Born in Blood (The Sentinels #1)(18)

Zak stepped forward, the overhead light catching in his faceted eyes until they shimmered with blinding glitter that filled the room.

“Is there a reason you want me to wait?”

“I don’t want you taking unnecessary risks.” Her chin tilted. “I have devoted my life to you.”

“You have devoted your life to the hope that I will make you a queen.”

He watched her shrug. “So what? I’m a woman with ambition.”

“Just make certain you’re a woman who is prepared to travel to the temple.”

“I will be prepared,” she promised with an arrogance that could rival his own. “So long as you don’t get both of us killed before you can get your hands on the coin.”

“Careful, Anya. You aren’t the only means of taking me where I need to go.” He smiled. “Understood?”

The very gentleness of his threat made Anya grasp the small amulet hung around her neck even as she hurried toward the door.

“Bastard.”

“So they say,” he murmured toward her retreating back.

Duncan had done some stupid things in his life.

Hell, he’d done stupid on a spectacular level.

There was the time he’d emptied his savings account to buy a piece of shit sports car that died before he got it out of the driveway.

The night he’d chased a perp into gang territory and had the crap beaten out of him.

The day he decided to swing by home to surprise Susan only to find her enjoying a little afternoon delight in their bed.

And ten minutes ago when he’d promised Callie all he wanted was a kiss.

Anyone who knew him realized that he had impulse control problems.

Like a five-year-old, he never believed in deferring pleasure when he could have immediate satisfaction.

But Callie had naively accepted his promise, melting into his arms with such trust he couldn’t possibly take advantage of her.

Dammit.

Grimly shackling his desire that thundered through his rigid body, Duncan concentrated on the intoxicating taste of Callie’s lips. Until this minute he’d considered kissing a necessary step to getting a woman naked beneath him. It might be enjoyable, but only because it led to the ultimate destination.

He’d never truly appreciated the pleasure in simply ... smooching.

Now he savored every slow brush of their mouths. The wet heat when he dipped his tongue between her lips. Her shudder when he spread tiny caresses over her upturned face.

Cupping her nape with one hand, he allowed the other to stroke through the silken strands of her hair. It was perfect for this woman. Soft, yet with a spunky fire that would always keep a man in place.

At least any man fortunate enough to earn a place in her secluded world.

The reminder that he would soon be returning to his life of murders, sleepless nights, and empty apartments while this extraordinary woman remained hidden behind the magic of Valhalla had him fusing their lips with a kiss that bordered on desperation.

She returned the heat and fury for a blissful second, then with a faint frown she pulled back to study his brooding expression.

“Duncan?”

“I’ve wondered for so long what you taste like,” he rasped.

Her tongue peeked out to touch her swollen lips in an unconscious gesture that made him groan in agony.

He might have developed a sudden addiction to sweet Callie-kisses, but that didn’t mean his c**k was happy to be all revved up with no place to go.

“And what’s the verdict?” she asked.

“Danger.”

She blinked, the stunning gemstone eyes shimmering with an inner glow.

God ... they were glorious.

Mesmerizing.

“I taste of danger?”

“Yes.”

“I’m not sure what that means.”

His lips twisted. If she’d been any other woman he would never have offered her such a powerful weapon. History had taught him that women, even good women, enjoyed holding the whip if a man was foolish enough to put it in her hand.

And knowing that a man was willing to give anything, pay any price, to have a female in his bed was one hell of a whip.

“Good.”

She shook her head. “Do you always speak in riddles?”

His eyes lowered to her lips. “I’d rather not be speaking at all.”

A blush stained her cheeks, but even as his gut clenched with anticipation there was a sharp rap on the door.

“Go away,” he snapped, his gaze never shifting from the invitation of her lips.

“You have a call.” A male voice floated through the wooden barrier.

“Take a message.”

“Duncan, it could be important,” Callie chided.

“I’ll call back later.”

“It’s your chief,” the voice said with an unmistakable hint of satisfaction at the untimely interruption. A friend of Fane’s or just another male anxious to be with Callie? “She says it’s important.”

“Shit.”

Reluctantly, Duncan dropped his arms and stepped back. If Molinari was calling then it had to be important.

Which meant his brief time with Callie was well and truly over.

Obviously coming to the same conclusion, Callie moved to pull open the door just far enough to speak to the handsome young man standing in the hall. “Has the call been transferred?”