Leopard's Kiss (Shadow Guardians) (Shadows Guardians Book 1) by Stephanie Rowe Read Free Book Online Page A

watched her, fascinated, as emotions raced across her face while she considered and dismissed options. She was utterly unaware of his scrutiny, too focused on her own problem-solving to watch him.
    Irritation rippled through him. He'd already tried to kill her once, and he'd openly admitted he hadn't decided whether to abort the mission. Yet, she'd dismissed him as a threat and was taking no precautions against another attack? Did she have no sense of self-preservation whatsoever? He scowled. "Anya."
    She didn't even look at him, her lips moving silently while she talked to herself.
    "Anya." He repeated her name, and still she didn't notice him.
    "Anya!" He leapt across the room, grasped her arms, and lifted her against the wall, pinning her there with his body.
    Her eyes widened, and she froze. "How do you move so quickly?"
    He blinked. "What?"
    "That was so fast. What are you? Part cheetah? Are you a shifter?"
    "Hell, woman. Are you thick?" He pressed his body more tightly against hers, and slid his hand through her hair, tangling his fingers in her tresses so he had a good grip. "Don't you understand the situation you're in?" He bent his head, trying not to think about how good it felt to be pressed up against her. "I'm an assassin assigned to kill you, and you're not paying any attention to me." His mouth hovered over hers, a fraction of an inch from her lips. "I could kill you in a heartbeat, and I still might. One kiss and you're mine. You need to be protecting yourself, not asking me about my feline heritage."
    She sighed, her breath warm against his mouth. "I'm not an idiot. If I sat on that couch ready for you to attack me, it would make no difference. I have no chance against you if you decide to kill me, but by being so tense and ready, I would quickly drain myself of what little reserves I have left. So, why worry about it? If you decide to help me, then I need a plan. If you ditch me here, I need a plan. And if you do change your mind and decide to kill me in the future, I'd better have figured something out by then. But right here, right now? I can't stop you."
    He narrowed his eyes, trying desperately to wrap his mind around her logic. "Why aren't you trying to plead your case? Change my mind. Beg for my mercy."
    She smiled then, that same honest smile that made his body tighten. "Because you're a merciless assassin. You've trained yourself not to process that kind of thing. I'm sure people beg for their lives the moment you walk in the door, and you don't even notice it. The only thing that will reach you is if you see the real me, if you feel me in your heart. That's all that will stop you, so the best thing I can do is just be me." She searched his face, making no attempt to squirm free or pry his fingers from their threatening hold on her hair. "You already see me differently," she said softly. "I can see it in your eyes. They aren't as cold. They're less black when you look at me now. They're softer. Not much, but a little."
    He swore under his breath, making her smile widen. "See?" she said. "You're already struggling with the idea of killing me. I can see the conflict on your face."
    "No." He met her gaze. "I'm not struggling with that decision. I've tabled it for now. What I'm struggling with is the fact that you awaken a burning lust inside me that makes me want to throw you on that couch, rip your clothes off, and bury myself inside you a thousand times until my need for you is sated. That's what I'm struggling with."
    She blinked, and heat suddenly ignited between them.
    Shit. He hadn't meant to say that. What the hell was she doing to him? He was an icon of discipline and focus. He didn't get uncontrollable hard-ons for women, and he didn't lust after the females he was supposed to kill.
    Her eyes widened, and her body tensed against his. "You mean that."
    "Of course I do. I have no time for games." He didn't bother to recant. He'd said it. He meant it. It was what it was. He bent his head, angling