Authors: Monica Burns
"You seem quite certain of your facts."
"Well, I didn't actually see you kill someone, if that's what you're implying," she snapped. "But I know death when I see it--feel it."
He didn't doubt her. He'd seen the morgue photos of her parents in her case file, and he'd seen Russwin's body in Cairo. He could empathize with her, too. But when it came to denying his past--he couldn't. As a Sicari, he was trained to kill. Blood stained his hands, but he killed only to protect the innocent or administer justice when the legal system failed. A Sicari didn't kill for pleasure. It was against their code of honor. Now Praetorian warriors--those bastards enjoyed torturing their prey. They didn't believe in honor. If they'd ever had any honor at all, it had died out of their bloodline when the Roman Empire fell.
"There are some who find killing a pleasurable occupation," he said coldly. He didn't like admitting it, but the condemnation in her voice stung.
"I'm sorry." She heaved a sigh. "I felt the pain of your loss, and I understand what it's like to want justice for someone you care about."
The muscle in his cheek twitched. Mater Dei, the woman had seen a hell of a lot more than he thought. Did she know the Sicari Order had a file on her--on her entire family? He should have left the house the moment he realized she was here.
But he hadn't.
Biting the inside of his cheek, he turned away from her. Leave it to him to trust his librarians' research and not his gut. Sandro and Octavia were going to wish they were still file clerks when he got through with them. Emma Zale had never heard of the Tyet of Isis until tonight. He'd bet his life on it.
Fotte.
He'd put her at risk by coming here. All it took was one fleeting thought for a Praetorian to realize she knew something--even if it was only a sliver of information. A growl of frustration rumbled out of him. At this point he wasn't left with much in the way of choices. He whirled around to face her. She jumped back, her hands up in a gesture of surrender.
"Look, I don't have what you're looking for. So just go. I promise to forget the whole thing."
"It's not quite that easy," he muttered.
"Of course it is. You just turn and walk out of here." She pointed toward the door. "You can still walk, can't you?"
Despite the gravity of the situation, her sarcasm made him laugh. She refused to be bullied in spite of her fear. Eyes wide with surprise, she stared up at him. With another chuckle, he bent his head toward her.
"I like you, Emma Zale." She looked at him in amazement, and he laughed softly. "You're going to need that humor of yours."
"How in the hell do you know my name?"
"The same way I knew where to find you." He shrugged. The less she knew, the safer she was. The more she knew, the harder it would go for her if the Praetorians caught up with her.
"That's not an answer and you know it."
"True, but it's the only one you'll get for the moment."
"What the hell does that mean?"
"It means you'll have to come with me," he said with resignation. Taking her with him was the last thing he wanted to do. Emma Zale meant trouble. And problems he could do without. She'd only complicate matters for him.
"I'm not going anywhere with you." Her mouth tightened in a rebellious pout.
"Unfortunately, you don't have a choice."
"That's what you think," Emma snapped. With a vicious shove, she knocked him off balance and leaped toward the door.
"Deus damno id, woman."
He quickly recovered his equilibrium then reached out with his mind to stop her. She stumbled as he forced her to face him. Gritting his teeth, Ares narrowed his eyes at her. It was time Emma Zale realized exactly what she was up against. Slowly, he pulled her toward him.
She fought every step of the way, but he easily overpowered her resistance. His ability had limits dependent on distance as well as his physical and mental exertion, but she didn't know that. And manipulating her wasn't that difficult. With little effort at all, he forced her to cross the room until she stood less than a foot away from him. Jaw clenched in anger, his thoughts sent her stumbling forward until her body pressed into his.
The scent of coconut butter filled his nostrils as his body reacted to hers. The primal response startled him. Arms at his sides, he held her tight against him with nothing more than his thoughts. Damno, she felt good.
"Afraid?" he growled, irritated she could affect his senses so easily.
"No," she snapped.
"Not even just a little?"
His anger gave way to something else as he studied the succulent fullness of her mouth. The moment he visualized rubbing his thumb across her plump bottom lip, she gasped. Her hand flew to her mouth, her fingers touching the spot that fascinated him.
"Let me go." Anger made her eyes flash with amber sparks.
Definitely feisty.
"I don't see me holding you against your will." He clasped his hands behind his back with a sense of satisfaction. A second later, he pictured her arms sliding up to encircle his neck. Outrage parted her lips in a loud gasp as she reached up to cling to him. He bit back a smile at the sound.
"If you don't let me go, I'm going to scream," she snapped.
"No. I don't think you will."
Lowering his head, he lightly brushed his mouth across hers. Her body went rigid with surprise, but he barely noticed as he unclasped his hands and reached for her waist.
Sweet.
She tasted sweet with just a tinge of citrus. He wanted more. His hands cupping her face, he deepened the kiss, teasing himself with the warm flavor of her. Releasing his mental hold on her, he half expected her to pull away. She didn't.
He nibbled at her bottom lip, waiting to see if she'd open herself up to him. When she did, he eagerly explored the heat of her soft mouth. His body hardened in a split second. Christus, she was hot against his tongue. Hot, sweet, and delectable. His hands slid down over her shoulders and across her back until he cupped the lush curve of her bottom.
With a tug, Ares removed the breath of air between their bodies, his cock pressing into her soft thigh. Desire sent his hand upward over her hip until his fingers brushed across the fullness of her breast, and his thumb rubbed over a hard nipple. She felt good.
Sexy and tempting in the best possible way.
The image of her naked beneath him sent his temperature skyrocketing. His control slipped further as she shifted her hips against his in a carnal move that left him throbbing with need. The buttery sweet fragrance of her filled his senses, whetting his appetite for more. A moment later, her hand caressed him through his trousers. He groaned with pleasure as he eagerly pressed himself into her palm.
Damno, he wanted her hand around his bare flesh. No, he wanted a hell of a lot more than that. And God knew she was eager and willing. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been laid, and this woman would be a hell of a lot more than just a one-night stand. The sweet softness of her would keep him coming back for more of the same. The jarring thought pierced the emotions raging through him.
Fotte.
What was he doing?
He jerked free of her and shoved his fingers through his hair. He'd only meant to silence her. He'd known she'd be trouble, but this had the makings of a disaster. He shot her a quick glance then looked away. That flushed, just kissed, look of hers only managed to make him hotter and a damned sight more uncomfortable. Furious with his behavior and his lack of discipline for the second time in one evening, he gritted his teeth. The best way to deal with the problem Emma Zale posed was to keep his distance mentally and physically. Still infuriated by his inability to master his attraction to her, he scowled at her.
"Do you wish me to continue my demonstration?"
"Of what?
Your ability to control my physical movements or your unwanted attentions?"
She returned his glare as she deliberately wiped her hand across her mouth. His eyes narrowed.
"I don't recall you protesting too loudly," he snapped.
Heat crested in her cheeks as Emma clenched her fists. Hell, he was a manipulative bastard, but he was right. She had kissed him back. She'd enjoyed kissing him. Worse than that, she'd caressed the hard thickness of him with the intimacy of a lover. And she'd wanted him.
Wanted him in the worst possible way.
The hot ache between her thighs told her that.
What had possessed her to get so caught up in a kiss she'd been willing to let him do whatever he wanted with her? She winced with disgust at her thoughts. She was out of her frigging mind. The man had broken into her home, held her hostage--how in the hell could she be attracted to him?
The muted chime of the doorbell suddenly echoed in the study. He jerked his head toward the closed door. She watched him as he evaluated the situation in the same way a predator calculated threats. The doorbell rang again. Without a word, he reached out and grabbed her arm. Dragging her with him, he pulled her into the dark hallway. The blackened corridor made her balk. It had been this dark when she'd found Charlie.
"No," she exclaimed. "I--"
In a heartbeat, he covered her mouth with his large hand and jerked her backward into his chest. The moment his hard, muscular frame pressed into her back, a rush of heat flooded her veins. Nestled against him like this created a pleasurable, intimate warmth she didn't want to enjoy. But she did. She liked it far too much. God, she really had lost her mind.
"Were you expecting someone?" He breathed into her ear. "Just nod yes or no."
She nodded. Earlier at the memorial service, Ewan had said he might come by to check on her.
If it was anyone she knew, it would be him.
The doorbell chimed again and once more immediately after. Only Ewan rang the bell like that. Impatient and often irritating, it didn't change the fact that he was brilliant when it came to ancient civilizations.
"It's my friend, Ewan," she mumbled into the hand covering her mouth.
The intruder tightened his hold on her, his arm riding up to brush against the underside of her breasts. Her body tingled at the contact. The warmth of his breath caressed her cheek as he pressed his mouth to her ear.
"It's not safe for you here, Emma." He hesitated. She could feel it in the way his hard body relaxed against hers.
He eased his hand away from her mouth and turned her to face him. The indecision in his expression startled her. After everything she'd seen, she knew it was a foreign emotion to him. For the first time she began to think he really was concerned for her welfare. She shook her head slightly.
"Why isn't it safe?"
"I can't tell you that right now. There's no time. You'll just have to trust me."
"Oh right." She sniffed with derision as the doorbell rang again. "Look, if I don't let Ewan in, he's going to call the police."
"Answer it," he rasped with harsh resolve. "But when he's gone, you're coming with me, Emma. Count on it."
"Go to hell," she snapped in a breathy whisper as the doorbell rang again.
He gave her a slight push toward the foyer. Although it was still dark in the hallway, her eyes had adjusted to the small amount of available light. And for some reason his presence made the darkness a little less threatening. That made it official. She was insane. Stumbling forward, she moved down the hall as the doorbell rang for a fourth time.
"Hold your horses! I'm coming," she called out.
As she reached the front door, she looked over her shoulder. She couldn't see her fallen angel hidden in the shadows, and her heart jumped with dismay. With a quick flip of the hall light switch, she illuminated the entire corridor. He'd simply vanished. A shiver trailed down her spine. God, what the hell was going on here? This guy made Houdini look like an amateur.
No, not a magician.
The stranger was anything but that. Her hand slid over her wrist as she recalled his uncanny ability. Turning back to the door, she reached for the doorknob then froze. The dead bolt hadn't been touched. How in the hell had he gotten into the house? The sudden pounding on the opposite side of the door made her jump.