Predatory (Immortal Guardians #3.5)(11)

Somewhere in his lust-hazed mind, Niko knew he was behaving badly.

Even for a man who rarely bothered himself with tedious things like good manners or proper behavior, he understood you didn’t grab a woman who was furious with you and kiss her like a Neanderthal.

But he’d spent six long weeks denying his rampant desire for this female, pretending that she was just a pawn in his game while he used every excuse to spend time in her company.

Now shockwaves of pleasure jolted through him, making it all blindingly clear.

This woman wasn’t a pawn.

She wasn’t bait.

She was . . . his.

His hands trailed up the delicate line of her back, his c**k already hard and aching for release. He groaned, his tongue dipping between her lips to taste the warm, sweet woman who’d plagued his dreams.

She shivered, but his hunter instincts were easily able to sense it wasn’t with fear.

He could hear the rapid beat of her heart, feel the rush of blood beneath her satin skin and catch the scent of her stirring arousal.

She was angry with him, but that didn’t halt her response to his touch.

His hand swept beneath the thick curtain of her hair, cupping her nape as he deepened the kiss.

He wanted to toss her on the bed just inches away and devour every satin inch of her. Over and over.

Unfortunately that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.

Not only was Dylan still on the loose, but he suspected that Angela was far more innocent than most females her age.

When he finally had her in his bed he wanted all night to demonstrate why she should remain there.

Reluctantly lifting his head, he gazed down at her upturned face. Over the past weeks he’d memorized every line and curve of her delicate features. Not because of his Sentinel training, but because he’d been fascinated by her quiet beauty. The velvet darkness of her eyes and the lush curve of her mouth.

He’d even learned to recognize the play of emotion over her expressive features.

He knew when she furrowed her brow she was lost in her clever thoughts. And when she chewed her bottom lip she was feeling awkward in a conversation. And when her eyes grew dreamy she was thinking of him.

He stroked a finger over the soft color staining her cheeks.

“You are so beautiful.”

She sucked in a shaky breath, her wide eyes dazed. “What are you doing?”

His finger moved to outline her lips. How long had he’d wondered what they would taste like? It seemed an eternity.

Now he knew.

Cherries.

Fresh cherries still warm from the sunshine.

“What I wanted to do from the minute I caught sight of you.”

She briefly allowed herself to become lost in his gaze, revealing far more of her vulnerable need than she realized. Then, obviously remembering why he was in her bedroom, oh, and the fact she currently hated him, she gave a sharp shake of her head.

“Liar. This is some new trick to try and—”

He kissed her again.

Okay, maybe he was a Neanderthal. At least where Angela Locke was concerned.

He wanted to brand her. With his touch, his kiss, his passion . . .

He swallowed her choked groan, his hands shifting to tenderly cup her face. Slowly he savored the taste of cherries and delectable woman, his thumbs stroking over the fluttering pulse just below her jaw.

It wasn’t until she was arching toward him in silent need that he lifted his head to meet her unfocused gaze.

“You were right,” he murmured.

She blinked. “I was?”

“I could have watched you from the shadows.”

Another blink. “Then why didn’t you?”

He peered deep into her wide eyes. “You know why.”

“Niko—”

“We need to leave,” he interrupted, forcing himself to drop his hands.

He’d been a Sentinel for a very, very long time. And never had he lost sight of his goal.

But with this woman . . . dammit.

He was in real danger of allowing himself to be distracted.

Which was a perfect way to get them both killed.

She frowned, struggling to follow his words. “Leave?”

“Dylan hasn’t given up her obsession of becoming normal.”

“Oh.” She pushed back her hair with an unsteady hand. “I don’t understand.”

“Understand what?”

“Why is she so anxious to become normal? There’s a lot of people like you, isn’t there?”

“Like us,” he corrected, knowing at some point she was going to have to accept that she was special. “And yes, there are high-bloods all over the world. But most are able to pass as common norms with a little effort.”

She ignored his reminder she wasn’t one of the norms. Typical. In the past six weeks he’d realized that Angela was capable of ignoring any number of things. Including her less than “normal” ability to manipulate cells.

“Is her physical appearance all that’s different about her?”

“No.” He held her gaze. “She’s a Sentinel. Like me.”

Her expression hardened at the reminder of his position. She might melt at his touch, but she wasn’t going to forgive anytime soon.

“A better Sentinel than you?” she taunted.

“No, not better than me.”