****
Dumbfounded, Cole stared at the door of the study as it closed with a resounding thud. He’d never experienced such a swift, all-consuming kick of attraction—attraction hell, it was pure, unadulterated lust—for a female before, and it left him off balance.
Way
off balance. The scent of her still lingered in the room, wrapping around his senses. His knees had gone weak, his breathing hitched awkwardly in his chest. Odin’s teeth, he was damned near drooling with need. He dragged a hand across the back of his neck, doing his level best to reassemble his scattered wits. For Loki’s sake, drooling? Drooling! He wasn’t some damned Werewolf, thank the gods.
It took him a full minute for her words to sink in, and a moment longer to remember the note in his hand. Whoever she was, she possessed the face of an angel, the body of a goddess, and one hell of a short fuse. His brow wrinkled. She hadn’t even batted an eyelash when he’d hit her with the full force of his powers of suggestion. By Valhalla, who did she think she was?
With a growing sense of unease, Cole flipped the note open and scanned the missive. He dropped his head back on his shoulders. The string of Norse profanities that burst from his lips would have made a berserker blush.
Yanking the door to the study open, Cole glanced to both ends of the hallway. Tipping his head back, his nostrils flaring, he sucked in a deep draw of air, searching for her. It wasn’t hard to find her. The scent of wild honey beckoned him. Following her scent trail down the hallway, he ignored the sound of music blaring from the back yard.
56
Moving with phenomenal speed, Cole swore beneath his breath as he skidded down first one hallway and then another, mentally kicking himself. How had she’d gotten so far ahead of him on those ice-pick heels? For the first time in he couldn’t remember how long, he’d stopped thinking with his head and let another part of his anatomy take over his cognitive abilities—and he
wasn’t
talking about his fangs. In the process, he’d gone and royally pissed off the one woman he’d meant to impress…or reassure, at the very least.
By Thor, how could he have mistaken her for some damned groupie?
In all fairness, he hadn’t been expecting her for at least another hour or so, but still, he didn’t have any excuse for what just happened. In the past, he’d
never
allowed his attraction for a female to rule him, body or mind, and now he was beginning to understand exactly why.
He caught up with her just as she jerked the front door open. Cole skidded to a halt, biting back a hiss as brutal sunlight poured in through the doorway, pooling on the cool marble a few short inches from the toes of his boots. She shot a scathing look over her shoulder and stepped blissfully where any sane Vampyre feared to tread. Straight into a sizzling, direct UV caress.
He’d screwed up, big time. He wouldn’t get another chance with her. He had to fix this. What the hell was he supposed to say to her?
“Alexandra…” Gritting his teeth against the ferocious sting of sunlight on his sensitive Vampyre flesh, he rushed after her.
She paused again, just long enough to sniff down her nose at him and roll her eyes in unmistakable disbelief. Undeterred, she dug in her purse as she made her way down the steps.
57
Navigating the gravel drive must prove tricky in heels like that, but she did an admirable job of maintaining her dignity as she darted for her vehicle.
The beauty snapped over her shoulder, “Get a clue, buddy, I’m not interested.”
“Alexandra,”
Cole growled insistently,
shielding his eyes with one hand as he reached out with the other to snag her elbow. Gods, what he wouldn’t give right now to be able to control her thoughts. The first thing he’d do was to convince her to go back inside, out of this sizzling sunlight. His gaze slid down the tantalizing curves of her body. Then maybe he’d convince her that those clothes were too uncomfortable. That the only thing she should be wearing…was him.
She glowered at him, yanking her arm from his carefully restrained grip. “Just give your boss the note. Do yourself a favor and find someone else. In case you didn’t hear me, the answer is no—not interested—not even tempted.” The interest in her eyes was plain to see. The temptation crackled between the two of them like a bolt of lightning shot straight from Thor’s hand.
Like hell, she wasn’t tempted. Cole narrowly managed to bite back the angry retort, but it still echoed inside his head.
His fangs stretched, an occurrence that only happened in an extremely heightened emotional state, or when he fed. Fiercely battling his body’s involuntary reaction to her, he drew a deep breath and held the transformation at bay by sheer dint of will. Chasing her scent down the hall sure as hell hadn’t helped him keep the predator within leashed, either. Even now, her essence tormented him, made the darker side of his nature howl for a taste. Only the bite of the sun held him in check.
58
Taking a firm grip on her arm, Cole tugged her around to face him. Her eyes glittered like brilliant aquamarines trapping the sun, lit from within.
“Alexandra, please,” he argued, doing his best to maintain a level, reassuring tone. “Just come back inside for one minute and let me—” She gave her arm another furious yank again, cutting his words short. Only this time, rather than gaining her freedom, her footwear betrayed her. She slipped on the loose gravel, wrenching her ankle. Crystalline eyes went wide with pain, and she tumbled headlong into his arms.
Cole moved with lightning quick reflexes. His arms shot around her, instinctively dragging her against him, supporting the majority of her meager weight. She clutched at his shoulders to maintain any semblance of balance. She lifted her shocked gaze, her lips mere inches from his…no distance at all. Her breath snagged in her throat and her heart lurched in her chest, the sounds were sweet music to his ears.
“Let go of me,” she whispered, swallowing hard.
He ignored her soft entreaty, did his best to ignore the tight press of her body against his. By Thor, she fit so well…as if she’d been designed specifically for him. For him and him alone.
“Are you all right? Did you hurt yourself?”
“I’m fine,” she claimed. She was a poor liar.
Cole forced the breath in and out of his lungs and told his arms to let go of her. Unfortunately, his arms—along with every other part of his anatomy—had taken on a mind of its own today.
Just then, a thick cloud covered the sun, giving his flaming skin a much-needed break. At this point, his control could ill afford the reprieve.
The scent of her perfume writhed around his 59
brain, effectively paralyzing his ability to control his thoughts. The feel of her lithe curves, pressing every intimate detail against his body, started a chain reaction his system couldn’t seem to handle. One he had little to no hope of stopping.
The blood in his brain rushed to his loins making coherent speech next thing to impossible. His fangs throbbed.
His mesmerizing gaze fell to her lips. He
needed
to taste her. Her delectable lips first, and then her sweet, tempting vein. Just one tiny, little taste… One small, harmless sip… The kiss she would remember, the sip she would not.
Bare seconds before their lips connected, she shifted in his arms, unwittingly placing her weight on her injured ankle. Gasping, she sagged against him. The spell they’d both fallen headlong into shattered.
Cole pulled back, blinking. His hands tightened on her in concern. “You
are
hurt!” The sun broke through the cloud-cover, and Cole sucked in a sharp breath, squinting against the brutal rays. With an impatient oath, without permission, he swept her off her feet, cradling her high against his chest and carried her back inside the house.
“What are you doing?” Alex demanded, breathless, thumping his chest with a small fist.
Her voice rose, strengthened, her eyes widened incredulously. “You’re going the wrong way, my car is over there. Put me down.” Though she squirmed in his arms like a she-cat, pummeling at his chest with a fury, he didn’t flinch. He pushed the door open, then stalked back down the blessedly cool hallways he’d just raced through moments before.
“Damn it…put me down...” Her voice trailed off, then exploded with alarming vengeance.
60
“Good God, who the hell do you think you are?” Without breaking stride, Cole tipped his face to hers and offered her a charming, if misplaced grin that barely concealed the lethal tips of his fangs. “Allow me to introduce myself, Ms.
Sinclair.” She stilled in his arms, obviously waiting for the other shoe to fall. It dropped with a resounding thud. “I’m Cole Gunnarrson. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
The fight went right out of her.
“Oh,
hell…”
She gaped at him in
astonishment, and fell silent. So much for her cool composure.
Amused but wise enough not to let it show, Cole tucked away his wry smirk as he carried her back inside his den and kicked the door closed behind him. He lowered her to the sofa, and then strode over to the desk, bending down to remove two cans of Danny’s beer from the mini bar. He hurried back to her side, dropping onto the coffee table directly in front of her.
Cole set the cans on the table beside him and turned his attention to her ankle. With infinite care, he skimmed his fingers down the silky skin of her calf, lifting it as he went, until he held her foot cradled in his lap. She was helpless but to stare. When he loosened the ankle strap on her shoe and slipped it from her foot, she finally reacted.
She blinked at him, pushing in vain at his hands. “Please, don’t do that, just let me—”
“Can you move it?” His fingers trailed over her delicate skin, his eyes probing for any abnormal swelling.
Damn, she has nice ankles.
And trim calves. And sexy knees. And a
gorgeous
…
By the gods, he was starting to sound like the proverbial big bad wolf. Zack would be
so
proud.
61
Cole stifled a snort of self-disgust.
She flexed her foot, shifting her ankle this way and that, testing her range of motion. “I think it’s just a mild sprain. You can let me go now. I should go—”
Her words ended on a sharp hiss as Cole laid the icy cold cans against the sides of her ankle.
She gritted her teeth, but she wasn’t able to stand it for more than a moment or two, however, and made no bones about telling him so.
“The cans are too hard, that hurts worse than the sprain. I’ll be fine, I swear,” she insisted.
“Just let me…”
The cans weren’t the only thing that was too hard. He’d be willing to bet that right now his pain was just as sharp as hers was. He cut her off with a mere look. Removing the cans from her ankle, he popped the top on one, and thrust the can into her hands before she could protest.
“Here,” he offered with a supercilious smile.
“You look like you could use it.” He set the other can down and shifted her foot to the table beside the unopened beer. “Sit tight.”
He went back to the mini bar and pulled a small tray of ice from the machine. Cole glanced about the room for a moment, searching for something to pour the ice in. Giving a slight shrug, he grasped the hem of his shirt and whipped it over his head. Her sharply indrawn breath pricked his ears, snaring his attention.
From beneath lowered lashes, he considered her with no small amount of male satisfaction. Her eyes, locked on his body, rounded owlishly, and her mouth had fallen open. The sound of her breath shuddering in and out, and the stuttering of her heartbeat, kicked his already raging desire back into high gear.
62
Not interested, my ass,
he could have crowed aloud.
Grinning like a cock in the henhouse, he laid his shirt flat on the desk and twisted the ice tray above it, pouring the ice into a neat little pile.
Tossing the tray aside, he gathered the edges of his shirt up, forming a small pouch.
Cole ran his tongue over his teeth and, once assured his fangs had receded…for the most part, at least…he turned a wide grin in her direction.
His reward was the sharp snap of her teeth and a fierce scowl. The challenge was irresistible.
Working relationship or not, Mortal or not, he’d developed a craving…for her. One, it seemed, that was determined to grow ravenously until it was fed.
This time, rather than sitting on the table, he dropped to the sofa at her side. Cole took her by surprise when he scooped both her legs up and drew them across his lap, leaving her no choice but to turn sideways on the sofa to face him—or risk her skirt riding farther up her thighs. His wicked grin hinted that might have been his plan all along.
Leaning close, deliberately crowding her, Cole stuffed a throw pillow behind her back and nudged her back to relax against it. He held the makeshift ice pack on her injured ankle while his free hand ran over the top of her uninjured foot.
His deft fingers released the strap and removed that shoe as well.
Protest bubbled in her eyes, but she remained silent, easing back against the cushion, eyeing him with wary resignation. Everything about him screamed dangerous predator, and yet she wasn’t afraid of him. Wary, yes…but not afraid. He marveled at that.