Obsession Untamed (Feral Warriors #2)(11)

“I had a cat once,” she told him. “I had a lot of things once, until a scumbag caught my mom on a deserted stretch of running trail.” She shrugged. “Now I have a purpose.”

As she divested herself of both weapons and kicked off her shoes, she felt like the cat was studying her. Something in his eyes almost seemed to be assessing her.

As if she hadn’t gotten enough of that from Phil already.

She shook her head at him. “I don’t have to justify myself to you, too. I didn’t invite you in here, in case you’ve forgotten.” She unfastened her pants and slid them down her hips, then turned her back on him as she reached into her closet for a hanger. “You’re welcome to go anytime you want to, just don’t look at me like I don’t measure up.”

“I’d say your measurements are just about perfect.”

Delaney spun at the sound of the deep male voice. And froze. The D.C. Vampire stood in her doorway watching her as intently as the cat had moments before.

Son of a bitch.

Her headache and jitters disappeared in a rush of adrenaline and anger. This time, he was going down.

She whirled, reaching for her Glock. And never touched it. He slammed her back against the wall, wrenching her arms above her head, capturing her wrists in a single large hand even as he pressed his body against hers. Eye to eye with the buttons of his burgundy silk shirt, she fought for her life. Struggling to free her hands, she tried to ram her knee into his groin.

He stopped her cold, nailing her to the wall with his pelvis.

Her breath heaved. Fury swirled in her mind as his size and sheer strength overwhelmed her. Twice, he’d gotten her. Twice. It was inexcusable.

The blood pounded fast and hard through her veins as she stared up into his face, her own reflected in his dark wraparound sunglasses. God, she’d never seen anyone so ugly on the inside who was so incredibly good-looking on the outside. Was that how he got so close to his victims?

Her mind lurched with realization. “How did you get in here?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” His voice was deep and rich, as pleasing as his looks even as he gripped her jaw, immobilizing her with an ease that terrified her. For years, she’d trained hard so this kind of thing wouldn’t happen. So she wouldn’t find herself the prey instead of the hunter.

So she wouldn’t end up like her mother.

Yet, in the end, she had. The tightness of the killer’s mouth, the determination in every line of his face let her know he intended to finish what he’d started yesterday. And her utter inability to move beneath his iron grip told her there was nothing she could do to stop him.

Blast it! If she thought begging would help, she might have tried to force the words past her pride. But not for a second did she believe he’d listen to her. The man had shown his other victims no mercy whatsoever. None. For God’s sake, he’d killed two children.

He was utterly without a conscience.

Hatred flared hot and coarse, burning through her blood. “You’re going to pay, you bastard, for all the lives you’ve stolen. Sooner or later, they’ll catch you, and you’re going to fry.”

“Right,” he muttered.

She tried again to jerk her face out of his hold, but he only tightened his grip.

“Hold still, or you’re going to have bruises.”

His words caught her so off guard, she laughed, a single, humorless release of sound. “Bruises? Are you kidding? I’m going to be dead.”

“I’m not going to kill you.” The words were terse. Frustrated. “Now will you look into my goddamn eyes?”

She stared at him. Was it possible she was dreaming this? Maybe having a fever-induced nightmare? Because the way this was going down made less than no sense. The killer, appearing out of nowhere, only wanted her to look into his eyes. Right.

But incomprehensible or not, she knew she wasn’t dreaming. The bite of the man’s fingers on her jaw was too clear. His scent too real. Too…luscious.

She groaned. “I’ve got to be dreaming.”

“You are dreaming. Now look into my eyes!”

“I am!” she snapped back. “Or I’m trying to. It might be easier to do if you took off those ridiculous sunglasses. In case you hadn’t noticed, it’s nighttime.”

He growled low, the sound almost that of a jungle animal. Oh yeah, she was moving from nightmare to delirium. Any minute now Phil the Easter Bunny was going to hop into the room. And she probably wouldn’t even notice, so mesmerized was she by the killer’s amazing mouth.

Definitely delirious.

Something brushed her mind, a softness, almost a warmth that eased the lingering pain of the vision.

“You won’t remember my face,” the man murmured softly in that deep, sexy voice.

“Of course not.” Like she could ever forget that face.

He wasn’t beautiful. Such a word implied a degree of softness, and there wasn’t one soft thing about the man’s features. Strong jaw, hard cheekbones, and a mouth that could have been sculpted by the finest artist. Not a single softness about him, yet his looks were utterly arresting.

“I’m dreaming, remember?”

The growl that rumbled in the man’s throat sounded more pained than threatening, his mouth thinning with displeasure. The softness brushed her mind stronger than before, sending a shiver of pleasure rippling through her blood.