Her name rasped out of him, while the sharp points of his fangs grazed her lips.
It should have frightened her, the awareness of how vulnerable she was to this man . . . to this lethal Breed male.
Instead, all she felt was desire.
Marrow-deep, consuming desire.
His hands moved down her body, leaving hot trails wherever he touched her. His grasp on her was possessive, demanding. Her body answered with total surrender.
God help her, if he flung her down beneath him on one of the narrow beds she would’ve been powerless to stop him. Worse, she couldn’t think of anything she wanted more.
Their breath mingled, hot and rapid as their kiss deepened.
Her heart hammered so loudly in her breast, it sounded like a drum in her ears.
Thump, thump, thump.
Oh, shit. It wasn’t only her heartbeat she heard.
“Willow, are you in there?” Madame Gauthier’s voice filtered in from the other side of the closed door.
Razor tore away from Willow’s mouth on hissed oath. He looked more annoyed than contrite, with his irises blazing and his fangs gleaming like diamond daggers behind his wet, parted lips.
The doorknob jiggled but didn’t give. “Did someone lock this door?”
Willow shot a worried glance up at Razor. “You?” she whispered.
“Barely in time,” he confirmed grimly.
“Is everything okay in there, Willow?” Madame Gauthier asked.
“Yes. Everything’s fine. We’ll, ah . . . we’ll be down in just a minute.”
She winced, mortified to hear the guilt in her voice. There was nothing to do about it. Her only saving grace was the fact that Razor had managed to mentally bar the woman from entering the room.
“The tea should be ready any minute now,” Madame Gauthier said after an excruciating hesitation. As pleasant as she was when they met, she was still St. Anne’s director and her disapproval over this indiscretion was obvious in her voice. “I’ll be waiting for you downstairs.”
Willow bit her lip. “Thank you, Madame Gauthier.”
Her footsteps retreated. Willow let out her breath on a giggle behind her hand. “That was a close call.”
Razor glowered. “I’m glad you’re amused.”
She was more than amused, but unfortunately those other feelings he’d stirred in her would have to wait for another time. “Your fangs are showing.”
His eyes flashed hot. “That’s not all that’s showing.” He pulled her against him, where the hard length of his erection jabbed into her abdomen. She moaned at the feel of all his hard strength and her unbearable longing to have him inside her. He chuckled under his breath. “Not so amused now, are you?”
She sent him a narrow look. “You’re cruel.”
He arched a brow. “Never said I wasn’t.”
Willow stepped away from him, her thoughts troubled. “I’m not ready to leave this room yet, Razor. I feel like I’m missing something crucial. I feel like the reason Laurel sent me here is in this room somewhere. What am I not seeing?”
“Whatever her reasons, she obviously didn’t want anyone else to know she was directing you here. Why else would she obscure the clue like a hidden treasure in that book?”
“Hidden treasure . . .” Willow turned the phrase over in her mind. “Oh, my God.”
Was that it? Could that be what Laurel was trying to tell her to look for at St. Anne’s?
