“Fire?” Something in his dark stare told her this went past polite interest, like he was truly concerned. And maybe that’s why she told him about the car crash.
“I couldn’t save them,” she whispered. “My parents were trapped…the fire….”
“I’m sorry.”
She swallowed the tightness in her throat and nodded, rubbing the old scar on her chest.
He reached out and gently stroked her face. Startled, her gaze flew to his. He looked like someone had taken a sledgehammer to his head. His jaw rigid, his hands disappeared behind his back. He remained silent, but she caught the brief flicker in his haunted gaze, like he understood tragedy. She couldn’t be sure because he pivoted as the doors opened.
Still, something had moved in his shadowy gaze and touched a deep visceral part of her. Almost like a connection was made between them in that single moment.
Eve stepped out of the elevator and discarded her fanciful imagination. Aconnectionwith this self-contained fortress? Right. The only connection she had was one of arousal that left her damp and edgy. And dammit, she’d had it with her shoes.
Resting her hand on the wall, Eve pulled off her stiletto. A moan of relief escaped her, one she cut off when she found him watching her. “It’s been a long andtiringday. So what did you want to talk about?”
She slipped off the other shoe, hooked her finger through both straps, and felt like a midget next to him. Her head must barely touch his shoulders because she certainly couldn’t see over them.
He held out an iPhone. As if on cue it rang.Like a Virginbelted out loud in the quiet night. Eve dove for her cell, heat rushing to her face. How the heck did he get her phone?
“Sorry,” she mumbled in embarrassment and pushed open the lobby door into the sweltering night. He followed her. Within seconds, she felt like a wilting rag while he, even in leathers, appeared cool, gorgeous. And untouchable.
Reynner exuded that inaccessible air like a thick cloud…but clouds can dissipate,she thought with a little smile and answered her call.
***
Reynner shoved his hands into his pants pockets, inhaling sharply to clear the smell of her from his lungs, and failed.
Urias, this wasn’t turning out as he’d planned. Locked in the elevator with her, her subtle peach fragrance combined with the scent of her arousal taunted him. The latter he’d caused by sucking on her finger. He was only supposed to taste her blood, not behave like a bloody leech. Everything about her drew him in. She was too compelling, even with those strange blue-painted toenails. It’d taken every bit of willpower he possessed not to haul her to him and devour her mouth instead.
She sent him a quick look as she spoke on her cell. Her gaze, like an erotic caress, tightened his skin, and his cock hardened uncomfortably against his zipper.
How the hell could one tiny human unravel his mind—his defenses—so easily?
The taste of her blood hummed through him like a symphony. Any more, and he’d have the whole bloody orchestra playing in him. Yes, she had magic in her. He doubted she was even aware of it. His heart quickened at the enormity of what this meant for his realm.
Would she agree to aid him in his search for the artifact?
It mattered little. He needed her help, and he would get it.
Reynner brought his attention back to his job and realized to whom she was speaking. The artist. His eyes narrowing, he strolled closer.
“It’s been a long day, I’m sorry about tonight, David…yes, Wednesday… Bye.” She ended her call. “Sorry about that. And thank you for my cell. I didn’t realize I’d lost it—oh, that means I have yours.” She dug through her purse, found his iPhone, and handed it to him.
He slipped the cell into his pocket. “That painting of you?”
“What about it?” A defensive note entered her voice.
“You’re dating the artist?” It surprised him he hadn’t snarled the question, considering his territorial thoughts.
“What?” She blinked those darkly lashed forest green eyes at him. “No. Why?”
At her answer, perverse pleasure surged through him. The artist wanted her. It all but screamed from each brush stroke. Too bad for the human, Eve was going to be under his protection while they searched for the artifact. But it didn’t stop him from wanting to rip off the male’s head for daring to imagine her so—like she’d been made love to.
“I’ll give you a ride to your home. We can talk on the way.”
She hesitated, probably picking up on his anger. “It’s not necessary. We can talk here.”
Hell, he needed to lighten up before she bailed. Deliberately he glanced at her feet. “It’ll take a while, and you can save your friends a trip. Or you could put on those torture devices, go back inside, and tell them to wait.”
