Page 18 of Villainous Intent

Cute.

Annie darted outside, her heels clicking against the pavement. The coastal fog had rolled in thick and the mist curled around her calves, clinging to the skin exposed by the hem of her dress. I fell into step beside her.

The tempo of her heels accelerated.

The staccato sound triggered every predatory instinct I possessed. The urge to chase. To catch. To pin her down until she stopped fighting and started begging.

“I’ll walk you to your car.”

Annie stopped and whirled around. “You absolutely will not.”

“It’s late.” I moved toward her, collapsing the distance between us until she had to crane her neck just to maintain eye contact. “And the parking garage is three blocks away. A lot can happen in the dark, Annie.”

“Try it and I’ll tase you.”

“Promise?” I stepped closer and she took a stumbling step backward. I followed the retreat, crowding her until her back hit the rough brick wall of the restaurant. I planted a hand next to her head, trapping her.

“I have a meeting to get to,” she said. Her voice trembled slightly despite her best efforts to sound authoritative. “Didn’t you say you did too?”

“My meeting can wait.” I lowered my head, burying my nose near the frantic pulse jumping at her neck, inhaling the scent of her. “My priorities have shifted.”

The mist swirled thicker around us, creating a curtain that isolated us from the rest of the world. The few people passing by on the sidewalk were nothing but blurred shadows, irrelevant to the hunt. If I decided to hike up her dress and take her right here, no one would stop me.

“Is the Scottish accent real?”

The question threw me off guard. Most people facing me in the dark dissolved into weeping messes or paralyzed prey. Annie Bishop was analyzing my vocal patterns. It pleased me that she was keeping her head.

“Yes.” I coated the word with the burr I usually kept locked away.

She tilted her head, the movement exposing an inch more of her throat. “Why do you lose it? For Cipher, I mean.”

“It helps me stay hidden,” I replied. “Usually.”

Her eyes dropped to my mouth and her cheeks flushed. “It was your smile that did you in.”

“Many men have similar mouths, Annie.”

She arched her brow. “Those other men didn’t kiss me earlier today.”

“I’m pleased you’re still thinking about it,” I murmured, tracking the way her lips parted. “Because I haven’t been able to think of much else. I can still taste you.”

Her eyes widened and her flush spread to her chest.

“Nothing happened,” she said, the lie was trembling on the tip of her tongue. “You kissed me. I defended myself.”

I brushed my knuckles along the curve of her jaw as I captured a strand of her hair. I wrapped it slowly around my index finger, binding her to me.

“That wasn’t self-defense.”

“What would you call it?” she challenged.

I curled my finger, pulling the lock of hair. She gave a small gasp as the tension forced her head back to offer up the vulnerable expanse of her throat to me.

“Foreplay.”

Her phone buzzed and she jumped, startled. She cursed quietly looking down at the screen.

“I need to go,” she said.