“What?”
“There are four bedrooms.” He studied her with an unnerving intensity. Even in the darkness she knew what he was seeing. Short, jet black hair with blue streaks, mussed from sleep. A pale face with delicate features that were dominated by a pair of eyes so dark they looked black. His gaze lowered to the tattoo of a rose wrapped around a candle that ran from below her right ear down to her shoulder, before lingering on the diamond piercing in each nostril. His expression remained unreadable, but there was no missing the thickening of the intoxicating musk that filled the air. “Why did you choose mine?”
Isi hesitated. There was no way in hell she was going to admit she’d been drawn to the room because it’d eased the sickness that was a constant companion.
Not when an awful, unbearable suspicion was beginning to form in the back of her mind.
“It had the best view,” she at last muttered.
His lips brushed a searing path of temptation down her throat. “Liar.”
Her heart slammed against her ribs and her pussy clenched in brutal need as his lips teased the pulse at the base of her neck.
Oh…hell.
Without warning, she was suddenly slamming her fists against his chest, desperately trying to wriggle from beneath his hard body. There was no way to disguise her stupid arousal from the man’s freakishly sensitive senses, but she’d be damned if she’d lie there like an obedient doll.
“Get. Off.”
Lifting his head, the man frowned in confusion as he tried to halt her attack without hurting her. “Settle down, female.”
“Not until you release me.”
He hissed as she raked her nails down his face, rolling to the side so she could scramble off the bed.
“Damn wildcat,” he muttered, his gaze running a brooding path down her slender body covered by a pair of silk shorts and camisole top.
Instinctively she folded her arms over her breasts, more to hide the hardened points of her nipples than out of any sort of modesty.
Young girls raised in orphanages didn’t have the privilege of being bashful.
“Tell me your name,” she commanded.
He continued to sprawl across the heavy four-poster bed that matched the hand-carved furniture that filled the second story room. He should have looked ridiculous in the cozy setting with handwoven rugs, walls lined with stuffed bookcases, and the echoes of a loving childhood, but he didn’t.
He looked…at home.
A familiar pang of envy sliced through her heart before she was squashing the worthless regret.
Homes were places you kept your shit until you moved on to the next place. End of story.
“Talon,” he said, his voice rubbing over her skin like rough silk.
Isi frowned. She had a vague memory of Ashe mentioning the Hunter who had been tracking down Pantera traitors.
“No one told me you lived here.” She edged her way toward the door. She needed to be away from the disturbing cat. Far, far away. “I’ll go somewhere else.”
“Where?”
“Home.” She didn’t know what she was going to say until the word left her lips, but suddenly she knew that’s exactly where she was going. She’d had enough of freaking Pantera and their soggy Wildlands. She belonged in New Orleans, running her shop. “Where I should have gone weeks ago.”
“What about your sister?”
She shrugged, continuing to inch toward the door. “I can come back.”
With a blur of motion, Talon was off the bed and blocking her path. “No.”
Her jaw clenched as she was forced to come to a halt. “No?”
He planted his fists on his hips, the T-shirt stretched tight over the sculpted muscles of his chest.
“Raphael sent me here to protect you.” He didn’t bother to hide his anger at being stuck on babysitting duty. “I can’t do that if you leave the Wildlands.”
Her chin tilted. “Thanks, fur ball, but I’ve been taking care of myself a long time.”
The golden eyes narrowed. “What is it with you and my fur?”
“I want it staying the hell away from me.”
He prowled forward, his heat wrapping around her with sensuous pleasure. “You weren’t so averse to me and my fur when you were clinging to me and telling me how good it felt.”
She meant to hold her ground. She really did. But as he continued his ruthless path forward, she discovered herself retreating until her back was pressed against a tall bookcase.
Annoying ass.
“That was—”
He halted inches away, his hands lifting to grip the shelf on each side of her head. “What?”
“I was suddenly feeling better, that’s all.”
“Raphael mentioned it has something to do with the house,” he said, his gaze lowering to the pulse that thundered at the base of her throat.
Isi grimaced. Yeah. She’d thought it was the house.
Until Talon appeared and the illness went from manageable to completely gone.
“Whatever,” she muttered. “I’ll feel even better at my own house.”
He leaned down, his breath searing over her lips like a kiss. “Ain’t. Gonna. Happen.”
“It’s not your decision.”
“Do you think you would last one second without Raphael’s protection?”
“So he keeps telling me.” Her lips flattened with a stubborn determination. She’d allowed herself to be bullied into staying for weeks. Or at least she told herself she’d been bullied. Otherwise she would have to admit that she stayed for Ashe. An unacceptable explanation. “How do I know that’s not just bullshit to keep me here?”
“Raphael doesn’t have to use empty threats,” Talon warned. “If he decides to keep you here, I guarantee you that you’ll stay. One way or another.”
She glared into the savagely beautiful face. “So when you said you’re here to guard me, you meant I’m your prisoner.”
“Raphael asked me to make sure you continued to help to his mate.”
Oh, yes. Raphael had made it clear that he would move heaven and earth to protect his mate and child.
Which didn’t make her jealous at all. Nope. Not at all.
“And what I want doesn’t matter?” she snapped.
“No.”
She gave a humorless laugh at his complete lack of apology. “Nice.”
“It’s the way it is.”
“Fine.” She dipped down to slip under his arm, heading toward the door. “I’m too tired to argue.”
“Where are you going?” he demanded, once again moving to stand in her way.
“To another room.”
“Why?” He had the balls to reach out and lightly grasp her chin, turning her head toward the bed dominating the room. “This bed is all toasty warm.”
“You said this was your room.”
His thumb brushed her lower lips, his touch sending a rush of arousal through her. “I’ll share.”
Her mouth went dry as the vivid image of being spread naked across the mattress as this man kissed a path from the top of her blue-streaked hair to the tips of her fuchsia-painted toes blazed through her mind.
Desire streaked through her, white hot and so fierce it made her knees week.
God, she had to get out of there.
“In your dreams,” she said, the words sounding lame even to her.
His gaze followed his thumb as it traced the stubborn line of her jaw.
“We’re stuck here together,” he murmured, his voice husky with invitation. “We might as well enjoy our time.”
She slapped away his hand before stepping around his body and heading toward the door with a grim determination.
Dammit.
She didn’t know what was wrong with her.
The man was a damned cat. And worse, he considered her nothing more than an unwelcome duty.