He cleared his throat. “Yes, but I fight with my body and don’t play mind games.”
She paused and glanced at his implacable face. In times of war, why would anyone ignore an advantage? “Why?”
“So I’m not like him. Ever.” Vulnerability flashed for a second in Zane’s emerald eyes before being veiled.
“Suri?”
“Yes.” Zane’s monotone said more than if he’d shouted the words.
The need to offer comfort gentled her movements. If only he’d share his pain and let her heal him. He seemed so alone that pangs attacked her heart, but she continued working, instinctively knowing he wouldn’t appreciate her seeing his hurts.
A twist of her wrist captured the second projectile. Only a twitch of his jaw showed his pain. Man, he was tough.
After removing the bloody bullet, she covered the wounds with gauze, pressing lightly against his chest. His hard-as-steel chest.
“Thank you,” he said softly.
The intimacy of the moment wound around them, filling her head. She set down the pliers and began to move back. A broad hand wrapping around her hip stopped her.
She stilled, energy rushing down her torso.
They were alone and in real time. No dreams, no fantasies, just reality.
Zane stood, brushing warmth against her front. So much taller and bigger than she was. He slid his free hand along her jaw to the nape of her neck, tilting her head up. Keeping her in place.
She wanted to say something, but words fled. Instead, she lost herself in his green gaze, finally dropping her concentration to his full lips. Intrigue, curiosity, and need kept her still.
Just one. Just one kiss.
Right now, in person, just to feel if any of her dreams could become real.
He lowered his head slowly, adding anticipation to the moment. As if waiting two decades wasn’t long enough. “Belle?” he asked, his breath brushing her lips.
“Yes.” She stepped into him, stretching up to meet his mouth, her hand flattening against his bare abs.
The second their lips met, something clicked into place deep inside her.
He made a sound low in his throat—a sound of welcome. Then he immediately took control. Firm lips curved over hers, taking and forcing her to feel. Too much. Definitely too much.
But it was too late to turn back.
As he hauled her closer, her breasts flattened against his chest. Sparks flew from her nipples to her sex. His grip tightened along with every nerve inside her body. Sensation after sensation bombarded her as his tongue tangled with hers, pushing deep, retreating, and demanding. Desperation and loneliness colored his touch, along with hunger.
The hunger penetrated her skin, clawing deep and taking hold.
He took his time, exploring her, building a firestorm inside her. A desperate craving. Finally, he slowed and sucked on her bottom lip. The pull careened right down her center to her core.
Her knees buckled.
The hand at her hip gripped harder and kept her upright. So much strength. Her mind spinning, her body aching, she reached for his belt.
He stilled and lifted his head. “You sure, Belle?”
She blinked. Shook her head to regain reality. Her knuckles brushed very ripped abs. Dangerously ripped. A small whimper rose from her chest.
His nostrils flared, and the growl that rumbled up was all vampire.
Her panties dampened even further. Was she sure? Her body bellowed ahell yes, while her mind slowly cleared. “You’ve kidnapped me.” She released the leather.
