Treasured Find (Royal Pride Book 1) (31 page)

She glanced at the cute homes and raised a brow. “Dangerous?”

“Oh yes, very. You should have a man with you at all times.” He grinned. “Even in bed.”

She sighed. With controlled motions, she closed her ultra-light computer, slipped it into its padded bag and leveled her narrowed eyes at the local tour guide. The guy was handsome enough and had even quickened her pulse when he’d brushed against her, but she didn’t have time to explore what that meant. Work ruled her life. Men and sex were squeezed in when she had time. With a potential disastrous plague looming on the horizon, she didn’t have any to spare.

“Thank you for your concern, but I’ll be fine. I know how to take care of myself.”

He studied her a moment more. One corner of his mouth quirked. “If you say so.”

She knew exactly what he saw: an attractive woman dressed in mismatched clothes, no makeup and her hair in a sloppy ponytail. There was a coffee stain on her jeans and a piece of duct tape covering a hole in her parka.

Why would he think she could take care of herself when she looked like a bum?

His opinion didn’t matter, though. Only hers did, and she rarely cared what she looked like. Besides, new clothes required a trip to the store. She hadn’t been able to squeeze that into her schedule in months.

“I do.”

He stroked his fingertips along her arm. “If you get lonely, call me. I only live an hour south.”

He stared expectantly at her. She inwardly sighed. Remembering her sister’s last lecture where she’d told Cat to stop being rude to people just because she didn’t have time for them, she forced a small nod. A smile seemed too much of an effort. “Sure, I’ll keep that in mind.”

A grin spread over his face. He slid his hand up her thigh. “How about I finish my runs for the day and return? It gets cold here at night. I can keep you warm, safe and”—he inched his fingers higher, dangerously close to her crotch—“satisfied.”

Apparently, trying to be polite had been the wrong choice. Luckily, she knew how to remedy the situation. She pulled a six-inch dagger from her boot—a gift from Roland, the seventy-year old veteran who ran her research center as if he were still a commander in the army. After a coworker had been raped and killed walking home to her apartment, he had handed them out to all the female employees. She didn’t delude herself into thinking she could actually use the knife. It was for show only.

“Touch me again, and you’ll regret it.” The man jerked his hand away. She grinned. “Like I said, I can take care of myself. As for getting cold? That’s what blankets are for.”

“So I see.” He reached over her and unlocked her door. “Enjoy your stay.”

She climbed out, cradling her backpack to her chest. A brown-haired local rushed forward with a huge, welcoming smile on his face. He took the rest of her bags and motioned her forward.

“Cat Saunders, welcome. I’m Ivan. I’ve been awaiting your arrival.”

The name registered in her cluttered brain.
The owner of the local hotel.
She fell into step next to him.

“Thanks. Your city is lovely.” Cold and harsh, but pretty nonetheless.

“We think so.” He led her toward a large red home. “It’s a wonderful place to live. Well, it was until our residents started turning up murdered.”

She stumbled. “Murdered?”

Ivan handed her bags to a teenage boy and faced her, a frown on his face. “The thirty-three deaths that occurred here over the past couple of months. That is why you’ve come, isn’t it?”

She inclined her head. “What makes you think they were killed?”

“Well,”—he ran a hand through his hair—“they were all attacked.”

She tensed. There’d been nothing in her report of any attacks. How was she supposed to uncover the source of the virus if she didn’t know all the facts? The lack of knowledge bothered her. Could the CDC’s accusation about falsified data be true? She bit her lip. No. If the townspeople had been murdered, then the government wouldn’t have blamed the deaths on a genetic disorder.

Dammit, someone was twisting the facts. That was sacrilege in her eyes. Data should never be altered.

“And what’s your take on it?”

“The same as I told the authorities.” He lowered his voice. “The fire demons have risen.”

Of course.
The lack of detail made sense. Nobody in their right mind would add a supernatural creature to the list of possible causes. Yet, the fact that they’d been attacked should’ve been included.

Unease tightened her shoulders. “Fire demons?”

“Yes. Do you know what they are?”

She shook her head. “Are they from a local legend?”

“Partially. Here they go by the name
eldjötnar
, though they are known by many names.”

The term meant nothing to her. She hadn’t cared to learn mythology when science offered hard facts she could understand.

“So these…” She bit the inside of her cheek to stop her laughter. “These demons are common here?”

“No. They’ve risen from their death-sleep.”

She repeated the words in her head. “Death-sleep? Like vampires?”

His eyes lit up. He nodded. “Yes, vampires. That term fits, though they are not the undead. They are the
eldjötnar
.”

Her mouth dropped open. He couldn’t be serious. “Living vampires?”

“Yes.” He sighed. “You do not believe either?”

No.
“I’m here to find the source of the deaths. If vampires or demons or
eldjötnar
caused them, then that’s what I’ll report to my supervisors.”
Right after I tell them I’m actually a famous movie star or maybe the Queen of England.

Ivan’s smile returned. “Good. I’ll let you get settled, then we can talk more. I have many books I can show you that detail their legends.” He rested a hand on her arm. Unlike the tour guide’s touch, Ivan’s felt protective, not salacious. “Be careful not to wander far.”

Ivan disappeared into the hotel. She stared at the closed door for a long moment.
Vampires?
She shook her head.
Surely, the man was nuts. Vampires weren’t real. Neither were demons or
eldjötnar
, whatever the hell they were.

She pivoted on her heel and studied the village, searching for another resident to ask. There wasn’t anyone within sight. Afraid to be out alone, maybe? If there were blood-sucking undead walking around, people would stay inside. Then again, it might just be too damn cold to be outside.

Her survey paused on the tavern. Music and laughter drifted out when somebody slipped inside. Drunks would share their tales with her, especially if she supplied their booze.

She slipped her backpack over her shoulders and made her way to the bar. Halfway across the uneven path, she froze. The sensation of someone watching her raised the hair on her arms. She scanned the area but didn’t see anything or anyone unusual. She shook off the odd occurrence and stepped forward, right into the open arms of the biggest man she’d ever seen.

Bluish-gray eyes filled her vision. They mesmerized her. She stared into them for a long moment before her need to soak in details forced her gaze from his. Dark, wavy hair framed a face she would have expected to grace the cover of a magazine. Not too long or short, his thick locks were the perfect length to run her fingers through. She slid her gaze to his jaw. The shadow of a beard darkened his lightly tanned skin.

Her breath escaped in a shaky exhale.
Gorgeous.
The man awakened everything feminine in her. She dropped her attention to the full lips she wanted on hers. They curved into a smile, showing off straight white teeth. Her knees went weak. She fisted his sweatshirt and dragged in a deep breath to ground herself.

His scent filled her lungs. Crisp and clear, it reminded her of autumn morning; the refreshing kind where mist covered the ground and your breath fogged the air. She swayed with a sudden wave of dizziness. He firmed his grip on her hips. Grateful for his steadying hold, she leaned into him. He slipped a hand under her jacket and skimmed it up her spine. A moan that sounded too breathless and needy fell from her lips. She heard it, knew she was the one who made the wanton sound, but couldn’t understand why it had come out.

There was a reason she shouldn’t be in a stranger’s arms or
any
guy’s arms for that matter. She couldn’t make her mind work to figure it out. Each pass of his fingertips along her back scattered her thoughts as soon as they came.

She bit her cheek. The pain helped her focus.

Time.

The word skittered through her foggy brain. Of course. She didn’t have time. Damn if she could remember what was so important that she wouldn’t want to enjoy the sensations building within her. They felt familiar and exactly what she’d always been missing in her lovers’ arms.

What the hell?

She tipped her head to peer into his face and maybe trigger a memory. Had she met him before? Fucked him before? The blue-gray hue of his eyes reminded her of a stormy sky—unique and captivating. No. She’d remember that color.

“Cat.”

Her name spoken in his gravelly voice aroused her instantly, pooling warmth low. He bent his head toward hers. She sensed his intent, but she couldn’t move away. Her body relaxed more. Anticipation built. She needed him to kiss her.

Choose her.

Claim her.

No, something’s not right. This isn’t like me.

Guys didn’t turn her into a bundle of hormones. She opened her mouth to finally voice her concern. He closed the scant inch between them. His lips brushed hers, and her thoughts scattered once more. Tingles spread, igniting her nerve endings. She shivered, and he slammed their bodies together.

A gasp escaped her. He slipped his tongue past her parted lips. With gentle strokes, he coaxed her into a hesitant kiss. She followed his lead, unable to resist his seduction. Dammit, she should. The reason hovered at the edge of her mind. It was something other than a lack of time. She couldn’t grasp it, not while he rolled his tongue with hers and moaned.

Dear God, she loved that sound. There was something about making a man lose control that pushed her over the edge. It made her feel powerful. Sexy. Desirable.

She curled her fingers around the back of his neck. The silky strands of his hair under her fingertips stirred her desires. She wanted to feel the locks teasing her chest, her belly, her inner thighs. She groaned and took over the kiss.

He tugged at her bag. She wiggled. The backpack slipped free and landed with a thump. Concern for her electronics rose. It faded with the hungry growl he shoved down her throat.

Her feet left the ground. She wrapped her legs around his waist, grateful he held her. It made it easier to kiss him. Their teeth banged as the kiss grew wicked. His moans matched hers. She dug her fingers into his scalp and pulled him closer.

Cat, my Cat. Want to love you.

She froze at the words she heard in her head. Had she imagined them? He kept kissing her, working his tongue into her mouth and stroking hers. She must have. She shook off the thought and kissed him back.

That’s right. Kiss me. Need you to warm me as no other female has. I need you to be my life.

There was no mistaking the voice. He spoke to her telepathically.

Not right, not right.
She had to get away. She captured his tongue and bit at the same time as she shoved against his chest. She fell on her ass. He bent over her a second later. Glowing eyes locked on to her.

She screamed.

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About the Author

A true romantic at heart, Nancy Corrigan is convinced there’s a knight in shining armor for every woman (or man), but you won’t find damsels in distress in her stories. She adores pairing alpha heroes with women strong enough to match them and bring them to their knees. She also enjoys flipping the traditional roles in romances because her motto is—love and people should never be forced to conform to anyone’s norm.

She holds a degree in chemistry and has worked in research but now focuses on ensuring quality. She considers it the perfect outlet for her as she’s the first to admit she has some OCD tendencies. It carries over into her writing life too. While engrossed in a novel, she has a habit of forgetting to eat and sleep. Fortunately, she’s married to her own knight in shining armor who understands her oddities and loves her anyway. They reside in Pennsylvania with their three children, dog, snake and guinea pigs. Her other interests include tattoos, animals, classic cars and all things spooky and sexy.

 

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Nancy loves to hear from her readers. If you have a comment or question, email her at
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Thank you for reading Treasured Find.

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