Oh no, he didn’t. She kicked him again in the leg—right where she’d shot him earlier.
He didn’t turn quickly as she expected. Instead, he pivoted slowly to face her. She knew instantly she’dmade a mistake.
He curled one impossibly strong hand around the nape of her neck and one beneath her knee, pulling her butt forward and tipping her back. She gasped, but he ignored the sound and pressed her down, partially leaning over her but not putting any pressure against her wounded arm.
His jaw looked cut from granite. “I think maybe it’s time you learned I’m not the scared little kid who won’t take what he wants.” His heated palm cradled her neck as his thumb caressed the sideof her jawline.
She couldn’t move and she couldn’t think. Flames licked at her skin, and she forgot all about the soldiers surrounding them as his mouth took hers. Her eyelids fluttered closed, and sparks flashed, hot and bright, as desire lit her nipples on fire and landed between her legs in a firestorm. She had never felt like this—so sensitive and so needy. Paxton Phoenix was the only reality in the entire world.
A bullet impacted the back of the truck, but even then, Paxton didn’t stop kissing her. His tongue delved deep, tasting of cinnamon somehow, and his lips moved fierce and firm on hers. She made a soft sound, and she could admit later that it was more of a surrenderthan a protest.
With his hand still at her nape, he pulled her back into a seated position, and then slowly released her and took a step away. He studied her for one long moment. “Tell Liam he’s fixing this truck since he just put a bullet hole in it.” With that, Paxton turned and strode to the doorway of the house and disappeared inside, not looking back once.
Hope pressed her fingers to her trembling lips. Even at her age, she’d learned that single moments, tiny slices in time, could change everything.
Her world would never be the same.
Chapter Eight
Since it was well after midnight, all of the lights were off in Hope’s house as her protective escort of six left her at her door. Her sprawling ranch house sat in the middle of demon territory, several houses down from her parents’ home in a nice cul-de-sac in front of the quiet lake. She opened the door and walked inside the comfortable home she was temporarily sharing with Libby.
Their Christmas tree twinkled in the corner, and several presents for Hope’s baby brother were already wrapped and wrinkled under the tree after he’d done his best to shake themthe other day.
As usual, there were blankets, pillows, books, notes, pens, and more of Libby’s belongings strewn around the living room. Hope was too tired to clean up after her tonight.
Zane Kyllwood clicked on the lamp from his seat on the sofa near the fireplace. The jumble around him was uncharacteristic, and Hope knew her father must have had to struggle to refrain from organizing the chaos.
Hope couldn’t help a small grin, even though her head was still aching. “Libby’skind of messy.”
“I’m well aware,” Zane said. “She always has been. How are you?”
She couldn’t read his mood, which worried her. “I’m okay. My head still hurts, but the drugs are wearing off, so it should be all right soon. Any word from Emma on the ingredients of whatever theyshot into me?”
“Not yet.” Zane appeared relaxed, but it was a deceptive pose Hope knew well. Her father could leap into action in a millisecond. “How did it go with Pax?”
She didn’t have a read on that situation, either. “I’m sure you already know.” Besides the snipers, there had been cameras and microphones aimed herway, no doubt.
“I do, but you know him better than anybody else. What’s going on?”
She tilted her head. “I’m still trying to figure out why you let him go.” In her heart, she somehow still trusted Paxton even though she knew that was probably insane, but as the king of the demon nation, her father wasn’t one to take risks. “Doyou trust him?”
“Absolutely not,” Zane said. “Neither should you.”
“So you’re running a con on him. He’s got information you need, and you didn’t think you could torture it out of him?” She tilted her head. “That’s interesting.”
Zane looked briefly away and then back at her. “There’s always been a steel core in Paxton Phoenix, so torturing him would take a lot of time. Anybody can be broken, Hope. You know that.” He shifted his weight. “But yeah, I didn’t want to be the one to do it. Pax would do anything for you. Well, except tellyou the truth.”
She shook her head. “Things have gotten so crazy.”
“They usually do,” Zane said soberly. “I want you to stay away from Paxton, because things are about to become very difficult for him, and I don’t want you caught up in it.”
It figured her father had a plan. There was no way he’d just let Paxton loose. “What’s going on with him? I can’t put the pieces together.” She was thought of as a strategic genius, and yet the puzzle ofPax eluded her.
Zane stood and stalked like a lazy panther around the sofa, then pressed a kiss to the top of her head while pulling a knife from his back pocket to place in her hand. A new Kurjan-designed knife that could split in three and slice off a head. “Keep this with you on missions.”
She’d wanted one of those. “Thanks.” The metal chilled her palm.
“Paxton is no longer your problem, honey. You need to go back to your main mission with your squad...and put some ice on that arm.” Without waiting for an answer, he strode out the door. “Lock this behind me,”he called out.
