second the cameras were turned.
“Come on… come on…” he murmured, trying the key card in a dozen different positions. The lock light remained steadfastly red. He was running out of time. The cameras were slowly panning his way.
“Come on…” He fumbled one more time.
He was about to shoulder the door open when the light flashed green, and a click sounded. He dashed inside, whirling immediately to close the door before the camera caught any hint of activity.
Something rocketed from across the room, and he ducked just in time to avoid a vase that shattered an inch over his head. Water splashed his hair, and a tulip whacked him in the ear.
“Bloodsucking bastard—” Karen’s shout broke off when their eyes met.
Well, he hadn’t been expecting a kiss, but a vase?
He wiped the water off his face and held his hands up, because his green-eyed spitfire had a two-inch-thick glass ashtray in her hand, ready to hurl.
“It’s me,” he said.
Her eyes narrowed on him, taking aim for her next volley, perhaps.
“You,” she uttered, totally unimpressed.
His bear groaned inside.
She hates us, and it’s all your fault!
“Hey!” he protested out loud.
It wasn’t his fault this headstrong she-dragon had been taken captive by vampires — twice. It wasn’t his fault he’d had to pretend to play along with the vampires.
“Hey, what?” she demanded.
“I wasn’t talking to you,” he muttered, cursing his bear. “I mean…”
Karen lifted the ashtray and wound up her throwing arm for what was sure to be a hundred-mile-an-hour fastball she’d hurl his way.
“Wait!” he said, putting up his hands.
She didn’t wait, but she didn’t throw, either. She stomped right up to him and shoved him back against the door.
him, like he was the lightweight and she was the grizzly.
“Now you listen to me, bear,” she started.
He could have reacted in any of a dozen ways. He could have pinned her against the door and demanded to know if she was really a witch. He could have grabbed her by the arm, clamped a hand over her mouth, and carried her the hell out of that place. He could have tried to find the words to explain everything that had happened after the night they’d first met. But what did he do?
It happened before he even realized what he was up to. Some hidden switch inside him flipped, and all of a sudden, he was on fire. All the weeks of worrying and waiting, of hoping and fearing and scheming away. All the hours dreaming of the one night he’d shared with her — they all boiled up out of nowhere, making him crush her close and deliver the mother of all bear kisses. A deep, hungry, possessive kiss that screamed
I love you
Please, please, never throw a vase at me again.
He begged her. He consumed her. He marked her as his.
A second after Karen squeaked in surprise, her hands fisted in his shirt and pulled him closer. Her mouth opened under his, welcoming him to taste her. Demanding that he do so, in fact, and swiping his tongue with hers at the same time. She yanked him closer until her breasts were mashed against his chest, her heart pounding against his, her scent intoxicating him.
He got so lost in that kiss, they just about tipped over, but they both came up for air at the very same time. He blinked at her, and she blinked at him.
“Karen,” he whispered.
She opened her mouth but didn’t utter a peep. His indomitable she-dragon was tongue-tied, possibly for the first time in her life.
Then the need surged back, and he kissed her again. He turned and held her against the door this time, gently — or maybe not so gently. He couldn’t tell any more, but since the sounds Karen made were of the
More, baby, more,
variety, he kept at it, feeling like he’d never get enough of his mate.
His mate. Jesus. Could his mate really be half witch?
Witch. Dragon. Whatever,
his bear muttered inside.
All that mattered was that she was his and he was hers