Born in Blood (The Sentinels #1)(58)

She blinked, struggling to concentrate on his words.

Dammit. She was the Queen of Composure. Nothing rattled her. Especially not a mere man.

But Duncan O’Conner possessed an aggravating ability to slip beneath her defenses.

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe you’re ashamed that people might suspect that you’ve lowered your standards to allow a barely civilized cop into your bed?”

She made a sound of disbelief at the idiotic suggestion. There wasn’t a woman alive who wouldn’t be proud to claim this man as her lover.

“If that was the case then I would never have spent the night with you.” She pointed out the obvious. “There isn’t anyone in Valhalla who doesn’t know we were together.”

His eyes narrowed, his cop face on full display. “Then why did you act like I was the enemy?”

She bit her lip, shifting to hide her expression from the onlookers. The man might be gorgeous, sexy, and unexpectedly tender beneath his macho facade, but he was as stubborn as a Missouri mule.

“It’s difficult.”

He hooked a finger beneath her chin, tilting back her head to regard her with open concern. “Talk to me, sweetheart.”

Okay. Fine. Maybe it was better if he knew.

“I’ve never been a couple,” she grudgingly admitted.

He stilled, his eyes focusing on her with laser intensity. Like a hunter catching sight of unexpected prey.

“Never?”

She shivered. Not with fear. But . . . anticipation.

“No. I’ve only dated a few times and they were always casual.”

His thumb brushed her lower lip, the light caress sending a jolt of sweet pleasure to the pit of her stomach.

“So I embarrassed you with my public display of affection?”

“Not exactly.”

“Callie?”

She wrinkled her nose, recalling her awkwardness this morning and then again when she’d first seen Duncan this afternoon.

“It’s more the fact I don’t understand the rules of the game.”

His expression softened, the wicked sensuality warming his hazel eyes.

“Between us there are no rules. We’ll work our way through this . . .” He leaned down to brush her lips in a light kiss. “Together.”

Another delectable shiver raced through her body and she lifted her hands to rest them against the hard contours of his chest.

“I don’t think your friends are going to approve.”

He nibbled the corner of her mouth. “Then they’re not my friends.”

An unexpected warmth spread through her heart at his simple words. Strange. Was it really that important to her that he wasn’t the least hesitant to claim her in public?

Obviously, it was.

“And your family?”

“I already promised I was taking you to Sunday dinner.”

It was once again the perfect answer, so naturally Callie panicked.

“No. I mean . . . not this Sunday.”

A wry smile tugged at his lips. “Why the cold feet?”

It was a legitimate question. And one she had no answer for.

Everything had turned upside down in the past two days.

Her belief that there were rigid laws of physics that controlled the powers of high-bloods.

The assumption that she had her peaceful, if somewhat isolated, future all planned out.

The unspoken rule that norms and freaks didn’t mix.

Was it any wonder she was torn between the intense desire to haul this man into the bushes and rip off his clothes and the urge to return to Valhalla and hide beneath her covers? Unfortunately, neither option was viable.

Not until they’d tracked down Lord Zakhar and put a stop to his gruesome abuse of the dead.

“I don’t think I’m ready.”

“Okay.” He dropped a light kiss on her nose before he pulled back and studied her with a resigned smile. “We’ll wait until you don’t hyperventilate at the mere mention of family.”

Her missing sense of humor returned at his gentle teasing. “So generous.”

“And when we’re working the case I’ll be professional,” he promised, a sinful heat melting the gold in his eyes until they shimmered in the afternoon sunlight. “Even if I’m counting the seconds until I can get you naked and lick you from top to bottom.”

Her heart slammed against her ribs in instant hunger. Suddenly the option of pushing him into the bushes and stripping off his clothes was much more viable.

Too viable.

“You are—”

“Yeah, I know. Barely civilized.” With a wicked grin he glanced over her shoulder. “We’d better go before Fane terrifies the entire KC police department into early retirement.”

Chapter Seventeen

With swift efficiency the medics had Leah’s body wrapped in a protective bag while Callie gave Duncan a condensed version of what they’d learned in Russia. With an equally condensed version, Duncan had shared his trip to the art expert, revealing the man had spoken of the coin being Sumerian in origin.

It was a step forward, but not nearly far enough or fast enough.

Deep inside her was a growing pulse of anxiety.

As if something was warning her that time was running out.

There was a faint stir from the cops still grouped together and, turning her head, Callie realized that Fane was coming to demand that they leave.