He stilled, his eyes cutting to Manny and back to the woman. “You want me to kill somebody?”
“Yes.”
He kept from outwardly reacting. Not much surprised him any longer, but he hadn’t been expecting a contract killing request from Lynn Harmony. “We’ve lost ninety-nine percent of the world’s population, darlin’. Half of the survivors are useless, and the other half is just trying to survive. You’d better have a good reason for wanting someone dead.”
“Useless isn’t an accurate description,” she said quietly.
“If they can’t help me, if they’re a hindrance, they’re fucking useless.” He’d turned off the switch deep down that discerned a gray area between the enemy and his people months ago, and there was no changing that. He’d become what was needed to survive and to live through desperate times. “You might want to remember that fact.”
Her shoulders went back, and she rested her head, staring up at the ceiling. “I’d love to be useless.”
He blinked and turned back around to the front. Her words had been soft, her tone sad, and her meaning heartbreaking. If he still had a heart. So the woman wanted to die, did she? No fucking way. The blood in her veins was more than a luxury, it might be a necessity. She didn’t get to die. “Please tell me you’re not the one I’m supposed to kill,” he said, his heart beating faster.
Silence ticked around the dented SUV for a moment. “Not yet, no.”
Great. All he needed was a depressed biological weapon in the form of a sexy brunette to mess with his already fucking fantastic daily schedule. “Lady, if you wanna eat a bullet, you should’ve done it before coming into my territory.” Since she was there, he was making use of her, and if that meant suicide watch around the clock, he’d provide the guards to keep her breathing.
“I know.” Fabric rustled, and she poked him in the neck. “When was your last injection?”
His head jerked as surprise flared his neurons to life. He grabbed her finger before turning and held tight. “Almost one month ago.”
She tried to free herself and then frowned when she failed. “You’re about due, then. How many vials of B do you have left?”
He tugged her closer until she was almost sitting in the front seat, his gaze near to hers. “Doesn’t matter. Now I have you, don’t I? If we find the cure, we won’t need vitamin B.” This close, under the dirt and fear, he could smell woman. Fresh and with a hint of—what was that—vanilla? No. Gardenias. Spicy and wild.
She shook her head and again tried to free herself. “You can have all the blood you want. It won’t help.”
“Stop the car,” he said to Manny.
Manny nodded and pulled over. Jax released Lynn’s finger, stepped out of the vehicle, and pressed into the backseat next to her.
Her eyes widened, and she huddled back against the other door.
He drew a hood from his back pocket. “Come here, darlin’.”
“No.” She scrambled away, her hands out.
With a sigh, he reached for a zip tie in his vest and way too easily secured her hands together. A second later, he pulled the hood over her head. He didn’t like binding a woman, but he didn’t have a choice. “In the past year, as the world has gone to hell, hasn’t anybody taught you to fight?” he asked.
She kicked out, her bound hands striking for his bulletproof vest.
He lifted her onto his lap, wrapped an arm over hers and around her waist, manacling her legs with one of his. “Relax. I’m not going to hurt you, but you can’t know where we’re going.”
“Right.” She shoved back an elbow, her warm little body struggling hard.
Desire flushed through him, pounding instantly into his cock. God, she was a handful.
She paused. “Ah—”
“You’re safe. Just stop wiggling.” His voice was hoarse. Jesus. When was the last time he’d gotten laid? He actually couldn’t remember. She was a tight little handful of energy and womanly curves, and his body reacted instantly. The more she gyrated against him, trying to fight, the more blood rushed south of his brain. He had to get her under control before he began panting like a teenager.
“No.” Her voice rose, and she tried to flail around again. “You can’t manhandle me like this.”
If she had any clue how he’d like to handle her, she’d be screaming. He took several deep breaths and forced desire into the abyss, where it belonged. He wanted her hooded, not afraid. “If you were mine, you’d know how to fight.” Where that thought came from, he’d never know.
She squirmed on his lap, fully contained. “Good thing I’m not yours, now isn’t it?”
He exhaled and held her tighter until she gave up the fight and submitted against him. The light whimper of frustration echoing behind the hood sounded almost like a sigh of pleasure. When she softened, he hardened. Again.
Then he released his hold. “That’s where you’re wrong, Lynn Harmony. The second you crossed into my territory, the very moment you asked for my help, that’s exactly what you became.”
“What?” she asked, sounding breathless now.
“Mine.”
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author REBECCA ZANETTI has worked as an art curator, Senate aide, lawyer, college professor, and a hearing examiner—only to culminate it all in stories about alpha males and the women who claim them. She writes contemporary romances, dark paranormal romances, and romantic suspense novels.
Growing up amid the glorious backdrops and winter wonderlands of the Pacific Northwest has given Rebecca fantastic scenery and adventures to weave into her stories. She resides in the wild north with her husband, children, and extended family who inspire her every day—or at the very least give her plenty of characters to write about.
Please visit Rebecca at: www.rebeccazanetti.com/
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Copyright © 2015 Rebecca Zanetti
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First electronic edition: November 2015
ISBN: 978-1-6018-3513-0
First print edition: November 2015
ISBN-13: 978-1-60183-514-7
ISBN-10: 1-60183-514-0