stance in the center of the deserted parking lot. The woman had parked her stolen truck around the corner, a tactical move of which he approved.

A pale face peered out the window. Even across the torn concrete, he could see her eyes widen. Yeah. It wasn’t like he was trying to hide. He held his hands up, palms out. Empty and harmless.

The curtain fluttered closed.

Well, it was worth a try. He hadn’t wanted to scare her by knocking on her door. The hunting part of his job normally ended with cutting someone’s head off—usually as a way to end evil. But this time, he was hunting and gathering. Any finesse needed for the second part of his plan didn’t exist inside his hulking frame. He glanced down at his huge boots and rain-soaked dark jeans. No wonder the woman had cowered away from the window.

Biting back a sigh, he stalked over uneven concrete and deep puddles. Maneuvering around to the rear of the paint-chipped building, he found his prey.

Two long legs led up to a heart-shaped ass trying to wiggle out a window. He let her drop to the ground, waiting until she turned around.

“Please don’t run.” His boots were made for kicking down doors, not running.

She yelped, pressing back against the worn shingles, hand to her chest.

It was the worst self-defense move he’d ever seen. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Eyes the color of deep chocolate widened. Dark circles marred the smooth skin over her delicate features. Running had taken a toll. Sandy-blond hair framed her classic face. She stood much taller than Cara and Emma, the new mates of his friends and the only human females he’d been near in over a century.

This woman, the one he hunted, she stood tall with legs long enough to give him pause. Yet, even at about five foot eleven, she was several inches shorter than him.

Something sizzled along his spine. His body reacted to the gentle vibrations cascading off the woman. Instinct honed his focus on her. Special. He should’ve known by his obsession with her picture. The woman was a potential vampire mate. Enhanced. Maybe an empath?

He waited as she settled her stance. Then went for a knee shot.

It was the worse side kick he’d ever seen. Her worn tennis shoe bounced off his knee, causing no more hurt than a breeze. She stumbled, and he reached out to steady her. His hand easily wrapped around her bicep. “Where the hell did you learn to fight?”

“The internet,” she gasped, trying to jerk away.

That explained it. “The knee shot was a good move. You just didn’t aim the kick right.” He was a big guy. If she dropped him, she’d be able to run.

“Should I try again?” Fire lit her eyes while a small smile flirted with her pink lips.

The humor caught him off guard. He matched her smile. “You’ll just hurt your foot.”

Rain splattered against her plain white T-shirt, outlining perky breasts. Awareness slid down his spine. Now was not the time. He needed to focus. Tightening his hold, he began to ease around the building. She dug in her feet, pulling back, but he continued on the way. Forget about those curves. He had a job to do and needed to be home to protect Janie by the end of the week. “Stop fighting me, Miss Pringle.”

She stumbled again. “You know my name.”

They reached the door to her room and he tried the doorknob. Locked. “I know everything about you.” He’d read Sarah Pringle’s file several times, intrigued by the former teacher’s kind eyes. The dossier had failed to describe her killer body. “My name is Max. Where’s your key?”

She glanced around the deserted area, eyeing the forest to the south. “I left it inside.”

He pivoted, smashing his shoulder into the wood. The door splintered, swinging inward. The stench of moldy carpet assaulted him as he tugged her inside. What a dive. “Get your stuff. You have two minutes.” Then he stilled. Blood. The spicy scent filled his nostrils, overcoming the stench. “Did you hurt yourself going through the window?” He grabbed her by the shoulders to take inventory. Red welled from a cut in her upper arm.

“I’m fine.” She licked her lips.

Something warmed in his belly. Even worn down, the woman was beautiful. Her blood smelled like sex and sunshine. “You have a scrape.” Two steps had them at the bathroom, where he grabbed a threadbare towel to gently wipe off the blood. “There, now. No big deal.” He softened his voice as he’d learned to do when Janie had a small injury. Not that he let her get injured often.

Sarah cleared her throat. “Are you working for the monsters?”

“No.” Damn. He should’ve told her that already. “I’m not working with the Kurjans.”

Her skin was too soft. How the heck had she evaded them for so long? “You know about them?” Her breath caught, and she seemed to hold it. “They’re called Kurjans?”

“Yes. I’ll explain about them when you’re safe.”

She shook her head. “I’m not going back to the institution.”

“No, you’re not.” Max tried to put on his most reassuring expression. From the wary glint in her eye, he’d failed. “You’re safe, Sarah. I promise.”

A pretty blush wandered across her face. “Um. Why do you have blue nail polish on your pinky?”

“I lost at Go Fish.”

The rain was increasing outside and battering through the destroyed door. Too much cloud cover for his peace of mind. He glanced at his watch. “We need to go.”

“No. If you’re not with them, you’re with the institution. I’m not going anywhere.” Determination had her chin lifting. She edged away from him, sidling around the ripped bedspread.

“I found you. They’ll find you.” The woman might suck at fighting, but she’d done a good job covering her tracks. He’d needed an entire week to hunt her down. The Kurjans couldn’t be far behind.

The empty beer bottle she grabbed from the bed table snapped the slow temper he’d shoved down. Although he appreciated a woman who liked a beer, he didn’t have time for this crap. His nape itched—they had to go. “Ah, sweetheart. You want to stop playing with me now.”

“Playing?” Her lips tightened into a white line. “You’ve misread me, bounty hunter.”

Even pissed, he couldn’t help the grin. “You think I’m a bounty hunter sent by a loony bin?” It probably was rude to refer to the mental institution as a loony bin.

“Why else would you be here?” She wrinkled her forehead, backing toward the door, the harmless bottle stretched toward him.

“What’s your plan here, brown eyes?” He cocked his head to the side.

She swallowed. “Well, move and I’ll aim this for your head—or I’ll break it and, ah, cut you.”

Jesus. The woman couldn’t even give a decent bluff. A sweetness lived in her that somehow warmed him. A sweetness he wouldn’t have recognized had he not spent the last four months learning to nurture rather than destroy—though he still knew how to destroy.

Sulfur tickled his nose. Shit.

Max leaped for Sarah, tossing her on the bed and pivoting to ram headfirst into a Kurjan soldier before he could clear the doorway. They went down hard, Max scrambling for the gun tucked beneath his jacket. He dug his knee into the Kurjan’s groin, yanking the gun to shoot green lasers into the neck.

The white-faced monster went limp. Not dead, but certainly out cold.

Max jumped up, his gaze on the dark sky. It gave the Kurjans free rein. Pity. The sun fried the bastards.

A black van screeched into the parking lot, and three Kurjans jumped out. Max turned toward Sarah. “Get in the bathroom. Lock the door and don’t come out until I yell.”

But she wasn’t looking at him. Her wide eyes stared at the scout on the ground, her hand shaking on the bottle. “I knew it. I knew they existed.” She swayed, her dark eyelashes fluttering against her pasty-white skin.

Shit. She was going into shock. “Now!”

Her gaze darted to Max, but she didn’t move.

Damn it. He lunged for her, picking her up and shoving her into the bathroom. Muttering about women who didn’t listen, he yanked the bed away from the wall to rest against the door. She wasn’t coming out, and nobody was going in. Of course, she’d head out the back window again. But the Kurjans didn’t know that.

Pain ripped into his neck. A knife thrown—and thrown well. His fangs dropped low, and he hissed. He drew air through his nose, yanking the blade out of his jugular. Blood burned as it slid down his skin. He’d have to deal with these guys fast. Before he passed out.

Chapter 2

Sarah jumped out the window, running for the forest. She couldn’t go back for the truck—her only transportation. She’d seen a Kurjan. One of the monsters. They existed. She wasn’t crazy. She hoped she wasn’t crazy.

Thunder ripped overhead. Rain soaked her in minutes as she ran between forbidding pine trees. An exposed root tripped her, and only raw terror kept her upright. Fleeing.

Max had trapped her in the bathroom. So he could fight the other three Kurjans. She hoped he won. But no way would she wait around and see—and let either Max or the monsters take her.

She kept running.

So much for her plan to reach safety. She’d only made it to the center of Washington State, and was in a random forest. Did moss really grow on the north side of a tree? North was Canada. Maybe she could reach Canada.

Minutes passed. She stopped, pressing her hands against her knees, sucking in air. She needed to keep moving.

She hurried as long as she could, taking several breaks along the way and listening to the forest. Nobody followed her. The storm attacked the trees around her, their branches providing some cover. Soon, too tired to hustle, she began walking doggedly uphill through rough brush and wet trees, not even feeling the rain anymore. She’d gone from bone cold to numb. North. She was still going north—climbing a mountain.

Two more hours passed and night fell like an ominous blanket. An earlier lightning strike had illuminated a forest service lookout tower up the mountain. It meant there had to be a town somewhere. Maybe on the other side of the mountain.

Lightning crashed into the treetops. She shrieked, halting. Ozone filtered through the wet smell of pine. Shelter. She needed shelter. If she didn’t warm up, she wouldn’t be able to function at all. Taking a deep breath, she hustled the last mile to the tower. The worn wooden structure rose high into the air, no doubt providing an amazing view of the forest. She gazed up the steep flight of stairs. Towers had lightning rods, so she’d be safe inside to wait out the rest of the storm. At least, she’d read that somewhere.

The rain-slicked steps tripped her several times, but she finally slipped over the top step and shoved open the door. Rain on the metal roof drowned out her sigh of relief. A lantern hung next to the door, and she twisted the knob to illuminate the small space.

A cot sat against the far wall, and glassless windows lined all four sides, showcasing the fantastic greenery extending for miles and miles outside. Heavy eaves outside provided some protection from the whipping wind and rain. Laminated maps covered a table in the center of the room. Cabinets recessed into each wall. A phone and walkie-talkie set perched below the table ... but she had no one to call.

Her legs shook from cold and fear as she staggered across the rough wooden floor and dropped onto the cot. Vibrations, images, and thoughts of people who’d sat there before bombarded her, and she shoved them away. She could handle her gift—she just needed to relax. Three deep breaths later, she tried to slow her racing pulse. She needed to warm up. Her shoulders shook so hard her teeth rattled.

Someone knocked on the door.

She leaped to her feet, sliding on the wood floor. Her hand went to her throat. Thunder rolled high and loud.

“Miss Pringle? I’m coming in.” The door opened on a gust of wind, and Max stepped inside.

“Jesus.” She could only gape.

His wet brown hair, thick and wavy, was plastered to his head. A soaked black T-shirt and jeans revealed rock-hard muscle. Not even winded, he was the largest man she’d ever seen. His face was rugged ... strong. Not handsome ... but, well, masculine. Yeah. That was the term. Deep, dark, and shielded brown eyes took her measure.

A shiver slid down her spine, some fear, some intrigue. “How did you find me?”

“You left a trail a first-week Boy Scout could follow. I saw you heading for the tower, so I kept pace until you got here.” He eyed her sopping clothing, his dark gaze wandering up to her face. “Your lips are blue.”

Three steps had him at the cabinets, yanking them open to grab a sealed bag. His large hands ripped open the bag and yanked out two wool blankets. “Take your clothes off.”

“No.” It came out on a croak. How insulting. He’d been tracking her, easily keeping her in sight. So much for getting to freedom. “We need to run. If you’re here, they’re coming.”

He wiped his forehead with his arm. “No, they’re not.”

Her mind spun. If the Kurjans weren’t coming—they were dead. “You killed four of them?” She backed away, knees hitting the cot. Unwelcome vibrations wandered up her legs. She shoved the images away. Her teeth chattered and she clenched her lips together. Her shoulders shook she was so damn cold.

How had he survived the fight? She struggled to focus. “What the hell are you?”

“A damn good fighter.” One broad hand ripped his wet shirt over his head to hang on a nail. “We’ll wait the storm out—but you need to warm up.”

A good enough fighter to kill four deadly monsters? That good a fighter didn’t exist. Neither did absolutely perfect, harder than granite, sculpted male chests. Oh she wished he’d put his shirt back on. The breath heated in her lungs. “No.”

“No to what?”

“No to you beating the Kurjans. No to there actually being Kurjans. No to taking off my clothes. No to it all.” Hysteria had her blinking rapidly.

“Stay calm, sweetheart.” Max moved toward her, slow and steady, like an animal stalking prey. Except he looked more like a mountain than an animal. Not one of those rolling hills from home ... but a real mountain. Jagged and wild—yet solid. Unmovable.

Instinct had her raising both fists, preparing to fight.

He stopped cold. His eyes warmed and he cocked his head to the side. “Honey, take your thumbs out of your closed fists.”

She frowned. “Why?”

He sighed. “Because you’ll break them that way.” A scowl shaped his rugged face into something dangerous. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you how to fight?”

Why did he sound angry? “No.” Irritation began to well up. “Don’t patronize me. I can handle myself.”

“Can you, now?” He stepped closer, bringing the scent of male and freshly cut cedar with him. “Prove it.”

Her entire body stiffened, and then she sneezed. Twice. Shivers wracked her shoulders.

His sigh stirred her hair. He held the blanket out. “We can do this your way ... or my way.”

She lifted her chin. “What’s the difference?” Cold. She was so damn cold.

“Your way is I turn around, you drop the wet clothes and wrap yourself in this nice, clean, kinda rough blanket.” No expression showed on his stony face, but something lingered in those too dark eyes. “My way is that I help you.”

Lightning zigzagged outside the wide windows, illuminating the entire world. It was almost as if the electricity aimed for the interior of the small space. She jumped, grabbing the blanket.

“Wise choice.” He turned around. “If you’ve never seen a lightning storm from a watchtower, you’re in for a treat, Sarah.”

She took in his broad back, intrigued by the jagged tattoo winding over his right shoulder. Sharp points crisscrossed to form a fierce bird rising from fire. A phoenix? Those shoulders could shield a village. Then the breath stopped in her throat at the myriad of scars lining his lower back. Raised and white, they screamed old pain. “Are you one of the good guys, Max?”

“Stop stalling, darlin’. I’m not a patient man.” Soft, even kind, his voice nonetheless held a firm note of warning.

Not exactly an answer. She clutched the blanket with shaking hands. “Why do you care if I catch cold?”

“Sarah.” One word, yet clipped.

“Fine.” Slow motions had her shoes toed off. Her jeans clung to her wet legs, and she had to shove them down with icy fingers. She pulled her socks off and kicked the mess to the side.

“Underwear, too.”

“No way.” Her T-shirt followed the rest and she wrapped the blanket around her shivering body with a small sigh of relief. She paused, waiting. Nope. No vibrations. The blanket hadn’t been used by anyone before.

He exhaled, muscles rippling in his broad back. “I know this is scary. But hypothermia or pneumonia really suck. I won’t look at you. I won’t touch you. While you have no reason to trust me, I swear on the head of my stubborn, don’t-give-a-crap about his own safety, too proud commander ... I will not hurt you. Now take off your damn underwear and warm the hell up.”

She had no choice. Exhausted, freezing, she was no match for the giant. Yet something in her eased at his words. He had a commander he obviously cared for. Figured he was a soldier. She shimmied out of the plain cotton briefs, wrapping the blanket tighter. “What’s your tattoo of?”

His shoulders shrugged. “The mythical Russian firebird—a predator on a quest. I was Russian, a long time ago.”

“You don’t sound Russian.” Gravity pulled her down to sit on the cot.

The tattoo rippled when he moved. “I’ve been in the States for years.” Economical movements had him grabbing her clothing to hang on large hooks on the wall. Thunder growled outside. “These might dry some tonight—I have friends picking us up tomorrow morning when the storm blows over.”

“Picking us up?”

“Helicopter.” He yanked a cell phone out of his pocket. “I texted them before coming inside.” He kicked off his boots. Quick motions had his jeans off and hanging with her clothes.

Talk about male. Real male. Muscled and hard. God. She gulped. “So. You work out.”

His bark of laughter eased the rest of her tension. “Yes. I train with the soldiers and often hit my good friend, Connlan. We box.” Max reached for ropes to tug the shutters closed on three sides of the tower. “The wind is going the other way. We’ll leave the west side open to keep an eye on the storm.” He turned toward her, that dark gaze searching as he twisted the light off. “Try to sleep, Sarah. I’ll keep watch.”

Darkness descended. “You’re a soldier.”

“Yes.” He moved like a soldier—graceful and fast.

The night lent an intimacy to the room she’d like to avoid, though she understood the need for darkness. While she craved the light, it made them too easy to spot. “You think the Kurjans are coming?”

“Not tonight.” Two loud steps and he gently pushed her shoulder so she’d lie down. The second blanket dropped on her, and he moved away.

She’d allow her body to rest. No way in hell would she sleep. “How did you kill four of them, Max?” Her teeth chattered between each word. Cold. Her feet actually stung they were so cold.

“I cut off their heads.”

Nausea swirled in her stomach at his casual tone. “That’s not what I meant.” Certainly not what she wanted to know.

“Oh. Well, I guess my training was better than theirs.”

The guy was a politician at not answering a question. “Are you some genetically enhanced human soldier?” Her grasp on reality had been shattered the day she saw a Kurjan kill a woman. Anything seemed possible now.

“No.” Lightning flashed outside, throwing him into focus.

Dangerous. The man should have a warning stamped on his chest. Her shivers turned into shakes.

“Damn it.” Two strides and he shoved her over. “Don’t panic here, darlin’. But we’re about to snuggle.” Quick movements had him under the blanket, turning her to spoon against him.

Warmth. God. So much warmth infused her she caught her breath. Her shoulders relaxed, even against her will. “You said you wouldn’t touch me.”

“I’m not.” A heavy arm settled across her waist, tugging her into him. “There’s a blanket between us.” His breath stirred along her neck, sending spirals of awareness under her skin. “I can’t have you freezing to death.”

Focus. She needed to focus. “You kept your underwear on.” The black briefs didn’t hide anything. The guy was built.

“I didn’t want you freaking out.”

Good point. “You don’t seem like a snuggler.”

“Ah sweetheart. I’ve been known to snuggle, cuddle, wipe away crocodile tears, and even buy Band-Aids decorated with ponies. I’m harmless.”

She couldn’t help the small laugh. Max was as harmless as a tornado. Yet somehow, the shelter provided by his strong body lent her a sense of safety. “You have a child.” Intriguing, although her heart ached. She wondered why. She just met the guy. He certainly wasn’t hers.

“I guard a little girl.” Max dropped his chin to Sarah’s neck. “She’s ... special.”

Love. It was in the tone of his voice. “She must be very special. Why does she need a bodyguard?”

His shoulders stiffened. “The Kurjans want her.”

“Why?” Sarah gasped, struggling to sit up. The Kurjans? She and Max had to get to the child. Now.

Max held her in place. “Like I said, she’s special.”

“We should get to her.” Sarah stopped struggling—it was useless. Might as well relax against him and steal some more warmth.

“She’s safe. I promise. We protect gifted females like Janie. And you.” Max’s breath heated the sensitive area behind Sarah’s ear.

Desire. Very unexpected and out of place, need slid through her veins, along her skin. She struggled to keep calm. What he’d said—he couldn’t know. “I’m not gifted.”

“You’re enhanced. I can feel it.”

“What does that mean?” He was just making a weird guess. Had to be. She never gave herself away.

Max’s shrug pushed her into the wall before she settled back. “Dunno. Psychic, empathic, telekinetic ... you’ve got something. It’s okay. Many people have gifts, like the ability to hit a baseball or sing a high note. Which is yours?”

The storm had settled in, allowing rain to beat against the metal roof in a rhythmic lull. Intimacy filled the small room. Trust. She so wanted to trust. The way he explained her gift, like it was normal, reminded her of her grandfather. He had accepted her gift and even found expert teachers in meditation so she could learn to control it. For the first time in too long, she didn’t feel so alone. “When I touch something, I get feelings from the object. Well, from the last person who touched it. Sometimes I even know who that was.” She held her breath.

“Oh. Psychometry. Yeah, I’ve heard of that,” Max mumbled sleepily.

Sarah closed her eyes. Hope spiraled through her solar plexus. “You believe me?”

His hand flattened out against her stomach. “Sure.”

Her abdomen flared to life. A feminine need ripped along her nerves. She’d forgotten what that felt like. She cleared her throat, opening her eyes into darkness. “You’re the first man I’ve told.”

“Oh.” His lips on her skin made her bite back a groan. “That explains why there’s no mention of a boyfriend in your file.”

Well, she had dated some. “People don’t like it when you can tell so much about them from just touching an object.” It was why she never shared her gift. “I learned to control it—through meditation and practice. Unless I’m really stressed, I can shield myself from most images.”

“But you can’t get intimate with someone with such a big secret between you, now can you?” Max stretched and slid his knees more securely behind hers. “I guess that’s why you became a teacher? Kids have their emotions right out on the surface—no big secrets.”

“Yeah.” She missed the kids. Missed teaching.

“You sound sad. Want to talk? Let it all out.”

Her smile came naturally. “Let it all out?” Who the hell was this guy? A guy who’d easily killed four monsters shouldn’t be so ... well ... likeable. “It’s just odd to talk about psychometry like it’s normal. I mean, that’s why my mom left.”

“Your mom left you?”

“Yeah.” Sarah had dealt with the anger and sadness a long time ago. But every so often, both crept up on her. “She was addicted to drugs and sometimes, when she was really high, she thought the devil had marked me with the weird gift.”

“Ah, sweetheart. I’m sorry.” Max brushed a gentle kiss on her ear. Comforting.

She shrugged. “One day, when I was two, she dropped my brother and me off at my grandpa’s and never looked back. I don’t even know if she’s still alive.” Probably not.

“But you have a brother.”

“Half brother. He hates me.” The words rang true. Andrew had always hated her. “Grandpa took us both in, but he and Andrew weren’t really related. I think Andrew blames me for our mother leaving.” For some time, Sarah had blamed herself.

“That’s just wrong.”

Enough with her sad tale. “Do you have family, Max?”

“Nope. My mother died when I was young, and my father was a real bastard who liked to hit. Had a problem with vodka.” Max’s tone stayed level.

“I’m sorry, Max.” That explained the old scars on his back. They were both alone. She snuggled closer into his warmth.

“No worries.” His breath brushed her ear and she fought a shiver. “Can you get images, or history, from all objects?”

“Usually.” Vibrations tickled her skin, and she let them in. “Many people have had wild sex on this cot.”

He stiffened.

Why in the world had she said that? She closed her eyes, yet the sight of his hard body flared to life behind her lids. “You’re hot, Max. This place gives me ideas.”

His heated exhale whispered across her neck. “If that’s an invitation, you need to be more specific and know exactly what you’re getting, sweetheart.” His breath lowered to a huskiness that had her thighs clenching together.

Curiosity followed need.

She was so not extending an invitation. What was she, certifiable? Again? “What do you mean?”

“I’m not the teddy bear I look like.”

She snorted. Teddy bear? “You look like a genetically enhanced killing machine created by a desperate government after an apocalypse.”

“Like I said, teddy bear.” He settled more securely around her. “I like large women ... females who can take it all night and are happily unable to walk the next morning. When I leave.”

Her nipples hardened. What the hell? His statement was not a turn-on. Okay, maybe the “all night” part was intriguing. “I’m large.” Her mouth had a life of its own.

He chuckled. “You’re tall. Slender and delicate.”

Was the guy blind? She had more curves than a racetrack—had always wanted to lose that last twenty pounds. Something feminine, something deep inside, sighed at his words. “We are not having sex.”

“Okay.” His lips skimmed her nape. “How about a kiss good night?”

Chapter 3

Sarah wanted that kiss. No sense in lying to herself. When was the last time she’d been kissed? A long time ago ... before being sent to the institution. Maybe she was crazy. Only insanity would have her rolling over to face him. “Okay.”

Max’s eyes cut through the darkness. So oddly light. Earlier his eyes had seemed to be darker than dark, yet surrounded by night, they almost glowed. A calloused hand swept hair away from her cheek, smoothing down to cup her jaw.

Anticipation skittered down her spine.

He leaned in, his mouth brushing hers.

Firm. Warm, sexy... . his lips heated her. He feathered a kiss on each corner of her mouth, taking his time, his air of restraint spiraling her need higher. She let him play, the breath catching in her throat.

Smooth, sure, he slanted his lips over hers, enclosing and seizing control.

It was the sexiest thing she’d ever felt.

His tongue nudged her lips open and he slid in to explore, his lips working hers. He released her jaw, sliding his hand down to settle in the small of her back, tugging her into heat and hardness.

She sighed. Eyes closing, both hands tunneled into his thick hair. Electricity lit her nerves on fire. She returned the kiss, pressing against him, need and want mingling into something only he could satisfy.

He deepened the kiss, a low growl in his throat. The hand at her waist flexed. Smooth, slow, so damn sexy, that hand slid inside the blanket and wandered. Flesh against flesh. Goose bumps rose on her stomach as he caressed north to palm her breast.

She sighed, arching into his hold.

With a twist of his wrist, he captured her nipple, rolling it between his calloused fingers.

Shock tensed her muscles. Fire zapped straight to her clit. She gasped into his kiss, then leaned back, her lips still tingling. Her eyes opened, widening on his. Lust, determination, knowledge—all swirled in his oddly light eyes.

A sudden thought occurred to her—his strength, his power was so much more than hers. And damn if her core didn’t heat more.

Keeping her gaze captive, he tugged her to him. Just enough to show dominance, just enough to catch her breath in her throat. Fire. Her eyes fluttered closed. Need flashed way beyond want.

Her mind spun, and reality disappeared.

A low growl rumbled from him—the sound full of hunger and frustration. Then he released her, and drew her blanket back together, hands fisting on the ends.

She gave a small gasp of protest, opening her eyes.

Desire and danger stamped hard on his rough face.

Butterflies zinged to life in her belly. Her body ached. Nerves screamed for relief.

“Sarah.” Gravel churned in his voice. “I’m going to roll you over, and you’re going to sleep.”

The erection pressing against her stomach guaranteed the man didn’t want to sleep. “Why?”

“Because the other option is in two seconds, you’re going to be flat on your back, getting fucked within an inch of your life. You’re not ready for that.”

Her body was so ready a hell yes slammed through it. But her mind ... her sense of self-preservation ... woke up. Small breaths panted from her lungs as she unclenched her fingers, releasing his hair. She didn’t know the man. He may be sexy, but was also deadly as hell. He probably didn’t give a warning twice. Her breasts ached as she rolled over, pressing her butt into him. His low groan gave her a petty sense of satisfaction.

No way in hell could she sleep.

Sarah awoke to a raven complaining loud and high-pitched outside. She rolled over, and reality came crashing home. The tower was empty, her clothes still hanging on the hook. Darting her gaze toward the door, she hustled out of the blankets and yanked her somewhat dry clothes on.

She finger-combed her hair, wishing for pretty curls that looked wildly sexy after sleep. But nope—stick-straight hair—no curls. She assumed she looked like a disaster.

Spotting Max’s phone on the table, she reached for it, placing both hands over the cold metal. Nothing. She frowned, trying harder. No images, no thoughts. Nothing came to her. Yet he’d held the device the previous night.

Max stomped inside, wiping dew off his forehead. “You’re pretty in the morning, Sarah.”

Warmth. So much flushed through her she fought back a cough. “You’re a blind man.”

He surveyed her. “May I have my phone?”

“Yes.” She held it out, her gaze meeting his. “I can’t get anything from it.”

“I’m sure.” He accepted the phone, tucking it in his pocket. “Maybe I have gifts, too.”

An odd indecision crossed his face. He took a step forward and grasped her arms, leaning down to brush her lips with his. “Good morning.”

Morning kisses were meant to be light, welcoming. Sweet. This one was more of a promise—a claim.

“Um, good morning.” Sarah dug into her pockets to keep from grabbing and throwing him to the cot. Her body hummed, wanting to continue what they’d started the previous night.

His nostrils flared, and he stepped back.

“Why can’t I get an image from your phone? I know you held it.” Intrigue and an odd fear held her breath in her throat.

He shrugged. “I can’t discuss why. Sometimes you just have to accept the facts without an explanation.” His jaw was stubborn. Sexy ... but stubborn.

“We’ll see.” Nobody had ever been able to shield from her before. Who the hell was Max?

He nodded. “We should get going.”

“Yeah, about that.” She’d had enough of the alpha male protector moments. She was a big girl and knew how to run. No need to return to Seattle—the few friends she’d had were teachers at the school, and sadly, they’d pretty much given up on her. With her stupid gift, she rarely made friends, not wanting to know their secrets. Starting over alone would be no big deal.

But what if she couldn’t teach? Even if found unjustified, her psychiatric record might prevent her from teaching again. She shoved the horrible thought down. “Where are you going and why should I go, too?”

He captured her gaze, his focus suddenly and completely on her. “Good question. I’m taking you to meet with friends of mine in the U.S. Marshals service. They can give you a new identity and life. One where you don’t have to hide.”

Surprise jerked her head back. “The government knows about the Kurjans?”

“Ah, well, a few key members in the Marshals service know—and they’re willing to help you, in exchange for your silence.” He waited ... patiently, intently.

No one had ever focused so completely on her before. There was no escaping or hiding from him. She sighed. “I think the world should know about the Kurjans.”

“Yeah. I figured that out from the website and blog you started the second you escaped from Brancrest.” He rubbed his chin. “Both have been taken down.”

The statement didn’t surprise her. “Did you take them down?”

“No. I think my friend, Conn, took them down. You’ll meet him in a few minutes.”

Great. She couldn’t wait to meet good old Conn. The guy was probably one of those trendy computer nerds who could take over the entire internet if he wanted. Sarah had more immediate worries than her website. “What if I refuse to go with you?” Unease replaced interest in her stomach. How far would the government go to keep the secret? How far would Max go?

Regret firmed his jaw. “You’re finished talking publicly about the Kurjans, Sarah.” He held up a hand when she gasped. “I’m sorry. But you should understand.”

“They’d kill me? You’d kill me?”

“Of course not.” His frown reminded her of the storm the previous night—dark and dangerous.

“Sorry.” Geez. Her imagination was running crazy.

“But I would put you somewhere you couldn’t talk about the Kurjans. Whether your government liked it or not.”

Embarrassment turned to irritation. “Excuse me?”

He lifted a shoulder. “Bottom line is you choose your new life. Freedom or limited freedom—either way you stop blogging and searching for proof the Kurjans exist.” No apology, no leeway existed in his firm words.

“Wait a minute. What did you mean—my government?” Her mind spun. He wasn’t from her government? “God. Are we working with the Russians?”

He chuckled, grabbing her arm and heading toward the door. “Woman, you jump to the oddest conclusions. We’re leaving. Now.”

She tripped on the way out, struggling to keep up with his long strides. “Where is the Marshals service?”

“Portland.” He paused at the stairs, reaching to place one of her hands on the rail. “Don’t fall.”

“You have got to stop manhandling me.” The view stopped her. Miles and miles of pine trees spread out, alone and majestic. Beautiful. A helicopter waited in a clearing toward the base of the tower.

“Sorry.” He tugged her down the steps and along a rough trail. “I hope you like to fly.”

“Hate it.” She had since the first time her brother told her how many people died in fiery plane crashes. Didn’t help she was only eight and on the way to Disneyland. Andrew had been fifteen, and mean even then.

“Bummer.” Max opened the back door of a massive black beast and lifted her inside. She scooted out of the way for him to jump inside. Two men turned to view her. She fought a gasp. They were huge. They were all freakin’ huge.

Max let out a growl. “What the hell are you doing here?”

The pilot shot him a grin. “Nice to see you, too.”

“Damn it. I left you in charge of Janie.” Max yanked the door shut so hard the craft rocked.

The pilot shrugged. “I figure her father and Dage can handle her safety ... along with Kane and about thirty other soldiers. Why are you so cranky?”

Did the hulk just use the word “cranky”? Sarah bit her lip.

Max shook his head. “Sarah, meet Conn.” He nodded to the co-pilot. “This is his brother, Jase.”

“Ma’am,” the men said at the same time.

“Hi.” Sarah settled back into the seat. Who were these guys? Hard, fit, huge ... ultimate soldiers?

She studied them through half-closed eyes. They had similar bone structure. Both had brown hair with dark eyes. Too dark and not quite believable as real. Contacts?

In fact, their eyes were the same shade as Max’s. Except his had been lighter last night. Had he worn contacts during the day? She wondered if all soldiers on a mission hid their true eye color, and if they were soldiers, who did they work for?

Conn frowned, his gaze raking her. “She’s enhanced.”

Sarah shrunk back. “How do you know that?” Things had just gotten too weird. She eyed the door on her side of the craft.

Max reached across her, securing a seat belt and effectively trapping her. “I’m aware of that.”

Conn nodded, thoughtfulness pursing his lips. “So, not a coincidence. Any of this.”

Max shrugged. “Maybe ... maybe not. I figured we’d explore the issue when we interview her later.”

Interview her? Sarah turned toward him, eyes widening. “What are you talking about?” Soldiers used euphemisms. Interview really meant interrogate. Were these the good guys?

Max rubbed his jaw. “Interview. You know—ask questions. We need to understand what happened the night you saw the Kurjan. The parts you left out of your blog.”

“And if I don’t tell you?” she whispered, ice slithering down her spine.

“That would be unwise.” He frowned. “I would have no choice but to tickle you.”

Jase let out a bark of laughter.

Conn cut his eyes to Jase and then back to Max. “Did you just make a joke?”

“I’m very funny.” Max clicked his own seat belt into place. “Now, why are you here, and not searching Brancrest, Conn?”

Conn sighed, turning to flip buttons on the dash. “There are no records, schematics, or even drawings of Brancrest. We sent a squad in three days ago, and it failed. The men had no luck finding Sarah’s files—at least not as quietly as Dage wants.”

“We should just blow the place up,” Jase muttered.

“No.” Conn shrugged. “Dage wants this quiet, so we do it quietly.”

Max shook his head. “I don’t like where this is going.”

Jase glanced at Sarah. “We need her for the interior, for the layout of the building. There are no records, Max.”

“Don’t care.”

Both of Jase’s eyebrows rose. “You making a claim?”

Heat slid up Sarah’s face. They may be speaking in odd soldier lingo, but she could decipher that. A tiny part of her rose up in curiosity. Was he?

Max cleared his throat. “She stays safe.”

Not exactly an answer. Sarah leaned forward. “You want me to show you around Brancrest?” She’d vowed never to return to the crazy place.

“Yes.” Conn flipped another knob, and the rotor kicked into gear. “We need your records—everything you’ve said about the Kurjans. There can’t be a trail.”

She’d barely escaped once. The idea of the stupid drugs, those that made life hazy and kept her from shielding her gift, made her want to jump out of the helicopter.

The huge bird lifted into the air.

Chapter 4

Like any good insane asylum, Brancrest sprawled across lonely acres of trees, bushes, and rolling hills. It had been built by the millionaire Brancrest for his English bride, before the wilds of the surrounding land had taken them both. The Brancrests had disappeared within two years of residency, leaving no heirs.

The state gleefully took over—needing a place to house crazies. The stone buildings had stood for a hundred years; ancient compared to most buildings in the Pacific Northwest. The smooth stones had absorbed stories about tortured souls, zany old aunts, and those like Sarah, who’d been contained after a traumatic event. She shivered as the helicopter passed over the main building.

A heavy hand settled over hers, infusing warmth and strength along her knuckles. Safety. She turned toward Max. His gaze searched her face and then he ... winked.

Humor bubbled up, and she grinned. She could love the guy. The idea whispered in from nowhere. Love? Clearing her throat, she turned back to the window, catching her breath as they descended onto a field out of sight of the building.

The men jumped out, and Max held a hand to assist her. Heat flared up her arm from his palm. She sighed in relief when he released her. Yet she felt bereft.

Smooth as an assembly line, the men shoved guns, knives, and even stars into vest pockets, like they’d done so a million times before. Turmoil swept along her skin with the breeze.

Jase handed her a green gun. “Don’t shoot me.”

“Okay.” She took the heavy metal. No vibrations wandered up her arm. Apparently Jase was as safe as Max from her gift. Who the hell were these guys? Fear made her hand tremble. Cold, the weapon—an instrument of death—was the first gun she’d ever held. Tears pricked the back of her eyes.

Max swiftly grabbed it. “I’m assuming you shoot like you fight?”

She frowned. “I don’t understand.”

He nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” He tucked the gun at the back of his waist. “Just stay behind me.”

She didn’t want the gun anyway. “Um, why are we taking so many weapons? I mean, nobody here is armed.” Sure, they had needles and stuff, but the men’s knives were overkill.

Jase flashed her a quick smile. It was charming and probably meant to be disarming. “We like to be prepared. You never know.” He sheathed a wicked jagged-edged blade along his calf, under dark cargo pants.

Conn twirled a narrower knife. “I’m assuming the main offices are in the big buildings?”

“Yes.” Sarah cleared her throat. “There are no phones, no way for inmates to reach the outside.”

Those protocols existed for the inmates’ “protection.” The doctors were old and stuck in their ways. One had tried everything to cure her—to convince her she’d imagined the monster. He was wrong. Kurjans existed. She straightened her spine. Huge relief settled along her shoulders that she was sane after all.

Jase reached into the front seat of the helicopter, brought out a notebook, and placed it in her hands. “Would you diagram the building?”

“Um, maybe.” She shoved hair out of her face and began to sketch. “The dorms are adjacent to the main building, which houses the treatment rooms, meeting rooms, and the doctors’ offices. When you first go inside, the reception area has a bunch of couches and a huge fireplace; I think to put visitors at ease.” She kept drawing.

“Where would your records be kept?” Max asked.

“East side of the building—first floor in Dr. Robard’s office as well as the main records room on the third floor.” She drew a path, wincing at the rough lines. Drawing had never been a talent. “Though, frankly, I just don’t get this. Why do you guys really want my records?”

Conn cracked his neck. “I’m assuming your records contain the same information you put on that website trying to find information on the Kurjans. You called them vampires.”

“They are.” Fangs, white faces, evil eyes—of course they were vampires. “It makes sense. Most myths have a foundation in truth.” She shot Conn a hard look. “Max said you had my website and blog taken down.”

Jase flashed her a grin. “I took the site down ... after leaving a final entry that you’d sold your made-up story to a publisher—that your gimmick worked.” He tied his thick hair back at the neck with a rubber band. “For the record, they’re not vampires.”

Max tucked a hand around her arm, gently leading her toward the trees. “Let’s get the information and I’ll explain everything. For now, you need to understand we can’t have any information out there about the Kurjans.”

“The vampires.”

“They’re not vampires.” All three men made the statement at once.

She shrugged, peering around a large blue spruce at the imposing building. “I know what I saw.” Finally. For a brief time, she’d wondered. No longer. “I take it we’re going in the front door?”

Max scratched his head. “Um, yeah. The direct approach.”

Realization snapped her head up. “I’m your way in. I mean—”

“Yep.” Jase stepped into the sun, his gaze thoughtful on the stone building reflecting the light. “We’re taking you back in, Sarah.”

“But we won’t leave you.” Max stalked forward, intimidating and reassuring, maneuvering up the rough asphalt drive. Crickets chirped in the distance, and closer, a robin sang.

Why the hell hadn’t she figured that out? How else would they get inside? Guns blazing and blades flinging into the peaceful watercolors lining every hallway? She fought a hysterical laugh. It was crazy. She was allowing them to take her back. A glance down at the thick hand banded around her arm negated that fact. No choice had been given. “Why is this so important?” she whispered, tripping in her tennis shoes.

They came to a stop before the oak double doors. Max studied the keypad embedded in the stone. “The information out there could get a good friend of mine killed. He’s also my boss.”

She frowned. “Why? I mean ... oh God. He’s not a vampire, is he?”

Jase started. Conn went still. She shoved away from Max. “Is your boss a Kurjan or not?”

“No. He’s definitely not a Kurjan.” Max exhaled. “You have my word.”

Jase’s cheerful smile disappeared. “His boss is my brother, and if our, ah, allies discover he let such dangerous information loose, they’ll take him out. We’re trying to prevent war.” Determination and strength replaced the good-natured grin he’d worn since she met him.

“Your allies don’t sound like allies.” She elbowed Max, trying to get some air. The sheer size of the guys brought on claustrophobia. “Which government are you with, anyway?” Enough with the secrets.

Max shrugged. “We’re the good guys.”

“Everyone thinks they’re the good guys. Especially the bad guys,” Sarah muttered.

Amusement filtered across Max’s face. “You’re not wrong.”

No kidding. Sarah straightened her sweater, wiping her feet on a worn rug in front of the door. “Let’s get this over with.” Three deep breaths later, her shields slammed carefully into place. No crazy vibrations or images were taking her down. Besides, she needed to concentrate. If the soldiers left her alone inside, she could escape the same way as last time. But something whispered in her consciousness that these three wouldn’t be as easy to outrun as the Brancrest orderlies.

Max pressed the button on the keypad, announcing they had a meeting with Dr. Robard.

A buzzer sounded and the door slid inward, revealing the strategically designed reception room. A nurse dressed in light blue scrubs hustled around the leather sofa, charts in her hands. “You said Dr. Robard is expecting you?” She took a good look at the three men and stopped cold, a red flush shooting across her cheekbones. “Oh my.”

“He’s not expecting us”—Max gently hauled Sarah before him—“but we were sent to retrieve a missing patient of his.”

Adrenaline ripped through Sarah’s veins. Her breath caught in her lungs like the oxygen had turned to lead. The scent of bleach and desperation hung heavy in the building, and she fought a whimper. Run. She needed to run.

A heavy hand descended on her shoulder, smoothing down her spine gently and with reassurance.

Her legs trembled with the urge to step back into Max’s strength. Instead, she lifted her chin. “Hello there, Nurse Whitcome. Still a complete bitch?” The blond wench had been gleeful when administering shots.

Jase snorted.

“Oh. Miss Pringle.” Whitcome smiled wide, revealing pearly teeth all the way to the gum line. “How nice to see you again. We’ve made improvements in night checks and medication regimens. You won’t escape again.”

“You are a bitch,” Max said mildly to the nurse. “Now get Robard before you really piss me off.”

As the color slithered away from Whitcome’s face, Jase flashed Max a surprised look and bit his lip against another grin.

No way was Sarah turning to view what had scared the sadistic nurse. Max could probably be quite threatening when he wanted. Odd that she wasn’t afraid of him. The memory of him softly wiping off her scrape the previous day flashed through her mind.

Whitcome pivoted on her sensible nurse shoes. “I’ll take you to Dr. Robard’s office.” Her quick stomps shook her ample butt as she led the way.

Sarah straightened her shoulders to follow. “He’s not going to give you the records,” she whispered.

“Yes, he will,” Max whispered back.

Someone screamed, high and loud, in the recesses of the building. Insanity echoed in the shriek. Sarah halted, resuming only when Max nudged her shoulder. Pretty watercolors adorned the hallway, but the industrial tiles lining the floor with their squiggly black lines kept drawing her attention. The tiles sparkled under the fluorescent lights, yet somehow seemed stained with despair. She shook off the depressing thought.

“This place would make anybody crazy,” Max muttered.

The nurse stopped next to a narrow oak door, knocked, and then pushed it open. “Dr. Robard, Miss Pringle has returned.” With a sniff, she hustled away.

Sarah led the way inside. “Hi, Doctor.”

The door closed, the three towering soldiers forming an impenetrable wall behind her.

Robard’s salt and pepper hair matched his trimmed beard. He sat behind files and papers piled high on a smudged glass and chrome desk. The color slid from his face. He half stood, his sharp gray eyes dilating. “Miss Pringle. It’s good to see you safe.”

“Thanks. It’s just great to be back.”

“I, ah, don’t understand.” Robard retook his seat, allowing his gaze to aim behind her.

“Her family hired us to retrieve Miss Pringle and her records before transferring her to a different facility.” Conn yanked paperwork out of his pocket, unfolding several sheets to hand to the doctor. “You’ll see everything is in order. Her family asked us to bring her here first, since you need to formally discharge her.”

What a load of crap. Sarah struggled to keep her face placid.

“I don’t think so.” Robard rubbed his chin. “I can certainly copy and send her records to you, but I’m not just handing them over.” His gaze darted around the room.

The guy wasn’t stupid. He’d believed Andrew’s lies, but that was no surprise. Her brother was an excellent liar. While the doctor had never been mean, he’d never even considered she had been telling the truth.

“I have the right to my records, Doctor.” Probably. There had to be some federal law that gave her that right.

“Actually”—he cleared his throat, sweat pooling on his brow—“considering there’s a hearing tomorrow regarding your competency, you don’t have the right.”

Wow. The doctor had always seemed so calm and cool—soldiers must scare him. Even his hands trembled as he closed a file, patting the cover.

Max stepped forward. “What do you mean, competency hearing?” Anger and concern rode his tone.

Sarah frowned. “I assume my jerk of a brother is having me declared incompetent so he can take over the family stock holdings.” Andrew had sent her to Brancrest for the three-month evaluation—after gaining a court order allowing it. He’d obviously jumped right into having her declared incompetent, thus giving himself power of attorney.

Jase growled low. “What about the Pringle Pharmaceutical stock? She can’t transfer ownership to us?”

She took a step back. Son of a bitch. This was about her grandfather’s company? Hurt slid under the anger. Max had kissed her. Acted like he genuinely liked her. “You’re not getting my stock.”

Max turned to face her, his jaw hardening until it looked like solid rock. “Want to bet?”

That was it. “I’ll help you gain my records from here, then I’m on my own.” She glared at Jase. “The main records room is on the third floor, north corner. Look for the orange cabinets. Everything is in old manila files. There’s also an internal computer system with records.”

“I can blow that.” Jase rubbed his hands together. “Good-bye computer system.”

He and Conn slipped out the door.

Sarah focused on the doctor and leaned both hands atop the desk, leaving clear handprints. “I want my records. Now.”

A door to the side of Robard’s desk opened, a gun leading the way. “I’m afraid I already have those.” White faced with red hair having black tips, a Kurjan flashed sharp fangs.

Chapter 5

Sarah opened her mouth, unable to scream.

Faster than her brain could catch up, Max whisked her behind him, leaping for the intruder. The gun discharged, ripping into Max and sending him sprawling in the wide guest chair. He bounded up, hurdled the desk, and sent papers spiraling.

He caught the Kurjan around the middle. They crashed into the side door, splintering the wood into pieces. Odd green lasers shot from the gun, forming round holes in the ceiling. Max pummeled the weapon and it spiraled in the air, landing under the guest chair. Punches so fast they blurred together were followed by pained grunts.

The Kurjan was several inches taller than Max, who had to be at least six foot seven. Yet, Max had bulk. Fast, well-trained bulk. He connected with an elbow in the Kurjan’s swirling purple eyes, following with a punch that cracked the Kurjan’s ribs. They popped like sparks in a fire.

Dr. Robard jumped up and skirted the desk, smacking into Sarah. “Run.” His long, tapered fingers dug into her arms. “Run, damn it.”

Frozen, she couldn’t move, her gaze on the deadly fight.

The Kurjan wrapped his legs around Max’s waist and twisted to the side, throwing him against the wall. Then he started toward her.

She shrieked.

Max flipped to his feet, grabbing the Kurjan by the belt and yanking him back.

Sarah turned to run, tangling her feet with Dr. Robard’s and smashing him into the chair. They crashed to the ground in a tangle of arms and legs. Her chin landed on his shoulder. Pain cascaded through her face. Holy hell, that hurt.

Robard sprawled beneath her, his glasses askew. She shook her head, levering onto her hands and knees. Cold tile chilled her palms as she tried to regain her balance. Panting, she scrambled back and turned her head toward the fight.

Max lifted the Kurjan, swung his torso, and slammed the monster onto the desk. Glass shattered. Sarah ducked, yelping when a piece cut into her shoulder. She grabbed the chair and pulled herself to stand.

The Kurjan flopped to the floor unconscious, landing between the chrome legs of the desk. Blood ran down his impossibly white face and into his thick hair.

Max panted, blood dripping off his chin. “How many more are here?”

Dr. Robard scooted back, pulling his legs away from Sarah’s feet before standing. He wiped sweat off his forehead. “He’s the only one. Been waiting for you two hours. Hiding in the closet.”

Sarah rounded on the doctor. “So. Believe me now?”

“Yes.” Sorrow filled the doctor’s intelligent eyes.

Wait a minute. Sarah slowly pivoted to face Max. “You knew. All the guns, knives, and weapons were because you knew he might be here.”

Max shrugged. “When your website went down, it made sense we’d come for your records. They probably sent this guy after we escaped from the motel. So, yeah, it was a possibility.”

Sulfur scented the air. Faster than a whisper, the Kurjan lunged for Max, stabbing a blade into his shoulder and a fist into his face. Max stumbled back, fangs shooting out his mouth. He growled, grabbing the Kurjan and throwing him through the double-paned window.

The animal screamed as sun bit into his flesh. Blisters erupted on his skin. Smoke billowed up, and he sank to the ground. Dead.

Max slowly turned to face her, fangs out, one eye a bright pink, the other the muddy brown.

A vampire. A real vampire. Sarah’s ears filled with a dull roar. She stepped back as a haze dropped over her vision. Then the world turned dark and she dropped to the floor.

Sarah awoke as the helicopter landed and the rotor died away. She blinked. Warmth surrounded her. Strong arms held her, and a steady heartbeat thumped against her ear. The scent of fresh cedar filled her senses. Max. Her butt rested on his thighs. The desire she’d been combating flared to life again.

Reality slammed spikes beneath her eyelids. Vampire. The man was a monster. She shoved him, struggling.

The side door opened and he stepped out onto a rooftop. His boots crunched gravel. The wind whipped into her hair. One hand cupped her head, pressing her into his chest. “Settle down, Milaya. You’re safe.”

A muffled sob rose from her chest. She shut her eyes. Concentrate . She needed to focus to get out of this mess. Tight muscles shifted and Max maneuvered out of the wind, quickly descending a flight of stairs and dodging through a doorway. He removed his hand and Sarah lifted her head.

Fall-colored patterned wallpaper covered the walls, reminding her of the principal’s office at the elementary school where she used to teach. Inside the penthouse of a hotel, Max took long strides across marble to place her gently on an embroidered sofa. Then he backed slowly away.

She scooted to the edge in case she needed to run. Vibrations wandered through her ... slow and lazy. The couch was new. The person—a woman—who’d hand embroidered the intricate leaves had enjoyed the process, humming the entire time. Sarah settled herself. “You were shot and stabbed.”

“I heal fast.”

The view of Mt. Rainier out the floor-to-ceiling windows caught her eye and she turned her head. “So. Vampires have money, huh?” Sarah focused back on him.

His grin matched the humor in his eyes. His bourbon-colored eyes were much lighter and more animated than the contacts he’d been wearing. “You’re a spunky one, Sarah.” Warmth and approval coated his gravelly voice.

“And you’re a sneaky, lying, money grabbing ... vampire.” Anger darted through her so quickly her skin tingled. She leaped to her feet. To think she’d been attracted to him. Yeah. Past tense. She had been attracted to him. Her body called her a liar. Lying to herself was perfectly acceptable.

“Well.” He ran a hand through his thick hair, leaving it sexy and rumpled. “I’ve been upfront, honest, and have no interest in your money. I just haven’t told you everything.”

“You’re a vampire”—or she’d suffered a psychotic break at Brancrest and was in some odd coma—“which is probably why my gift doesn’t work. Why I can’t get images from things you touch.”

“Yeah, sounds right to me.” He glanced down at the rips and tears in his dark shirt. “I’m a vampire and we’re at war with the Kurjans.”

Thoughts zinged around her head like a ball in a pinball machine. “But, you have scars. Aren’t you immortal?”

“I’m immortal—except I can be beheaded or lose all my blood and go brain dead.” His eyes sizzled as he met her gaze. “The scars. Well, we can scar, but it takes some serious effort. I was young.”

Sadness washed through her. She steeled her spine. It was not the time to waver or feel sorry for him. “You’re a vampire .”

“Yeah. We are the good guys, Sarah—and we need your help.”

Oh no, he didn’t. “I helped you already. You have my loony bin records.” Thoughts zinged through her mind until she gasped. “Wait a minute. What did you do with Dr. Robard?” He’d drugged her and had refused to believe her, but the guy meant well. He’d probably helped a lot of truly crazy people. The vampires wouldn’t have killed him to keep their secret, right?

“The doctor is fine.” Max stalked over to a polished dining table and began removing his weapons, dropping them with soft plunks.

She eyed a gun. If she could get past him—

“Don’t even think about it.” Irritation and warning filled his tone.

“Promise me you didn’t kill the doctor.”

“I promise.” His weapons removed, Max yanked the shirt over his head. A nearly healed wound marred his right shoulder. Tanned skin covered hard muscle, his abs tapering to a trim waist. So male.

Sarah’s abdomen heated. Her thighs softened. She shook her head. Her body might want the man, but her brain knew better. “Did you turn the doctor into a vampire?” God, were they going to turn her into a vampire? The idea of tasting someone’s blood made her want to hurl.

Max snorted. “You can’t turn someone into a vampire. We’re born, not made. Just another species on earth.”

Well. That was a new one. “Are vampires and Kurjans related?”

“No. We have the same number of chromosomes, but we’re too different. We must be different races.” He growled the last, as if maybe trying to convince himself as well as her.

“Chromosomes?”

“Yeah. Both vampires and Kurjans have thirty chromosomal pairs.” Max poked at the wound. “Sit down, Sarah. We need to talk.”

She eyed the stack of weapons and sat. “You drink blood?” Was he going to drink hers?

“We need blood like you do. But we only drink blood once in a while, either in battle ... or sex.”

Her body reacted to his low voice, her nipples sharpening into hard points. Sex and biting. Who knew? She sucked in air. “The sun doesn’t kill you?”

“Nope. We’re fine with the sun. But it does kill the Kurjans. Now, we need to talk.”

The man wanted to talk, did he? “My entire reality has come crashing down, numerous times. What bizarre facts do you want to hit me with now, Max?”

“ ‘There are no facts, only interpretations.’ ” He dropped onto the matching love seat.

“Seriously? You’re quoting Nietzsche?” Good looking, tough, and well learned. Who the hell was Max?

“Sorry.” He sighed, rubbing a hand over his chin. “I’ve been studying to teach Janie—the educational television shows aren’t enough. I’m not doing a good enough job with her. Besides, I like Nietzsche.”

“Are your eyes metallic brown or pink?” The question slipped out before Sarah could bite it back. Damn curiosity.

“Both. Vampires have a main eye color and tributary colors that emerge when we’re emotional or stressed.”

“Weird.”

The door opened, and Conn loped to the dining room table, twirled a chair around and sat. “So. Let’s talk.” Dark green, almost metallic, eyes flashed.

“You’re a vampire, too.” Sarah shoved back into the sofa, crossing her legs. Dignity—she needed class and dignity—then she’d stake them. That legend had to be correct. A wooden stake through the heart would kill them. Probably.

“Yes. As is Jase, and our brother, Dage, who is also our king.” Conn nodded.

“The king you’re trying to save.” She glanced at the table of weapons. No stake there. “I need a stake.”

Conn shrugged. “Stakes don’t kill us.”

Well, that figured. She sighed. “Where is Jase?”

“Going through your records in the adjacent penthouse.” Max leaned forward. “Tell us about the night you saw the Kurjan, Sarah.”

Chills swept down her back. She clasped her shaking hands together in her lap. While she didn’t want to discuss it, there was no reason to hide anything, especially since Jase was currently reading Dr. Robard’s reports. “Fine. I went to my brother’s office one night to ask him about the latest financial report from the Mercury lab. The head office is kept separate from the labs, and Andrew works there in downtown Seattle.”

Sarah’s grandfather had raised her and Andrew when their mother had abandoned them. He left the majority of stock in the pharmaceutical research company to her, but Andrew ran the business as the CFO. She had always wanted to teach, and her grandfather had strongly encouraged her to follow her dreams. “The company will always be here, Bella,” he had said, his strong voice reassuring and safe.

Memories flooded into Sarah, and she caressed the threaded embroidery on the couch, allowing the seamstress’s joy to comfort her. “I should’ve had Andrew removed years ago. But I felt sorry for him. He’d already been through hell when Grandpa took us in.” Max had been through hell as a kid, too. Yet he’d turned a bad childhood around, becoming a protector. Maybe she should’ve cut ties with Andrew years ago.

She sighed. “The reports showed an outlandish amount of funding being allocated to research, and that didn’t make any sense. There were no protocols, no blind studies, nothing.” Her voice shook, and she coughed the nervousness out.

Max reached over and placed a calloused hand over hers.

For a brief moment, she allowed the warm strength to reassure her. “Well, that night I got to the top floor and heard noises from the smaller conference room. Figuring Andrew was inside, I headed that way.” She’d do almost anything to take that moment back. Just turn around and leave.

“What did you see?” Max asked quietly.

“Well, I turned a corner and ran smack into Lila Smythe, who was one of our marketing analysts.” A pretty redhead, the thirty-year-old had been with the company for nearly five years. The terror in her eyes as she grabbed Sarah would forever haunt her. “Lila was trying to get to the elevator very quietly. She shoved me and whispered we had to run.” So much fear had been in her terse voice Sarah hadn’t even questioned the woman. They’d run back to the elevator and pressed the DOWN button.

Sarah took a deep breath. “Male voices rose, arguing, and one was yelling something about a virus and how the vampires had found a way to stop the catalyst. That he needed the new data. None of it made any sense to me. Andrew stormed out of the conference room followed by ...” Her voice trailed off as she hesitated. God. She knew what to call him now. “A Kurjan.”

Max flipped her hand around, tangling their fingers. “What happened next, Sarah?”

“We pounded on the elevator door.” They’d pounded so hard. “The door finally opened. Fast. He moved so fast.” In less than a second the Kurjan reached Lila, hauling her up. “He sank his teeth, I mean fangs, into Lila’s neck, and pulled.” Blood. So much blood squirted out and Lila’s head rolled to the floor.

Sarah gagged. She slapped a hand over her mouth, sucking air through her nose.

“Deep breath, sweetheart. You’ve got it.” In one smooth movement, Max deserted his spot on the love seat and sat next to her on the sofa, dropping a heavy arm over her shoulders. “Keep breathing.”

Conn leaned forward, an odd silver ripping through his green eyes. “What then?”

Andrew rounded the corner, his hair mussed, his face pale. He stopped short. “I thought Andrew would help me.” Sure, they’d never been close. “But, he didn’t,” she whispered. Andrew glared at the Kurjan and asked how the hell he was supposed to clean up the mess. “The Kurjan’s name was Erik.”

Conn exhaled. “Interesting.” He cut his gaze to Max. “Franco’s brother, the scientist, is named Erik.” Conn focused back on Sarah. “Franco is the Kurjan leader.”

Max gave a short nod. “How did you get away, sweetheart?”

“I jumped inside the elevator just as the door was closing. I went immediately to the police station to report everything about the killing, a virus, and vampires. The police didn’t believe me.” Yet they’d sent a car to check out the scene.

“What about Lila?” Max asked.

Weariness lowered Sarah’s shoulders. “The police found her, right where she died. Andrew had an alibi—said he wasn’t even there.” She’d always wondered how much he’d had to pay his three poker buddies, one a retired judge, for the solid alibi. “The police determined I wasn’t strong enough to decapitate someone like that.” So they’d started searching for a dangerous killer.

She bit her lip to keep it from trembling. “I was taken for psychiatric evaluation that didn’t go well.”

“You ended up at Brancrest for a three-month evaluation.” Max rubbed her shoulder.

“Yes. I lasted two months before escaping.” There were too many surfaces to touch. Too many tortured souls had left memories in the objects there. “Several times I wondered if I had imagined what happened, if I was crazy.”

“You’re not,” Max said.

Maybe. The fact that her body flared to life the second he sat next to her spoke of some insanity. They were from different species. “So, what now?”

Conn studied her, somehow looking more dangerous in the plush penthouse than he had hiding knives in his boots earlier. “Now? Well, the plan was to buy your stock. We need the data from the Mercury lab of Pringle Pharmaceuticals.”

“Why?”

Conn glanced up, lifting an eyebrow. “Max?”

“She knows most of it.” Max pivoted her to face him. “The Kurjans have created a genetic virus that attacks our mates and messes with their chromosomal pairs, taking them from a vampire mate down to human form, or lower.”

“Mates?” The word set butterflies alive in her stomach. “So your mates have more chromosomal pairs than a human?”

“Yes. We mate a human, and her pairs rise to twenty-seven.”

How in the hell was that possible? “Do you have a mate?”

“No.”

Hope. It leaped through her veins, followed by true irritation. She didn’t care if Max had a mate. A sigh escaped her. She liked the guy. Vampire or not. “What does this have to do with my company?”

Max stretched his neck. “A catalyst speeds up the virus. Our scientists managed to create a protein that binds to the catalyst and stops it ... just in time to save a pregnant mate. But, well, we used some human scientists to do the work—even though they had no clue what they were working on.”

“So?” What was wrong with humans? Sarah frowned. She was human.

“One of them saw potential in the data regarding the protein and sent it to a colleague at your Mercury lab.” Conn grabbed a cell phone out of his pocket. “The colleague combined our protein with an antiviral he was working on for an AIDS treatment, and basically negated the protein’s binding power. Made it useless—so it can’t bind to anything, much less the catalyst. We intercepted the data last week, a day after you’d escaped. Your blog and website showed up, and Max came to find you.”

A loud exhale rippled the muscles in Max’s chest. “We need that data so we have time to figure out the flaw in the catalyst cure before the Kurjans do. They’ll try to infect mates and then we won’t have time to slow the virus before it goes too far.”

She rubbed her eyes with her free hand. “Why not just take the data?” The guys were soldiers. Surely they could break into a lab.

Max’s hand tightened on hers. “Believe it or not, your Mercury lab has the best security measures we’ve ever seen. It’s designated a Homeland Security Research site. We’d likely blow the building up trying to get inside, which we can’t do. Neither can the Kurjans.”

She’d seen the financials for the Mercury lab—no wonder the budget was so high. “What about Andrew? He has access, right?”

“Nope.” Conn read the screen of his cell phone. “He’s CFO of the company, but since Mercury lab also works on U.S. government contracts, the safeguards in that particular lab aren’t known to him. He’s a businessman, not a researcher.”

Max nodded. “Only the owner, or rather, the majority stockholder, can insist on access—which, for the time being, is you.”

“Until the hearing tomorrow.” If Sarah was found incompetent, Andrew would get control of the stock and either sell to the Kurjans or get them access to the data.

“Right.” Conn replaced his cell phone. “We need to prove you’re not crazy.”

Max shook his head. “Not we, buddy. You’re off to Ireland. Go get your mate.”

Sarah tilted her head to the side. She so wanted to know more about this mating stuff, but would ask Max later. “Ireland?”

“Yes.” Conn stood. “I gave her time to, ah, finish schooling before bringing her home. Her time is up.” Three steps had him at the door. “You’re right, Max. But I’m leaving Jase here for backup.” He turned, and those fathomless green eyes darkened. “You’re a very brave woman, Sarah. Thank you for helping us.”

Panic flashed through her as the vampire left. Brave? Not in a million years. Desperate enough to fight? Sure.

Quiet descended. “So.” She kept her gaze on the closed door. “How are we going to prove my sanity?”

“We have a plan.” Max hauled her off the couch.

The world tilted, and she fought the urge to burrow into his warmth. He carried her through the spacious penthouse to the bedroom, and gently released her legs so her feet met the plush carpet. “For now, you get some sleep.” A quick brush of his lips, and he shut the door.

Alone again. Her mouth burned, and the sensitive skin at the back of her knees tingled from his hold. She had two options. One, escape and get the hell away from the mess. Two, seduce the vampire and give in to the painful demand of her body.

Either choice ... danger.

Chapter 6

Monsters—big, white-faced monsters—chased Sarah through a lab made of stone. She cried out and backed into a cabinet, her gaze wide on the advancing Kurjan. His fingers morphed into needles. Big, dangerous, vampire killing needles. She screamed.

“Sarah. Milaya, wake up.” Gentle hands shook her shoulders.

The scent of cedar filled her nostrils. She opened her eyes, and the sight of male filled them. “Max.” She relaxed with a sigh.

Soft moonlight danced over his face, creating rugged valleys. One button held his shirt together, as if he’d grabbed it before entering the bedroom. He sat on the bed. “You had a bad dream.”

She scooted to a sitting position, resting her back against the upholstered headboard. Vibrations from a man reading a mystery novel wandered through her, and she shoved them away. Apparently the last person to touch the headboard had been alone. Thank goodness. She’d sat on the bed for a moment to think. Exhaustion sucked. “I fell asleep.”

“That’s good.” Max slipped off her tennis shoes with quick movements. He gently rubbed the arch of each foot, and she fought a groan at the exquisite pleasure.

“Go back to sleep—under the covers this time.” He placed her foot back on the bed and stood up, heading toward the door.

“Would you stay?” she asked quietly.

He stopped. His shoulders tensed, and he didn’t turn around. “I’m not in the mood for cuddling, Sarah.”

“Neither am I.” Something inside her calmed. He was big and strong. She wanted him—more than she’d ever wanted any man. “I’m in the mood for you.”

He pivoted, his metallic eyes darkening. “Sarah, there’s a lot you don’t understand.” Reason filled his tone, while color slashed across his cheekbones. Desire. Lust. Oh, he wanted her.

“Yeah. You dole out information sparingly.” Unease flushed through her. “I’m not easy, Max. I mean, I don’t usually extend an invite.” She’d had two lovers in her twenty-eight years of life. She could barely remember what they looked like when faced with a male such as Max.

A wicked smile quirked his lips. “I don’t think you’re easy. In fact, you’re sexy as hell.”

On him, the bad-boy look was more deadly than dangerous.

Yet instead of fear, raw need rippled under her skin. “So. Can this happen without you turning me into a vampire?” She aimed for amused and sophisticated, but her tone emerged breathless. Needy.

He lifted a shoulder. “I already told you. Vampires are born, not made. No one can ever turn you into a vampire.”

“What about a mate?” The question slipped out before she could bite it back.

“I won’t mate you.” His jaw firmed.

Hurt swirled through her, surprising in its intensity. She’d asked for only the night—but he could’ve wanted more. “So you’re offering a fuck, not a future?”

He stilled. The air thickened. “Talk like that, sweetheart, and I’m offering a spanking.”

She fought a gasp. He’d threatened her. That shouldn’t be sexy. Temper lifted her chin. Intrigue sped up her heart rate. Temper won. “Don’t worry, Max. I’ve changed my mind. You can go mate any eighteen-year-old bimbo you want.” She bit her lip.

“No, I can’t.” The dark amusement in his voice spiraled her temper further.

His gaze dropped to her nipples—her hard, pebbled, needy nipples. He took a step forward, fists clenching. Electric pink shot through the brown when his gaze rose. “Vampires are male only. Many of our mates are human. Enhanced females.”

He took another step closer, visibly making himself stop. “They’re few and far between.”

His voice, so dark, so sexy, warmed her blood. Her chest rose with quick breaths. She tried to control the breathing, but an awakening in her abdomen took over. She hadn’t felt anything for either Jase or Conn, and they were vampires. Only Max. That had to mean something. “So I’m a potential mate? One of the few?”

“Yes.”

Confusion slowed the thoughts in her head. “Even so, I’m not for you.” Geez. It wasn’t like she’d offered the guy forever.

“No.” He tucked his hands in his back pockets. “I’m not taking a mate, sweetheart.”

She rolled her eyes. “Ah, I get it. Your job is too dangerous. . . you’re a lone wolf ... you don’t deserve love.” Throwing out all the lame reasons from a romance novel she’d read lately, she let sarcasm loose.

He lifted an eyebrow. “Remember that spanking? My palm is beginning to itch.”

Vulnerability warred with need. She twisted, placing her feet on the floor, scrunching her toes into the carpet. “I’m not afraid of you.”

“Then you’re not as smart as I thought.” He toed off his boots. “In response to what you said”—he held up his forefinger—“first, my job is dangerous, but I’d protect you.” He raised another finger. “Second, I’m nowhere near a wolf—lone or otherwise. Believe me, I know a couple. And finally”—he held up three fingers—“love is something I’ve never understood.”

He was matter-of-fact about the last part. How sad.

“So that’s why you don’t want a mate?”

“No.” He tugged his shirt over his head. “Our mates are in danger—much more than usual. The virus we’re trying to cure might destroy them.”

She kept her focus on his rugged face, not on the devastating breadth of his chest. “Is mating forever?”

“Yes. When a vampire mates a female, her chromosomal pairs increase to twenty-eight, making her nearly immortal. She can die by beheading, just like vampires.” His hands went to the buttons on his jeans. “The virus negates the mating bond, unraveling chromosomal pairs. We’re not sure if it will stop at making them human or keep going until they’re, well, nothing.”

Why was he taking off his clothes? She slid off the bed to stand and face him. “I didn’t ask to be your mate.”

“Yeah, Milaya, I know.” The buttons of his jeans popped free. “But you feel this—thing between us—as much as I do. Something here.” He touched his fingers to his chest and kicked out of his pants, leaving naked male. Aroused naked male. A very well-endowed male. “Just thought you should know everything. Most vampires mate with a bite to the neck during sex. I won’t bite ... your neck. Now take off your clothes.”

Heat rushed into Sarah’s face. Her panties dampened. Sexy. The man was too sexy to be real. “What does that mean? Milaya?”

“My pretty one. In Russian.” One eyebrow rose. “The term fits you. Now strip.”

Warmth flushed through her. The term fit her? She’d asked for this—and damn if she didn’t want him. With a huff, she yanked her shirt over her head.

“Very nice. Your nipples look like candy.” He moved to her, pressing her to the wall with his muscular body. Hard and full, his cock pressed against her with masculine demand.

Cool and casual, she forced a smile. “Thanks.” She reached for the clasp of her jeans.

“Let me.” Rough and calloused, his hands covered hers.

“I can do it.” Control—she needed to keep some.

“Ah, sweetheart”—he pressed both palms into her shoulders, caressing down her biceps, past her elbows, to clasp her wrists—“you might want to be careful how you play.”

The low tone found a direct line to her clit. Hot, moist, reacting just to him. She clenched her thighs together to keep from rubbing against him. “I’m not playing.”

“Neither am I.” His gentle grip tightened and he lifted both wrists above her head, securing them in one large hand. “There now.”

The stretch arched her back, scraping her nipples against his warm skin.

Pure pleasure zapped from her breasts to her core. Lights flared behind her eyelids. “Max.” She aimed for demand, though it sounded more like a plea. She was beyond caring.

A low rumble came from his chest. “You say my name like that, sweetheart, I might come right now.” Cool air washed over her as he eased back just enough to place a palm against her upper chest, tapered fingers spread out. “The first time I saw you, when you tried to kick me, I imagined this. You, so sexy, wet for me.”

His fingers slid between her breasts and down to her waist to unclasp her jeans. Sliding his hand around, he plunged it inside her jeans and cupped her butt. “When I saw this sweet ass wiggling out of that window, I hoped I’d get the chance to sink my teeth right here.” He ran a finger along the crease where her buttock met her thigh.

A whimper escaped her. So much sensation—heat and need rose up so hard, so fast—her breath caught. As she tried to focus, tried to gain some control, her jeans and panties hit the floor.

He released her wrists.

The strongest man she’d ever met dropped to one knee. She protested, shifting sideways, only to have one broad hand clasp her thigh to hold her in place. “Max—”

His mouth found her. A low hum of male appreciation echoed against her clit. Oh God. Her head knocked against the smooth wallpaper. His index finger caressed her folds, sliding inside, gentle and sure. His tongue flicked out to play.

Tremors shook her knees. Lines of lightning blasted behind her lids. Pleasure, so demanding, so consuming, filled her until all she could do was feel. She pressed her palms to the wall, trying to stay upright.

A second finger joined the first and fucked her with slow, sure strokes. Helpless, she gyrated against him.

With a hungry growl, his lips enclosed her clit, and sucked.

The world exploded.

She cried out. Her eyes opened to the room sheeting white. Waves cascaded through her, and she sobbed his name. He gentled her, waiting until she calmed before standing.

Rough, his hand tangled in her hair and he took her mouth. Hard as granite, he pressed against her—towered over her. With her height, she met most men eye-to-eye. Not Max. Surrounded by him, she felt small, feminine. Like she’d imagined those perky cheerleaders had felt in high school. Deep down, she sighed.

He ate at her mouth, devouring her with incredible heat. His tongue claimed, his lips possessed. Her arms rose and encircled him, both hands spreading across his muscular back.

Desire flared to life inside her again, stronger—heavier and more insistent—than before. She slid her palms down, caressing over old scars and ridges to reach an excellent male ass. She squeezed.

The room tilted. Less than a heartbeat later, she found herself flat on the mattress, Max over her. His mouth enclosed one nipple.

Fire lanced through her. “God, Max.”

He chuckled, the vibrations nearly sending her over the edge. One inflexible knee parted her thighs, pressing against her swollen core. His dangerous mouth wandered over to lick and torture the other breast.

She tugged on his thick hair. “Now, Max. Please.”

A solid arm banded around her waist. The room tilted again. She landed on top of him, straddling his magnificent body, his cock pulsing beneath her. His grin surpassed wicked, his eyes a dark maroon—way beyond pink. “You set the pace, sweetheart.” For the briefest of moments, vulnerability flashed in those otherworldly eyes.

Her heart thumped hard against her ribs. He was afraid of hurting her. Emotion swelled her chest. The need to protect him, the feminine need to reassure him, caught her off guard. “I trust you, Max. You won’t hurt me.”

“I know.” He grasped her hips, raising her in the air—onto him.

Bending forward, she cautiously guided him into her body. Several times she paused, allowing her body to adjust to his size.

The fingers at her hips dug in, his palms vibrating. Muscles rippled in his abs and chest as he held himself in check.

Power spiked along her spine. Control. She had it, and paused again, a flirtatious chuckle bubbling up.

Warning flared in his eyes. His hold tightened. He plunged up, pressing her the rest of the way along his shaft. Pain froze her in place, then pleasure burst so hard and fast she clutched both hands to his chest.

“I warned you about playing, Sarah.” While he sounded in control, a vein pulsed in his forehead.

The dare pushed her beyond reason. Beyond the logical, steady woman she’d always been. “Is that so?” Her lips tickled into a small smile. She rose up, and slowly slid down, taking all of him, torturing them both.

He tightened his grip on her hips once again. “Sarah.”

Freedom gave her courage. The courage to push herself and the courage to tempt him. She needed to be the one to make him lose himself. She levered up, then teased him with a slow glide down again.

A primal growl erupted from his chest.

Caution flirted, but the man tempted her more. She flattened her palms on his abdomen, tightened her muscles, and levered up, torturing them both.

No additional warning was given. He flipped her beneath him, plunging deep and fast. His hands trapped hers against the bed. Pleasure bit into her. Triumph rushed through her. She curled her fingers through his, meeting him thrust for thrust.

His gaze devoured hers. “Wrap your legs around me.”

She did, and he plunged deeper. She locked her feet at the small of his back, holding on to his hands. Harder, more powerful, his thrusts rocked the bed, overwhelming her. Giving so much pleasure, yet taking far more than she’d intended to give—part of herself—a piece she wasn’t sure she’d ever get back.

Torment filled his eyes. His fangs dropped low and sharp.

Need whipped through her sex. Unbidden, she turned to expose her neck, offering.

A half growl, half groan ripped from his chest. Capturing her wrists in one hand over her head, he grabbed her ass, lifting her. His knees bent and he yanked her into him, pounding as if he couldn’t stop.

Oh God. So close. She was so close. “Max.”

He angled the base of his shaft over her clit. Fire exploded from inside her, ripping along every nerve. She cried out, arching against him, sensations consuming her. With a growl, he ground into her, his entire body tightening as he came. Holding her tight, he filled her with so much more than the physical. He dropped his head onto her neck, giving her a soft kiss.

He released her wrists and settled against her. She lowered her arms and held him tight. So tight. How could she ever let him go?

Chapter 7

Morning rain pattered peacefully against the window as Max ran a gentle hand down Sarah’s soft arm. The woman slept soundly.

He’d been too rough with her. He should probably feel guilty instead of profoundly pleased. His mate. No question now, if there had been one earlier. Keeping his fangs in his mouth and not in her neck had taken every ounce of self-control he’d honed through the centuries. Even now, sated after an entire night of truly excellent sex, his canines ached, creating a pulsing demand to take ... to claim.

She felt the bond, too. When she’d turned and exposed her neck, she’d sealed her fate. He’d take what she’d offered as soon as the virus was cured. Now that he’d found her, his entire existence narrowed to keeping her safe. It would be much easier to do if he could put her and Janie in the same place.

But first, he had a job to do.

Quietly, he slipped from the bed and yanked on cargo pants. Tiptoeing out of the bedroom, he shut the door behind him and padded barefoot through the penthouse to open the door. Conn sat in a chair in the hallway with both doorways in sight.

Max rubbed his whiskers. “Thought you’d be gone.” Though he hadn’t, not really. He knew his friend would be watching the door.

Conn shrugged. “Had a feeling you might be preoccupied.”

“She’s mine.”

“I know.” Conn’s smile failed to reach his eyes. “It’s different. With your mate, I mean.”

“Yeah.” Max had never figured to find a mate. The idea of staying away from her now, well, seemed truly impossible.

His respect for Conn grew—what self-restraint the soldier must’ve had to stay away from his mate. His friend had mated an Irish witch a hundred years ago, a young witch who needed time to train. Conn had given her a century. “Go to Ireland, Conn.”

“I’m planning on it. As soon as I get you all settled.”

A sense of belonging settled hard on Max’s shoulders. The Kayrs brothers treated him like one of them. “I can settle myself, Connlan.”

“You’re family, Max. Always have been.” Conn drew a knife out of a pocket, flipping and catching it.

“You’ve never questioned that.” Two hundred years ago, when Dage had rescued Max from hell and took him to their home, the brothers had banded around him. He’d never understood why.

“There’s nothing to question.” Conn raised an eyebrow, continuing his game with the knife, yet focusing on Max.

“You’re going to stab yourself.”

But he wouldn’t. The ultimate soldier, Conn would get bored long before losing control of the knife.

Max shook his head. “You didn’t know me. In fact, what you did know, well, wasn’t good.”

“I knew your father was an asshole who beat the hell out of you—which wasn’t your fault.” Conn tucked the blade into his left boot, keeping eye contact. “You’re one of us, Max. It’s time to stop being grateful, time to stop wondering how to make yourself valuable. I’m not the wise one around here, but that much I know. Your place is here, regardless.”

Hope unfurled inside Max. Something even more tenuous let loose—trust. From the second he’d been asked to protect Janie, he’d felt at home with the Kayrs family. Dage would only trust family with her safety. Dage had probably put them together as much for Max as for Janie. Max had been frozen and unemotional before meeting the little girl, and now he was ready to take a chance with a mate. Maybe he really did belong. “Thanks, Conn.”

“Don’t get mushy on me, Max.” Conn cleared his throat.

Yeah. Neither one of them was good with the emotional shit.

Max rolled his shoulders. “If I mate Sarah, she’ll be in danger.” Damn. How the hell did that slip out? Now he was sharing his feelings? Not a subject he’d intended to broach.

“Yeah.” Conn stood and stretched his neck. “She’s fragile as a human, though.” He grimaced. “Tough choice to make.”

For the first time, Max almost envied Conn for the surprise mating a century ago. A quick roll in the hay had changed his friend’s life forever. “Would probably be easier having things in place, like you.”

Conn’s laugh lacked humor. “That’s what you think. The second I step foot on Ireland, that woman is going to try and light me on fire. While I’d like to court her ... in order to survive, I’m going to have to tame her.”

Tame a witch? Especially a powerful one like Moira? “You’re screwed.”

“No question about that.” Conn glanced at the closed door. “Will Sarah hold up all right today?

“Yes. The woman has brains and guts. She’ll be fine in court.” Though, what if an evil criminal had sat in the witness chair before her? Max scrubbed his gritty eyes. Having a mate took a lot of thought. “Is there any way we can scrub down the chair first?” Would that even help? He needed to find out more about that gift of hers in order to protect her.

“Maybe. I wish there was another way to get the company stock. Dage wants us under the radar for this one ... too many humans are already working in our labs.”

“They don’t know about us or even what they’re working on. Dage is covered.” Max would immediately take out anyone who threatened his king.

Conn shrugged. “Maybe. But you know our world. Rumors can be as bad as true fact in the Realm. Personally, I’d rather let Sarah’s brother get the stock and torture him until he sells to us. But then we’ll have to kill him. So Dage wanted to go the legal route.”

Torturing the man who’d put Sarah in the insane asylum held certain appeal for Max. The killing didn’t bother him much, either ... though it might upset her. “I don’t like the legal route.”

“Me either. Probably why we’re not king.” Conn stilled, and then tapped his ear communicator. “Okay. Send them up.”

Max lifted an eyebrow.

“Clothes for court today.” Conn stood, casually taking a gun from his waist.

“Who was on the other end of that conversation?” Max aligned himself against the penthouse doorway, between Sarah and any danger.

“Reinforcements. I called them the second I sensed Sarah was a potential mate.” Conn took aim at the closed elevator doors. “When it became apparent she was yours, I doubled the number.”

Max straightened, his gaze on the man who was as close as a brother to him. Warmth and belonging settled hard, somewhere in his solar plexus. “Thank you.”

“No problem.”

The door slid open to reveal a soldier they both knew well carrying bags of clothing. “Delivery,” he muttered.

“Thanks, Chalton.” Max smiled and grabbed several bags from the soldier. “I’ll go awaken ... my mate.”

Sarah smoothed down the silk skirt, shifting uncomfortably on the hard wooden chair. The compact courtroom held a judge’s bench with a witness chair facing two tables separated by a narrow aisle. A jury box sat empty to her right and three rows of benches lined the room behind her. Max loomed on the first one near the aisle, Jase sat at one table with her, and Conn leaned against the wall by the door as they waited for the judge to show.

While no vibrations came from the skirt, a nervous accountant on trial for fraud had last sat in the chair—nervous and guilty as hell.

She took a peek at her brother and his beautiful attorney seated at the other table. Andrew was wearing Armani. The attorney was a blond hottie in a light gray suit and three-inch red Jimmy Choos. Great shoes.

Jase tapped an elegant pen on a legal pad. “Take a deep breath, Sarah. You’ll be fine.”

She forced a grin. “You look the part, Jase, but you didn’t have to cut your hair.”

He’d shaved his scruffy beard and lopped off his long brown hair, though the ends still curled over his collar. The pinstriped gray Caraceni suit he wore fit him perfectly.

He shrugged. “I was ready to cut it. We’ve been training like crazy, and Conn keeps grabbing me by the hair to throw across the field.”

They were brothers, right? “How old are you, anyway?” Probably early twenties.

“Three hundred and ten years.” Jase eyed the opposing attorney, giving her a slight lift of the chin. Color slid under the blonde’s smooth skin.

Sarah coughed. “You’re kidding me.” She pivoted to face Max, who met her gaze with a nod of encouragement.

Showered and dressed in black slacks and a white button-down shirt, he was a bit irritated he couldn’t bring weapons into the courthouse. Darn metal detectors.

“How old is Max?” she whispered.

“Two hundred next month,” Jase said, grinning. “We try to throw him a party every decade, and it irritates as much as confuses him. He didn’t have that as a kid.”

Sadness filtered through Sarah. She was so sorry for the child Max must’ve been. “Yeah, he told me.”

“Really?” Jase started. “Interesting. Perhaps you’ll be at the next party. Janie has been planning it to include a puppy. I think she wants the puppy.”

Sarah frowned, her gaze on Max’s enduring face. They hadn’t had a chance to talk earlier—they’d hurried to make it to court on time. Would he stay in touch? Did he want a relationship? Sure hadn’t felt like a one-night stand.

Max frowned back.

She lifted one eyebrow in what she hoped appeared indifference, pivoting to face the front. “What if we lose, Jase?”

He lost his grin, looking decades older. “We can’t lose. This is the only way we get our hands on the altered protein. If the Kurjans get it first, they’ll use the protein before we can invent countermeasures. We’ll lose mates, including my pregnant sister-in-law and my queen.”

“I still think the minority stockholders will have something to say about lab results being made available to stock owners.”

Jase shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. You own the majority of the stock—you can do what you want, include selling to us. Then we’ll have access, whether the minority stockholders like it or not. Nothing they can do about it.”

A breeze threw pinecones against a high row of windows as sunlight cascaded through. Jase cut a glance at Conn.

“What?” Sarah asked.

“I’m happy the sun is out. No Kurjans today.” Jase scratched his head. “Remember to answer the questions the way we rehearsed on the ride over.”

“I’ll try.” She wouldn’t lie under oath unless she absolutely had to. The idea made her squirm in her pale blue suit. “Thanks again for the clothes.” The spiked heel of the soft pink Manolo Blahniks gave her a sense of strength. Odd, but true. Of course, having tough-assed vampires in the room ready to defend her, well now, that wasn’t bad, either.

A throat cleared, and Andrew stood in front of her table. “Sarah. How are you feeling?”

Surprise pressed her back in the chair, and she plastered on the fakest smile she could create. “Damn pissed at you. We both know what happened, Andrew.”

He tilted his perfectly coiffed head. Cool blue eyes narrowed and he sighed. “Yes, we do. Apparently you’re still confused.”

So. He’d lie to the end. Sorrow at what could’ve been, at the relationship she might’ve had with him, slid through her. She was done feeling sorry for him. He’d chosen evil and was responsible for the decision. “I don’t remember our mother much, but something tells me you’re just like her.”

The insult sent a dark red spiraling across his tanned face. “No matter what is decided here today, you’ll never teach again. Nobody will allow a possible psychopath near their kids.”

He’d pitched a direct hit, and a damn good one. The time in the psychiatric hospital might be used against her in the future. Andrew had always known how to hurt her.

His gaze moved behind her, and he took a step back.

She didn’t turn. A creak of the wood promised Max had stood to his full height. She’d bet his expression was anything but kind.

“Return to your seat, Drew. We’re done.” Sarah used the nickname he’d always hated.

Andrew swallowed loudly. “You’ve made your bed.” He turned on his heel and stomped back to the blonde.

The wooden bench creaked in protest behind her. Max had sat back down.

Jase eyed her. “Your brother’s an asshole.”

Sarah forced a smile. “Half brother, and yeah, he is.”

Teaching fulfilled a need in her, and she was good at it. She loved her students and loved the glee they showed when learning something new. Fury heated her stomach at the thought that she’d never teach again.

A side door opened and a uniformed bailiff stalked inside. “All rise.”

Everyone stood, and a judge dressed in the customary black robe strode inside and took his seat. “Sit. Everyone sit.”

Steel-gray hair was slicked back from a weathered face sporting deep laugh lines near his mouth. He wore wire-rimmed glasses on his narrow nose. Intelligence shone in his faded blue eyes as he scanned the room. “So. Family fight here, huh?”

Nobody spoke, but Sarah found herself nodding.

The judge narrowed his focus to her. “Are you crazy, young lady?”

“No, sir.” The anger receded as she focused. Her smile was genuine. The man knew how to get to the point.

The blond attorney stood. “Melanie Melcome for the Petitioner, your honor.”

“I know who you are, Ms. Melcome.” The judge squinted at Jase. “You, however, I do not know.”

Jase stood. “Jason Belamny for Miss Pringle.”

“I know your name, young man.” The judge grabbed a file, tapping it. “I’ve read your documents, which were very well written. I researched you. You graduated top in your class from Harvard and work in southern Washington. Yet here you are in Seattle.”

Charm oozed from Jase. “I’m a country lawyer working on land use planning and contracts, judge. But Miss Pringle needed help, and we’re old friends. So I came to help.”

Wow. He sounded so sincere Sarah almost believed him. She’d taken a look at his fake credentials earlier. The vampires had some expert forgers.

The judge nodded. “Very well. Let’s get this hearing started.” He cleared his throat. “Ms. Melcome, I assume the testimony of your client and the psychiatrist will follow the brief you filed? That Miss Pringle has suffered a mental breakdown and should be found incompetent, for the good of the company?”

“Yes, your Honor.” Melanie nodded.

“And Mr. Belamny? Your position is clearly laid out in your briefs?”

“Yes, sir.” Jase frowned. Apparently the judge was not going to follow usual procedure.

The judge nodded. “Then I see no reason to waste time on opening statements or anyone testifying to what’s already in affidavits and briefs. Let’s get to it. Mr. Belamny, why don’t you call your client to the stand? Let’s talk about mental competency.”

Jase leaned over. “This is unusual, but judges have discretion. Take the stand, Sarah.”

Chapter 8

Sarah stood on shaking legs to walk the distance to the witness stand. The leather squeaked as she settled in the chair. Joy cascaded through her so powerfully she caught her breath. The last person to sit had adopted a baby boy after years of trying. The new mother’s elation wiped out any other sensation left in the chair.

Her shoulders relaxed, and Sarah folded her hands in her lap. The bailiff swore her in.

Jase stood, smoothing down his silk tie. “Miss Pringle, why were you sent to Brancrest?”

Sarah leaned toward the microphone. “I was sent there so my brother could steal my stock and sell our company.”

“Objection.” Melanie stood.

Jase flashed a smooth smile. “On what grounds?”

Melanie pursed her lips, then tilted her head. “The witness isn’t qualified to speak as to my client’s motivation. She’s not in his head.”

“Sustained,” the judge said. “Rephrase, Mr. Belamny.”

Jase nodded. “Sarah, we’re here because you saw the murder of a friend of yours and insisted a white-faced creature—you called him a vampire—killed her. Do you remember that night?”

Her stomach sank. “Yes, I do.”

“Do you still believe vampires killed your friend?”

She took a deep breath. “No. Vampires did not kill Lila.”

“Why have you changed your mind?” Jase asked.

“Therapy at Brancrest. I learned that after a traumatic event, your brain might make things up. Like scary monsters.” All the truth. Dr. Robard had repeatedly tried to teach her that. Plus, now she knew real vampires. They were good, while Kurjans weren’t.

Jase nodded. “Yet you ran away from Brancrest.”

She turned her focus to the judge. “I just wanted to go home.”

He nodded, understanding filling his eyes.

“Tender the witness.” Jase returned to his seat.

Melanie stood, her heels clicking sharply as she strode to stand in front of her table. “So who killed Lila?”

“I don’t know,” Sarah whispered.

“Can you describe him?”

Nausea swirled in Sarah’s stomach. She could describe him. White-faced, purple eyes, sharp canines. A strong pull yanked her attention to Max. He locked eyes with her, giving her confidence, reminding her to think of the bigger picture. She needed to stay strong. “No. I can’t describe him. The night is still a blur, and the doctor said my memory may always be fuzzy.”

Melanie reached for a manila file, opening the front flap. “When you escaped last week, you created a website geared toward finding the white-faced vampires.” She glanced up, sharp eyes hardening. “Last week, Miss Pringle.”

Panic ripped down Sarah’s spine. Even then, Max’s strength reached for her. She swallowed. “I learned at Brancrest that writing can heal. I thought if I wrote a horror novel, then maybe I could let go of that horrible night.” Still the truth ... though not all of it. She tried to keep her face serious. Heat began to climb through her cheeks.

Melanie took a step toward her. “Did a human kill Lila?”

Sarah met the attorney’s gaze. “No. Only something evil could’ve ripped Lila’s head off. No humanity existed in the person who did that.”

Melanie studied her. “Did the killer look like, I don’t know, like a zombie?”

Jase stood. “Asked and answered. My client has related the events of that night to the best of her ability. As well as she can now. Enough.”

The judge nodded. “I agree. Miss Pringle, step down, please.”

Sarah sighed in relief and took slow steps to get to Jase and sit down. He remained standing. “Now, your honor, we’d like for Dr. Robard, Sarah’s psychiatrist, to testify regarding her recuperation.”

The door opened, and Dr. Robard limped inside. He appeared decades older than he had the previous day.

Robard testified regarding traumatic events, and more important, how Sarah’s brain had processed the terrible evening the best it could. Sweat rolled down his face, and his eyes darted around the courtroom. He concluded she was no longer under any illusions.

Melanie stood to cross-examine him. Her smile served to visibly relax the doctor. “Now, doctor, I know it’s difficult testifying about a patient.”

“Yes.” The doctor’s shoulders went back. A slight blush rose across his face.

Good grief. Was the man flirting? Sarah stiffened.

“But we really must get to the truth, don’t you think?” Melanie tapped red nails against the file, waiting until the doctor nodded before continuing. She pivoted and pointed to Conn near the door. “Do you know that man?”

“Objection.” Jase stood and smoothed down his tie.

“On what grounds?” Melanie threw Jase’s words back at him.

His smile was full of charm. “Relevance.”

“Oh, I think the two hulking men in the courtroom who escorted the poor doctor here are very relevant to his testimony, Mr. Belamny.” Fire flashed through the attorney’s eyes. She focused on the judge. “Goes to credibility, Judge.”

“Credibility?” Surprise coated Jase’s words. “We’ve established the doctor’s credentials. He’s qualified.”

“Sure he is.” Melanie cast the doctor a sympathetic glance. “But if he is feeling threatened, then we must explore the veracity of his testimony, now mustn’t we?”

The judge frowned, glancing at Conn and then at Max. “Objection overruled. You may continue, Ms. Melcome.”

Jase sat back down.

Melanie tilted her head to the side. “Who’s the titan at the door, doctor?”

The doctor cleared his throat. “I, ah, his name is Conn. The man behind you is Max.”

“I see.” Melanie paused, turned and studied both men, then pivoted to face the doctor. “They look dangerous.”

“Objection.” Jase lazily stretched to his feet. “Ms. Melcome is testifying, your Honor.”

“Sustained.” The judge nevertheless studied Max.

“My apologies.” Melanie eyed Jase. “Are you feeling threatened, doctor?”

“No.” The flush on the doctor’s face deepened. “Nobody has threatened me.”

Melanie frowned in clear disbelief. “These men escorted you here today, didn’t they?”

“Yes. They’re friends of Miss Pringle.” The doctor leaned forward, his gaze earnest. “I’m testifying as to the truth here today. Miss Pringle is not crazy and has made a full recovery.” He sat back with a sigh.

Lines cut into the judge’s forehead when he frowned, narrowing his eyes at Jase.

Melanie shook her head and continued with cross, trying to shake the doctor’s testimony, but he held firm—shaky but firm.

When he stood down, Conn escorted him from the courthouse.

Quiet settled through the room. The judge read the briefs again.

Sarah fidgeted. “What happens to Dr. Robard now?” she whispered.

Jase stared hard at the judge. “We’ll threaten him, have him sign a nondisclosure, threaten him again, and send him home.”

“Promise me you’ll ask him to fire nurse Whitcome.”

“I promise.” Jase shuffled the files in front of him. “You need to be ready to run for it if the judge rules against us.”

“You think he will?” Sarah’s hands began to tremble.

“It’s possible. That lawyer did a good job showing how Conn and Max may have coerced the doctor’s testimony. Especially considering his testimony contradicts your blog.”

Fear slid down Sarah’s spine. She pressed the balls of her feet down in the pretty shoes, stabilizing herself in case she needed to move quickly.

The judge banged down his gavel, startling everyone. “Based on the testimony herein, I deny the petitioner’s request to have Miss Pringle declared incompetent. Everyone go home.” He stood.

“All rise,” the bailiff bellowed.

Everybody stood up, and the judge swept through the side door.

Relief relaxed Sarah’s feet. She turned and hugged Jase. “Thank you.”

Her gaze caught her brother’s furious grimace. Even so, a glimmer of triumph curled his upper lip. Unease whispered through her. She released Jase and slipped over to Andrew’s table. “You know I’m not crazy, Drew.”

He stood. “Sure you are. But it’s okay. You know I always believe in Plan B.”

She frowned, reaching casually for a pen he’d twirled throughout the hearing. Anger, conceit, and arrogance vibrated from the pen, along with images. Her heel caught, and she stumbled back into strong arms.

Max turned her. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

She nodded, blindly following him to the hallway, where she tugged him to a stop.

“What?” he growled.

“The pen.” Images swirled so fast in her brain her skull ached. “Andrew obtained the access codes and layout of the Mercury lab from a security analyst he’s been seeing. The woman knew enough to get to the information, but she didn’t understand the medical jargon. They’re prepared in case they lost the hearing—this was to keep us busy. The Kurjans are hitting the lab as soon as darkness falls.”

Max tapped his ear communicator. “We need another force outside Pringle Pharmaceuticals—breach imminent.”

Jase shoved a piece of paper in her hands. “Sign this.”

She twisted Andrew’s pen. Selling the company would be a huge relief. Her grandpa had always told her to sell if she wanted, that her happiness was more important than any company—and the vampires would use it for good. Then she gasped at the offer on the paper. “This is too much money.” Way too much money.

Max clasped her biceps. “Only sell if you want, Sarah. If you want to keep the company, we can work something out.”

Jase frowned. “Max—”

“No.” Max’s eyes hardened. “We’re not forcing her. If she wants to keep the company, she keeps the company.”

Certainty, trust, faith—all centered deep inside her. Max would go against his people to protect her. She signed the paper. “Good luck with it.” She tilted her head. “I saw enough images from the pen that I can get you to the information you want. I know where the data is being hidden.” As did the Kurjans.

“No.” Max grasped her elbow, tugging her through the courthouse to the soft sunshine outside. Thank goodness it was sunny. They hustled across the street to the packed parking lot, Jase barking orders into a cell phone.

The first shot hit Max square in the chest.

The next punctured Jase’s neck.

Sarah screamed, reaching for Max.

A van door opened and men wearing black masks jumped out, firing point-blank at both vampires. Max went down, even then trying to shove Sarah behind him. She slammed her palms against his chest, trying to stem the blood flowing from his wounds.

One man grabbed Sarah by the hair, throwing her into the van. She kicked with the heels and clawed with her short nails, trying to get back to Max. Oh God. How many times had he been shot?

They hadn’t considered the Kurjans—or Andrew—would send humans. The doors slid shut, and something pierced her neck.

Everything went black.

The scent of bleach tickled Sarah’s nose. Her head ached and cold permeated her nose and cheekbones. She felt chilly, hard tiles and opened her eyes. The floor. She was lying on a floor. What had they injected into her neck?

Small dirt particles coated her palms when she flattened her hands out. Gathering courage, she pushed to a seated position to look around. Andrew sat on a desk, his leg swinging. “Hello, bitch.”

She surveyed the small office. Industrial tiles, no windows, a solid steel door, and one metal desk with posters of ACHIEVEMENT and GOALS behind it. “You brought me to the Mercury lab.” Memories slammed inside her head. Max. “Where’s Max? Is he okay?”

Andrew grabbed a letter opener to twirl in his hands. “Max? I assume he’s one of the hulks escorting you?”

Sarah gave a short nod.

“Max is most certainly dead.”

A sob rose in her throat. She shook her fuzzy head to clear the thoughts. Max was a vampire. Two hundred years was a long time to live, he could probably handle a few bullets. “How can you do this, Andrew? I’m your sister.”

“Half sister.” He flipped the letter opener in the air, catching the sharp point in his other hand. “In fact, truth be told, I doubt good old Grandpappy was even related to you. Mom was quite the whore.”

Sarah kept her face placid. Angering Andrew wouldn’t help her get out of the lab.

The door slid open.

Her biggest nightmare stomped inside.

Fear overcame the headache. Giving a small cry, Sarah bounded up, rushing around the desk.

Andrew laughed. “Sarah, I believe you’ve already met Erik.”

The freak smiled yellowed fangs. “Yes. You moved rather quickly last time, didn’t you? Impressive feat with the elevator. Loved the website, too.” He glanced at Andrew. “Dusk has finally fallen. We’ll be able to leave soon.”

She clutched both hands until they went numb. “Andrew, you can’t sell the stock to these monsters.”

“Oh, Sarah.” Andrew stood and shoved a stack of papers in front of her. “You’re selling the stock. I’m making a shitload of money. For the stock, and well, you.”

“Me?” she gasped.

Erik sniffed the air. His eyes morphed from purple to red. “Yes, I was right. You are a potential mate. Good. You’ll be coming with me.” Then he frowned and a low snarl escaped his wide chest. “Whoever your future mate is, he won’t appreciate that you have fucked a vampire.”

Holy crap. The bastard smelled Max on her?

Andrew grimaced. “Like mother, like daughter, I suppose.” He shrugged. “Sign the papers, Sarah. Or Erik will persuade you.”

The papers didn’t matter. She’d already sold to Jase.

“Oh.” Andrew grabbed a folded piece of paper from inside his jacket. “Here’s the one you signed earlier. My men grabbed it from the second guy we killed. The shot through the neck did the trick.” He ripped the paper into small pieces, throwing them at Sarah.

Pain whipped through her. No. Jase wasn’t dead. Neither was Max.

Erik smiled. “I wish I could’ve seen the hearing. But, well, we needed the Kayrs bastards distracted while we got into the lab. Good distraction, huh?”

Sarah shook her head. Too bad she hadn’t learned to fight. Max could’ve taught her. Though she appreciated what he did teach her. Even scared beyond belief, she could smile.

Andrew grimaced. “Sign the paper, Sarah. I would very much like to own the company.”

Sarah frowned. “Why you? I mean, why don’t the Kurjans buy the lab or just take the lab results?”

Erik scratched his white nose. “We need more labs for our research and can’t exactly run a company out in the open. We’ll make fine partners with Andrew here. He can be our front man, on this and other endeavors.”

Her brother had made a deal with the devils. God help him.

Sarah turned her mind to escape. “You’re such a jerk, Andrew.”

Erik tsked and shook his head. “Be nice. If it wasn’t for your brother, we would’ve fetched you from Brancrest, and you’d be mated to one of my people right now. Making little Kurjan babies.”

Bile rose from her stomach.

Andrew shrugged. “I convinced them to wait the three months until I obtained the stock. Of course, now they can have you.”

She swallowed hard, shoving the hurt down. No more feeling sorry for him. He’d chosen his path. “I’ll never give you another thought.” Grabbing the pen, she paused and then signed bold, big letters. She stood. “We’re done, Andrew.”

Erik’s pants rang the anthem to Monster Mash. He grabbed a cell phone, flipping it open. “What?” He listened, blood-red lips twisting. “Well, use the dynamite and blow the door open. I’ll be right here.” Clicking it shut, he glared at Andrew. “We can’t get past the last locked door to the private records lab.”

Andrew shrugged. “I told you where to find the samples and results. Getting through the security is your problem.”

Erik growled, much like a Great Dane. Nowhere near as sexy as Max’s growl. The Kurjan stomped out of the room.

Sarah slid her hand across the smooth desk, reaching the letter opener. Vibrations from Andrew’s anger cascaded up her arm. Clasping the handle, she grabbed the papers and threw them at Andrew. “You know at some time they’re going to kill you, right?” She angled around the desk, closer to the door.

Andrew snatched the papers out of the air. “Like I said, Plan B. I have contingencies, Sarah.”

Nausea swirled in her stomach. She didn’t want to hurt him. Even after everything, the idea of plunging the sharp end into his flesh made her pause. But she had to get back to Max. No way he wasn’t looking for her right now, wounded if not dead. That much she knew.

Andrew glanced at the papers and sighed. “Fuck you? Really Sarah? You signed the papers with a big fuck you.”

Her smile felt nasty. “Meant both words, asshole.” She lunged for the door.

Andrew seized her around the waist, throwing her to the floor. She caught herself with her palms. Pain shot up her arms to settle in both shoulders. Quick as she could, she bounded up, stabbing the letter opener into his knee.

A roar bellowed out of Andrew. He swept a palm out, striking her in the temple. Stars exploded behind her eyes. She fell sideways, smacking her head on the wall. More stars. Anger burned away the hurt. So many years of not understanding why he disliked her, why he picked on her, shot her into a tackle. She hit him around the knees, taking him down to the hard tile.

Andrew’s head bounced twice and he went limp.

Panic caught the breath in her throat. She scrambled off him, breath panting and ears ringing. Holy crap. She’d knocked out Andrew.

Run. She needed to run.

She grabbed the doorknob and hauled herself up. The door yanked open with a quick tug, and she stumbled into strong, male arms.

She opened her mouth to scream.

Chapter 9

A broad hand covered her lips. “Sarah. It’s me.”

“Max!” She threw both arms around him, holding tight. The coppery scent of blood filled her nostrils, and she stepped back. “Oh my God.”

Bullet holes dotted his ripped shirt. Blood trickled out. A wide scrape marred his forehead and left cheek. “I’m fine.”

Conn stood behind him. “Where’s the records lab, Sarah?” He gestured down the wide hallway with his arm, showcasing two large puncture marks in his right wrist.

Her eyes widened.

Conn followed her gaze. “Your man has sharp teeth. Get used to it.”

Thoughts swirled through her cloudy mind. Oh. Conn had fed Max. “Um. Thanks.... Jase?” she asked quietly.

“Recovering at the hotel,” Max muttered. He’d taken out the contacts he’d worn for court, and his eyes shone pissed and bright. “Let’s get the data and get the hell out of here.” He peered over her head. “What happened?”

“I knocked him out.” She shrugged, trying not to smile. “Kicked his ass, actually.”

“Good girl.” Max dragged a gun out of his back pocket, handing the cool metal to her. “Aim for the chest if you need to shoot.” He tapped his ear communicator, listening to something while nodding at Conn.

“I will.” She gestured toward the end of the hallway. “The lab you want is to the left, through several security measures the Kurjans have already taken care of.”

Male laughter echoed in the hallway. Conn slid back around the corner, out of sight. Shadows settled into place around him. More soldiers? Then even the shadows went still. Max shoved Sarah back inside the office, turning to shield her.

Heavy footsteps echoed on the innocuous tiles along with murmured voices—deep, gravelly voices.

Sarah shivered, her gaze on Max’s broad back, her hand clutching the gun.

Fingers dug into her hair. Pain ripped along her scalp. She stifled a cry as Andrew yanked her against his chest, shoving a gun barrel under her jaw.

Max pivoted. Death shone in his eyes. Slowly, he closed the door, leaning against the wood. “Let her go and I won’t disembowel you.”

Sarah tried to swallow. The weapon under her chin hindered saliva. Vibrations cascaded along her skin. The gun had been used to kill. Her mind swirled as she saw some sort of gang war. Andrew had purchased the gun at a swap meet. Illegally. If she got out of this, she’d make an anonymous call to the police. “Let me go, Andrew.”

He tightened his hold. “Erik? I’m here with vampires,” he bellowed.

An explosion rocked the hallway—the entire building, actually. The GOALS poster slammed to the floor. Something hard hit the other side of the door.

Max smiled, lacking any semblance of humor. “We brought two contingents of soldiers. The Kurjans are ... dying ... right now.” He stalked two steps forward. “Do you want to die, too?”

Andrew trembled. “If I die, so does she.”

The door splintered. Max pivoted toward the threat as a Kurjan flew inside, crashing into him. They hit the desk, slamming it against the wall. Max landed on his back, his hands clapping the Kurjan’s ears with the sound of thunder.

The mutant howled in rage. He shot his palm into Max’s chin, throwing the vampire’s head back against the metal surface of the desk. The loud crunch made Sarah gasp.

Adrenaline ripped through her veins. Remembering to keep her thumb out, she bunched her fist and shot an elbow into Andrew’s ribs. Air whooshed out of his lungs. The gun barrel pressed harder into her jugular. She froze, barely able to breathe.

The brutal fight on the floor threw blood over her lower legs, causing a chill to sweep down her spine.

Fangs out, fists bunched, the two hit and kicked with blurs of speed. The Kurjan fought with rage, with fire in his weird eyes. Max fought with cold, hard, furious precision. He gave no quarter, twisting his legs around the Kurjan’s torso while his forearms slid on either side of the monster’s neck.

A loud crack ended the fight.

The Kurjan went limp, his neck broken. Max rolled over, straddling the beast while sliding his knife out of his boot. Quick, precise, cuts—and he decapitated his enemy.

He stood, facing her, fangs low, blood splattered across his rugged face. Cold death shone in his eyes.

If she could’ve swallowed, she would have. His gaze cut to Andrew. “Let her go.”

Andrew trembled behind Sarah. Actually trembled—but kept his arm around her and the gun pointed at her throat. “ No. ”

A body flew in through the open doorway, arms windmilling out of control. A Kurjan. He hit Andrew in the side, sending them sprawling to the floor. Sarah’s shoulder bounced on the hard tiles. Pain ricocheted up her neck.

Panting, she scrambled away from the bodies and used the wall to stand up, trying to stay calm. Max grabbed the Kurjan by the nape, spinning and throwing him back into the melee going on in the hallway.

Andrew jumped to his feet. A smile, his mean one, slid across his face as he pointed the gun at Max.

Panic ripped through Sarah so fast her ears rang. Instinct overcame reason and she leaped for Max. “No!”

Andrew pulled the trigger. The shot echoed around the room, but the bullet went into the ceiling. Plaster rained down from above.

She hit Max’s chest, and he shoved her behind him. With a growl, he lunged for Sarah’s brother, digging his fingers into Andrew’s neck. He yanked, and Andrew’s head flew across the room.

Oh God. Blackness ripped through the light in the room. Sarah swayed against the wall.

Max pivoted, almost in slow motion, raw fury on his face. “You jumped in front of a bullet.”

Sarah blinked. Yeah, but the bullet had missed her. Then darkness won as she slid to the floor, almost welcoming unconsciousness this time.

She woke up back in the hotel room, wearing a huge, clean T-shirt and feeling safe under the covers. For the love of all that was holy. She had to stop falling into unconsciousness. As she stretched, her breath caught in her throat. Someone else was in the room. She turned her head to find Max sprawled in a chair, watching her. “Hi.”

One dark eyebrow rose. Tension cascaded off his large body. Pissed. Yeah, he was seriously pissed.

She shoved herself back until she rested against the headboard. Her hand felt steady as she shoved hair off her face. “Did you get the information at the lab?”

“Yes. Then we blew the building up—industrial accident with your brother as a casualty. The two scientists who created the antiprotein will be relocated to one of our labs.”

She wanted to feel sorrow at the loss of Andrew, but the sadness wouldn’t come. “The Kurjans?”

“Most dead. Damn Erik escaped, but without the information he needed.”

Silence descended. The vampire waited.

She sighed. Jumping in front of the gun was stupid, especially since bullets obviously didn’t hurt Max much. And she’d reacted without thought. Apparently they were about to have a fight. She decided to put up a strong front. “Get over it.”

She wouldn’t have thought it was possible for him to look angrier, but she was wrong.

He leaned forward slowly, deliberately. “Excuse me?”

Nerves twittered to life in her abdomen, but she ignored them. He was not going to intimidate her. “Which word confused you?”

“Oh, I got the words, baby girl.” Low and silky, his voice rumbled to a tone a smart girl would heed. A smart girl would run from that tone. He leaned forward even farther. “What confused me was your irresponsible regard for your own safety when you jumped in front of a fucking bullet.” Something dangerous flashed in his eyes.

The bullet hadn’t even come close. At the moment, Max appeared far more deadly. As a smart woman, she fully understood the opposing forces fighting inside her—fear and anger. She needed to let one loose. “I make my own damn choices.” Anger was so much easier to deal with than fear.

“Are you my mate?” His soft question stopped the world.

Sarah had no emotion, no thought, and felt nothing for the briefest of a heartbeat. Then her heart sped up. Sometimes the truth, whether it made sense or not, needed to be said. “Yes.” She felt it. In fact, she knew it. Her shoulders went back. “But I am not jumping into forever. There will be dating. Or rather, considering your age, there will be courting.”

“Did I ask you to jump into forever?”

A lump dropped into her stomach. Her chin lifted. “No.” She twisted her fingers in the bedspread.

He reached forward and unclenched her fingers, flattening her hand between his. “I’m fine with dating. With courting. What I’m not fine with, what you’ll never do again, is put yourself in the path of a bullet. Ever.” His gaze locked hard with hers. “I’m an easygoing guy, sweetheart. But I have a line, and you found it. Don’t cross it again.”

As warnings went, he gave a damn good one. Too bad she couldn’t heed him. “Is that what you do? I mean, shield everybody?”

“Yes. Especially you.” His hands relaxed a fraction.

“No.”

His hold on her hand tightened. “You don’t want to go there, Milaya.”

“I’m already there, Max. I understand your job, your compulsion to protect and defend. I respect it. But I’m your mate, and even though you have yet to acknowledge that fact, if I am, then I protect you, too.”

“You’re my mate.” The words sounded more like a threat than a statement. “As such, in this regard, you’ll do as I say.” He was so determined, so male.

Yet somehow, so sweet. “Sorry, vamp. Not going to happen.”

He moved too fast to track. Strong hands manacled her arms, jerking her from the bed. He took a step, and she found her butt against the cold wall and her thighs spread by his muscled hips.

Her wide eyes looked into his. “Max.”

Determination showed in his hard jaw. “We seem to be having a communication problem here, Sarah.”

Desire slid through her, softening her thighs. She pressed against the obvious bulge in his jeans. Tingles of pleasure wound through her sex, shooting nerves to life. “Maybe we should stop talking.” Self-control—she needed some to keep from rubbing against him like a cat in heat.

“Being awfully brave here, baby girl.” Warning filled his words, while desire filled his eyes.

She smiled, dropping all pretenses along with her guard. Letting her feelings show.

He blinked once, then again. Disarmed. “Sarah.”

“I love you, Max.” Forget rationality. Forget time. The world made sense when he held her. The man belonged to her. “I’m keeping you.”

Pleasure burst across his face. Arrogance lifted his strong jaw. “You don’t seem like you believe in love at first sight.”

“I don’t.” She settled her palms on his broad shoulders, spreading her fingers. Muscles bunched beneath her skin. “But I believe in you.” In this, for the future, she’d trust her instincts along with her feelings. As an intelligent woman, no way in hell would she let him go.

“Love at first sight exists.” Slowly, deliberately, he reached down and lifted the shirt over her head. Cool air whispered across her skin, sharpening her nipples. The shirt floated to the floor. “The first time I saw your picture, I took a sledgehammer to the chest.” His gaze dropped. “Since then, I’ve alternated between wanting to kiss you and spank you into submission.” His eyes flared as that dangerous gaze lifted. “I imagine we’ll have time for both during this courting you’ve mentioned.”

Part of her goal for the courting period would be to drag the vampire into the current century. She ignored the tickle of doubt at her nape. How hard could it be? “You really must stop threatening me.” Her voice came out way too breathy. Not nearly with enough strength.

“Darlin’, I never threaten.” He speared his fingers through her hair, holding her in place.

She tried to pull back, not surprised when her head didn’t move. Fire licked along her scalp at his show of dominance. Well then, if that’s how he wanted to play. Slowly, deliberately, her tongue flicked out to wet her lips. “So, court me, Max.”

His expression smoothed out. Those massive shoulders relaxed. Control settled on his hard face. “No problem.”

The determination in the words had her stiffening. “Wait, I meant—”

Firm and warm, his mouth silenced her. He dove deep, tangling his tongue with hers, thrusting in an imitation of sex. One hand settled beneath her butt, pressing her into the hard line of his shaft. The other hand tugged her head back farther.

He broke the kiss and she let out a soft whimper.

“You’ll be making that sound a lot tonight, darlin.” Air lifted her hair as he pivoted and laid her on the bed, smoothly tugging off her black lace thong, her legs hanging over the edge. “Starting now.”

Chapter 10

Max’s heart thundered in his ears. He couldn’t look away from the absolutely perfect woman on the bed. His mate. A rosy blush spread from her pert breasts to her pale cheeks. Love and a hint of uncertainty lingered in her chocolate eyes. It was exactly what he wanted to see. He needed the love, and the uncertainty would make her think twice the next time someone shot a gun. The woman had a lot to learn.

He had no intention of being a bossy asshole with her. On the rare occasion he gave an order, it was necessary for safety, and she’d damn well follow it. No better place to start than the bedroom. “Spread your legs.”

Interest filtered in her amazing eyes, followed by ... yeah ... that was defiance.

His cock hardened to rock, threatening to burst from his jeans. He lowered his voice to the commanding tone he used when training the younger vampires on the field. “Now.”

A gasp escaped her. She paused, then slowly did as he said. Yeah. She was wet.

He allowed his expression to darken to the one he used when the young vamps didn’t listen. “Wider.”

The tiniest of shivers ran through her body. Yet, focused on him, she spread her legs wider.

“Good girl.” Leaning down, he blew the softest of breaths over her barely concealed clit.

The sound she gave could’ve come from a strangled cat. He fought a grin, making plans. “That wasn’t quite the whimper I wanted, sweetheart.” He crouched down to taste. “Summer and sex.” Like the best fucking July on record.

She tried to squirm away, and he stopped her with a heavy hand to the abdomen. “Don’t think for a second I won’t tie you down.”

Her thighs quivered. Moisture coated them.

Oh yeah. His woman had some untapped depths. Hands on her skin, he leaned forward to tempt and taste. He played with his tongue, with his fingers, driving her to a series of whimpers until finally enclosing her clit with his mouth.

She stiffened, her back arching.

With a low growl, he sucked.

She cried out, waves rolling under his palm and mouth as she came. He plunged two fingers inside her, throwing her into a second, more intense orgasm.

God. She was perfect. He gentled her until she quieted. Quick motions had his T-shirt ripped off and his pants hitting the floor. His mate was sprawled on the bed, lazy satisfaction in her dark eyes and a pretty smile on her face.

His heart thumped hard.

Her gaze wandered over his body. She gave a sight cough when she reached his cock. “Wow.” Intrigue and wonder filled her eyes, and she sat up to grasp him, her fingers not long enough to touch. Slowly, almost tentatively, she leaned forward and ran her tongue along the tip.

Fire shot straight to his balls. Jesus.

“Oh.” Closing her eyes, she sighed and slid her mouth over him.

The heat from her mouth was phenomenal. Max sucked in air. Then the woman took more of him with a soft hum of appreciation. She swallowed.

Thunder roared in his ears. Like a rubber band, his control snapped. His hands manacling her arms, he flipped her around to hands and knees. Hands clenching her hips, he drove inside her with one strong thrust.

She stiffened, then relaxed. “Oh, Max.”

Her internal walls clamped down on him, sending sparks of fire along his every nerve ending. Pleasure too intense to exist rippled across his cock to his spine. Fast and hard, he pounded into her. Whatever primitive beast lived inside him shot to the surface. A primal need to possess, to completely master her had his fangs dropping low.

His balls slapped her ass, the sound barely audible over their harsh breathing. Faster. Harder. More. He needed more.

Angling his body over her, he enclosed her. She shoved back against him, meeting him thrust for thrust, a desperate mewling panting out.

He reached under her, flattening his hand across her upper chest, tugging her back to meet his thrusts. Controlling her. White-hot fire ripped down his spine, lava encasing his balls. Rational thought disappeared. Pure, raw need took over. Feeling the desperate climb building inside her, his free hand found her clit.

He pinched.

She cried out, her back bowing, the orgasm whipping through her and tightening her hold on him.

The ripples clawed his cock with a force that had him seeing red. Instinct had his fangs piercing her neck.

Blood.

Sweet, like sunshine, it filled his mouth, filled his soul. He erupted in a release so powerful time stopped. For the briefest of seconds, the entire world narrowed to one small woman. Then it slammed back with a roar of sound.

He’d never be the same.

As he collapsed to the side, his heart pounded, his lungs panted, and his legs shook. He yanked the comforter over them and wrapped his arms around Sarah. Tight against her, reality crashed home. He’d mated her.

“I love you, Milaya.” He tucked her securely into his body where he could keep her safe. Forever.

“I love you, too,” she mumbled, snuggling her butt closer.

His cock woke up. “Um, we need to talk.”

“Later. Sleep now.”

“No.” He rolled her under him, propping his weight on his elbows. She opened her eyes to glare. Amusement had him fighting a grin. She looked like a grumpy kitten. Then he sobered. “I mated you.”

The sleep cleared from her eyes. “Huh?” She rubbed her neck where the puncture wound had closed, but the outline—his bite—would always remain. “You bit me.”

“Yeah.” He shouldn’t be feeling such intense pleasure from that fact.

She gasped. A tiny frown furrowed her eyebrows. “I’m immortal?”

“Well, you will be soon. I mean, not immortal completely. We can die by beheading.” Not to mention what the damn virus could do to her. “I’m sorry.”

“Well”—she slid both hands up his arms to clasp his shoulders—“I figured we’d get around to the mating part after the courting and dating. But we’ve done everything else backwards, so what the heck.”

He shook his head, thinking she didn’t understand. “You’re not mad?”

“No.” A mischievous smile settled on her kissable lips. “I like the idea of being immortal. It’s very cool. I do love you. But I still want the courtship part.”

“You’ll get the courtship part.” He’d never understand the woman. But damn, he loved her.

Her breath caught. “Hey. So, now that we’re mated, will my gift kick in with you? I mean, will I be able to see images from objects you touch?”

“Probably.” If it made her happy, he’d touch whatever she wanted. “In fact, as your chromosomal pairs alter, you’ll probably feel a bunch of changes.”

“Wow. So many changes.” Intrigue had her lips bowing in concentration.

The plan he wanted to hit her with made even more sense now. He hoped she’d agree so he didn’t have to force her to headquarters. Though he’d do what he had to do. “Speaking of changes, I’ve been thinking.”

“That sounds scary.” Her small hands caressed his shoulders.

“Yeah. Well, you can’t go back to your teaching job, can you?”

“No.” The woman had a pretty pout. “Even though the doctor said I’m not crazy, I’m sure the school can’t hire me back. Maybe no school will hire me.”

Max kept his face bland while elation whipped through him. He certainly wasn’t qualified to do what she did naturally—what she was meant to do—teach. “Well, I happen to know of a teaching job where I live. We’re getting a bunch of animals soon.”

She huffed out a laugh. “The kids can’t be that bad, Max. Geez.”

He frowned. “No. Real animals. Shifters. You know, mainly mountain lion shifters, but maybe some wolves.”

Her hands stilled. “Shifters? Like real fantasy-channel people who shift into animals?”

“Yeah, and now that some of us are taking mates, there may be vampire kids, too.” They required a qualified teacher. He’d need to okay the plan with Dage, but his friend would agree. They were family, after all. “You’d also teach Janie, who’s human.”

“Oh.” Sarah’s smile lit up the room. “Where you live sounds like the perfect place for us to date. Count me in.”

Relief filled him. He’d have hated to kidnap her twice in one week. He rolled her so they could spoon. “I love you, Sarah.”

“See what a good plan and compromise can do? There’s hope for you yet.” She snuggled into him with a soft sigh. “I love you too, Max.”

Did you miss the other books in Rebecca’s
DARK PROTECTORS series?

Fated

Marry Me

Cara Paulsen does not give up easily. A scientist and a single mother, she’s used to fighting for what she wants, keeping a cool head, and doing whatever it takes to protect her daughter Janie. But “whatever it takes” has never before included a shotgun wedding to a dangerous-looking stranger with an attitude problem ...

Or Else

Sure, the mysterious Talen says that he’s there to protect Cara and Janie. He also says that he’s a three-hundred-year-old vampire. Of course, the way he touches her, Cara might actually believe he’s had that long to practice ...

Claimed

A Daring Rescue

Emma Paulsen is a geneticist driven by science. But she’s also a psychic, so when a dark, good-hearted vampire frees her from the clutches of the evil Kurjans, she realizes he must be the man who’s been haunting her dreams. But with a virus threatening vampires’ mates, Emma may discover a whole new meaning of “lovesick” ...

A Deadly Decision

As King of the Realm, Dage Kayrs has learned to practice diplomacy. Still, it’s taken three hundred years to find his mate, so he’ll stop at nothing to protect her—even if it means turning his back on his own kind ...

And don’t miss HUNTED, coming in May—turn the page for a sneak peek!

“She’s going to kill you,” his old friend muttered.

Conn Kayrs raised an eyebrow, cutting his eyes to Kellach from across the scarred table. He hadn’t been in Shea’s tavern in a century, yet the tables were the same. Beaten and solid. “She can try.” Damn, he hoped she tried. For no other reason than the excuse it gave him to put his hands on her. Finally. After all this time.

Kell tipped his ale back, his dark gaze remaining steady on the tavern door. “She’s coming.”

That she was. The air thickened as if in anticipation of a lightning strike—or a witch’s temper. Conn relaxed in his chair, stretching his long legs to cross at the ankles. His boots caught on worn grooves in the wood. “You might want to make yourself scarce.”

Kell tied his dark hair back at the nape, his shoulders tensing. “You may need backup.” He glanced at the row of patrons lining the bar on hand-carved wooden stools centuries old. Mostly witches, maybe a couple humans. People who lived on the northern coast of Ireland, happy in the knowledge most of the world didn’t know they existed. “Though we should clear everyone else out.”

Conn fought a grin. His friend sounded almost ... concerned.

As a fierce witch and a dangerous warrior, the enforcer for the council was trained in witchcraft and traditional war. Kellach’s main job was to protect the leading council, the Coven Nine. He feared no man. But a woman? Well now, that was another story.

“Your cousin isn’t that dangerous, Kell.” Though what did Conn know? Moira had been training for a century. Her skill set might be deadly. If so, they needed to get a couple things straight.

Several folks lining the bar cast wary glances over their shoulders. Even in this day and age, vampires were a scarcity in the north, so Conn kept his fangs hidden. He didn’t want to spook them—although his metallic eyes probably gave him away.

Watching carefully, he wondered if anyone would challenge him. He’d never battled a witch. They’d been allies of the Realm for centuries, though he often wondered about that. Witches kept their powers shrouded in secrecy. Not even his king knew the full extent of what magic allowed them to create.

Kell’s lips tightened in his rugged face. “Moira is the seventh sister of the seventh sister. All power. You have no idea what you’re doing, my friend. She told you not to come to Ireland, and you should’ve listened. You shouldn’t be—”

The door swept open on a gust of wind. Electricity crackled through the room. Moira stepped inside, her green gaze hard on Conn. His heart seized. How did he forget her beauty? Her power? Her tiny size?

Conn scraped back his chair and stood. “Hello, mate.”

Her focus remained on him. “Get out.”

Stools toppled, chairs clattered, and patrons stumbled in a mass exodus. He couldn’t help his grin as the door slammed shut behind her. Even from across the room her scent of lilacs whispered toward him. Tempted him. “Feeling dramatic, Dailtín?”

“I believe I’ve asked you not to call me a brat.” She stepped into the empty tavern, all grace, all intent. “Kellach, please leave.”

“Yes Kell. Get the hell out,” Conn said cheerfully, his gaze on his mate. He’d missed those rioting red curls and that translucent skin—almost as much as he’d missed the fire in her eyes and the spirit in her tiny form. Almost. Her lilting voice grabbed him around the throat and squeezed.

With a muttered, “It’s your funeral,” Kellach stalked outside. The air relaxed as his power dissipated.

Silence. Alone in the bar, Moira and Conn stared at each other for a moment.

Finally, she sighed and tugged a hand through her wild curls. “You need to go home, Connlan.”

He ran his gaze to her toes and back up, truly appreciating the faded jeans and tight white shirt decorated with Celtic knots. The sight of the dainty witch in modern clothing reached deep in his gut and twisted. His woman had been relaxing. The need to take her to the floor nearly had him lunging. “Or what?”

Fire flashed in her emerald eyes. “Or I’ll destroy you.” Power all but danced on her skin with the threat.

Damn. That voice, that spirit. His heart leaped to life and his cock jumped to attention. “Think so?”

She sucked in air, her hands fisting and then relaxing at her sides.

That’s right sweetheart. Center yourself. He gestured toward Kell’s vacated chair. “Have a seat.”

“No. You need to leave, Conn. Please.” Determination and a hint of desperation broke through her calm façade.

He cocked his head to the side, unease tickling his nape. “Did you just say please?” Every instinct he owned flared to life. “What the hell’s going on, Moira?”

Her eyes widened just enough for him to doubt her intent. “I need time, Conn.”

“I’ve given you a hundred years.” Why the hell is she trying the innocent approach? “I told you eight months ago I was coming.” He’d meant to fly across the ocean the next day, but war had intruded. Being commander of the Realm’s soldiers often took a heavy toll.

“I need more. Just a bit, to prepare to, uh—”

“Prepare for what?”

The morning after he’d marked her, when her father wanted his head on a spike, he’d tried to make peace. One moonlit night he’d taken her virginity and she’d taken his heart. Fate had made an appearance, forming the Kayrs marking on his palm that he’d transferred to her hip during sex. Even so, he’d signed the treaty promising to leave her be for a century—to train as the Seventh. Time was up.

“We had a one-night stand and ended up mated. That’s all.” She sighed. “You want to solidify our alliance. But I’m not ready to, um, concentrate on us.”

He waited.

She clasped her hands together. “I’m asking for more time. Just a little.”

“Why?”

“Do you trust me?”

“No.” Not in a million years. “Try to play me and you’ll regret it, céadsearc.” Sweetheart. He’d learned the endearment the night she sighed it in his ear, her body wrapped around his, her darkening eyes stealing his heart forever.

“I’m asking you. Go home.”

Studying her guileless expression, he stepped out from behind the table so nothing separated them but highly charged air. He’d trained as a soldier, the best in the world, and his instincts were finely honed. Drawing on those, drawing on his gut, he lowered his chin. “No.”

Fiery temper swirled in her belly and it took every ounce of Moira’s control to keep from lighting the jackass on fire. She’d tried to be reasonable with him. A soldier, the best, the only thing he understood was battle strategy and bullets. Fine. “I’ve asked you nicely.”

He smiled. Slow. Dangerous—a warning from a true predator. “Don’t get me wrong, Dailtín. I like you soft and pleading.”

His rumbling voice heated the fire already burning in her. Memories of her pleading for his touch, for his claim, escaped the box she usually shut them in. One night. One long, delicious night with him so many years ago. Her nipples peaked along with her anger. Her gaze swept him. Well over six feet, eyes the color of the deepest riverbed—dark and green and too knowing. Thick shoulders, powerful thighs, and his handsome face proved the Creator was a woman. A goddess. Only a goddess would’ve spent time ensuring each sharp hollow and rugged peak somehow combined into lethal masculine beauty.

She avoided looking at his broad hands. Too many memories of those clever fingers that had brought pleasure ... his leaving had brought pain. He hadn’t wanted to keep her a century ago. An emotional shove down took care of the ding in her heart. He sure as hell wasn’t going to claim her now just because of Realm politics. “I don’t want to hurt you, Connlan.” Her voice softened as she spoke the absolute truth. “But I will.”

He reached for a band from his pocket and tied back the thick mass of dark hair whispering for her touch. When did he grow it to his shoulders? “Let’s get to it then.” His stance widened, his gaze narrowed. “Show me what you’ve got, baby.”

She centered all thoughts, her hands opening palms up at her sides. “I hoped you’d be reasonable.” Bullocks. She’d hoped he’d come to get her before now ... before he had to. Because he wanted her. Air began to stir, tempting her nostrils with the scent of gunpowder and sage. Connlan.

He raised an eyebrow, peering down at her. “Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?” While he phrased it as a question, command tinged each word. “You’re scared ... and I find I don’t like that. At all.” He measured her, his gaze roaming her body and leaving tingles in its wake. “Are you frightened of me?” His brows furrowed.

“Not even a little bit.” She allowed her voice to quiet to keep from cracking.

His face smoothed out, a dark eyebrow rising. “There’s someone more dangerous than me?” His full lips quirked and a dimple winked in his left cheek.

That damn dimple. “No.”

Not a being existed on earth more dangerous than Connlan Kayrs. He even dressed as a soldier in black cargo pants and a dark long-sleeved shirt, no doubt hiding weapons.

But she saw no reason to lie to him. “I’m busy right now, Conn. Events are taking place and I need to be involved. I have work to do.”

“Let me help.”

Moira shut her eyes. Such an offer—the temptation to accept warred with common sense. With reality. She opened them. “I wish you could.” Regret flushed through her. “We mated a century ago. Another decade won’t matter.” Bitterness tinged her words.

Conn’s eyes darkened. “It takes a century for a witch to come into power, to study and learn. So I gave you the time. Because you asked nicely.” He took a step forward. “I’m done.”

The threat and determination in his gaze washed sadness through her. This is about duty and power, not love or passion. “We shagged once, Conn. One night isn’t going to determine my fate, marking or not.” She’d never forget the heated pain of him marking the front of her left hipbone as her orgasm exploded—right before his did. He’d left her the next day to deal with the aftermath, with the anger of her people that their Seventh had mated for all time with a vampire.

He held his right palm toward her, showcasing the intricate design with the raised K in the middle. “You’re not the only one with a brand, darlin’. I wear the mark, too.”

The Kayrs marking. Legend declared the brand appeared when a Kayrs met his mate, transferring during sex. “I’ve read of your family, Conn. Some matings were arranged.”

“So?” His voice rumbled lower with anger and warning.

The wind outside increased in power, beating against the high row of windows to get in. A storm threatened. Moira lifted her chin, meeting his gaze. “Did you mark me on purpose?”

Conn took another step toward her, his jaw firming. “Are you asking if I forced the mark on my hand and then on your flesh?”

She fought the urge to retreat. “Yes.” Enough with fate and destiny. I’m sick of the pressure. “You know what I am—the line I hold.”

“I do. You have the potential to be the most powerful ruler the Council of the Coven Nine has ever claimed.”

“Yes.” Fire ripped through her. His family ruled the vampire world and thus the Realm, a coalition of powerful allies including shifters and witches. “Quite the allegiance our mating might make for the Realm.”

“But our mating didn’t cement anything, now did it?” Tension spiraled from him. “Because you needed space—because you haven’t declared your intention to be mine.” Something in his tone promised she’d be making such a declaration soon.

He didn’t know her or what she could do. She’d disappear before allowing herself to be used as a political pawn in his war. “You’d do anything for the Realm.”

“Ah, Moira,” his voice softened to a deadly tone, “you’re miscalculating here.”

She suppressed a shiver. “Why’s that?”

“The second I marked you, the second you became mine ...” Something flashed in his eyes. Regret? Anger?

She doubted being forced to wait a century had been difficult for him, and wishing for such a thing was just silly. A century ago he’d agreed to leave way too easily. And now he shows up on the eve the Realm is at war with the Kurjans? The Realm needed the Coven Nine to continue the alliance—especially since the demons had declared war as well. “Your family, the Realm is everything to you. You would’ve mated for political reasons.” He probably had. Duty was all but stamped on his handsome face.

Not by one twitch of an eyelash did his expression alter. “Possibly.”

“Did you?” Her voice dropped to a hush. Her body steeled for the emotional blow.

“No.” Silver began to thread through the green of his eyes—true proof of a vampire’s anger. “I didn’t consciously mark you, Moira.” Conn blew out a breath. “But I felt the rightness of it. The belonging when the marking appeared.” His stance settled again. “You were meant to be mine, and I’m taking you home.”

The certainty of his vow convinced her as nothing else could have. He’d told her once he didn’t lie or threaten. A vampire like him didn’t need to do either. He wouldn’t leave easily.

She sighed. “I’m staying here.” She drew her fingers in, allowing molecules to reshape from her energy. Quantum physics at its finest. “You’re leaving.”

He flashed his teeth. “Get to it.”

With a nod, she concentrated on the invisible molecules in the air, throwing subatomic particles through them to alter the matter into pure, dangerous burning energy. She’d been coming to Shea’s for decades and had taken her first drink at the bar. Damaging the tavern would not only bother her, it would totally tick off Danny Shea, and the old witch would tell her parents. As well as charge her triple for any repairs. She needed to be careful and aim just for Conn.

Electric blue plasma wavered and then formed into the size of a cantaloupe in her right hand, which she pulled back and threw at his torso.

The mass flashed through the air. She felt a quick moment of regret. The energy wouldn’t kill him, but oh man would it hurt. The ball would singe his skin like a very bad sunburn. It was merely the beginning.

She expected him to evade and order her to stop its movement. Instead, his lips tipped ever so slightly, and he held out a hand. The plasma ball halted mid-flight, then swept forward until it hovered above his palm. Captured.

Moira stepped back. Her breath caught in her throat. “That’s impossible.” She’d focused her own energy into the matter to create the force. No one else could control her creation. Fear slithered down her spine.

He shrugged, shifted, and threw the orb at her with an impressive push-off.

She leaped to the side, the ball rushing past her to collide with a bar stool, sending the worn seat into the air to land back with a crash. The scent of ozone whipped through the space. Her knees gave, and she clutched the edge of the bar, digging her nails into the wood, her eyes wide on Conn.

“How?” Her voice trembled, but she was beyond caring. Straightening, she unclenched her fingers and pivoted to face him. How can he not only take my energy but use it against me? Impossible.

He shrugged. “What exactly do you think I’ve been doing this last century?”

Adrenaline flowed down her back through tissue and muscle, causing her to feel a bit lightheaded. “Training the Realm’s soldiers for the war we all knew was coming.” The war with the Kurjans, the pasty-white bloodsucking monsters who were afraid of the sun.

Conn nearly grinned. “Yes. The vampires and shifters are prepared. But I multitasked.”

“Multitasked?” Her voice waivered while dread ripped through her. The deadliest soldier ever born to the vampires, multitasked? He’s kidding me. “Meaning what?” Only force of will kept her knees from buckling. Again.

“You know exactly what I mean. Rumor has it you’ve been training—swords, guns, knives ... even hand to hand.” Two long strides had him a foot away from her. “Now darlin’, where do you suppose you gained those skills?” A dark flush whirled over his high cheekbones.

She angled her head to meet his eyes square on. “I worked damn hard on them, Connlan.”

His thumb and forefinger grasped her chin and his eyes darkened. “I’m sure you did. When we mated, Moira, my skills became yours.” Leaning down, he brushed his lips across hers before straightening back up. “And yours became mine.”

Her breath hitched. Her heart swelled. Her thighs softened. All from one small kiss. She jerked out of his grasp. “Bollocks. You lead the soldiers of the Realm. You don’t study.”

Genuine amusement lit his eyes. “You think I merely hit things?”

Well, yeah. “I assume you play chess once in a while with the king, but other than that ...”

He laughed—a true throw-your-head-back deep masculine chuckle. “While my brother and I do enjoy games of strategy, some studying is often involved.”

Military strategy, maybe. “You’re telling me you’ve spent the last century studying quantum physics, string theory, and the other applications of magic?”

“Of course.” His gaze dropped to her lips, making them throb in response. “I mated a witch. A basic understanding of all scientific principles, most notably quantum physics, is necessary to manipulate energy and matter.”

To practice magic. True magic. Her mind spun on all that was holy. “So you can manipulate my energy. Since we’ve mated.” Son of a bitch. How in the hell am I going to keep him out of my life now?

He cocked his head. “Now’s the time to tell me what has you so frightened.”

“I can handle my own problems, Conn.”

Irritation curled his lip, hinting at a temper she really didn’t want to see. “Did you truly think I’d leave you alone, Moira? With Virus-27 on the loose? With witchcraft being used to harm people?”

She closed her eyes briefly. The virus created by the Kurjans to attack vampire mates—to take them genetically down to human form and maybe beyond—by using genetic science combined with quantum physics and true magic. “Yes.”

Her gaze focused on him again. Virus-27 was the absolute least of her worries right now. Her mind scrambled for something, anything to get him to leave.

He exhaled, taking a step forward into her space again. Sage and power swirled around her in the scent of male. “I’m done waiting, Moira.” One large hand smoothed through her curls, clenching to tangle at the nape of her neck and tugging back.

Her neck stretched and her hands reached out for balance, grabbing the shirt covering his broad chest. She opened her mouth to protest.

His descended.

Firm lips slid against hers. Heat seared her, shooting down from her mouth to her core. She swayed toward him, opening her mouth to allow entrance. Like the soldier he was, he dove in, all purpose, all blazing fire, his lips capturing hers as his tongue took control. The brand on her hip began to burn with desperate need.

He growled low, grasping her waist and tugging her flat against him. His mouth devoured hers, his tongue claiming every inch, the hand on her hip clenching with restrained power. The erection against her belly jumped with demand.

Her knees weakened. Her heart pounded. Desire for him lit her on fire. Need spiraled deep into her womb. She craved.

Releasing her, he lifted his head, his fingers spreading out to cup her scalp. Desire shot silver through the green of his eyes. A muscle ticced in his jaw. “Let’s go to your cottage, Moira.”

She sucked in a breath, her eyes widening on him. Was there anything more intriguing to a woman than a strong man who wanted her? Memories of what this man could do with his hands, with his mouth, flushed through her mind until her body ached. She ran her hands down his flat stomach to curl around his leather belt. They’d had one night. It wasn’t like she’d practiced sex this last century. “Not a good idea, Conn.”

“Why not?”

Because I don’t know what to do. “I don’t want you.” She lowered her chin.

“Liar.” His eyes softened.

It had better not be in understanding.

Then he cut his gaze behind her, a frown settling between his masculine brows.

“What?” She released his belt, an odd tingling running over her neck. The air changed. Her skin heated. Matter shifted and energy zapped. Oxygen swirled. A passage opened. “Conn—”

Invisible claws dug into her flesh and ripped her away from him.

BRAVA BOOKS are published by

Kensington Publishing Corp.
119 West 40th Street
New York, New York 10018

Copyright © 2012 Rebecca Zanetti

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

BRAVA and the B logo are Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.

ISBN: 978-0-7582-7700-8

Table of Contents

- Title Page
- Prologue
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Teaser chapter
- Teaser chapter
- Copyright Page