Hidden Embers

by Tessa Adams

  She struggled against him, trying to dislodge the heavy weight of his chest upon her back, and Quinn growled. But he moved, reluctantly.

  She sucked in a few good breaths then nearly whimpered in disappointment when he pulled out of her. Don’t go, she wanted to tell him. Don’t leave me. The feeling swept through her so completely that she nearly said the words out loud, nearly begged him to stay next to her, to keep making love to her even though she was almost half dead with exhaustion. That desire, that compulsion to keep him close scared her as nothing else could have. It was perilously close to need, and she had sworn, a long time ago, that she would never need anyone.

  She turned, watching as Quinn disposed of the condom and cleaned himself up before tucking himself back into his jeans. The fact that he was fully clothed made her suddenly aware of the fact that she was naked except for the jeans and panties that were pooled around her knees.

  She yanked them back into place as quickly as she could, achingly aware of Quinn watching as she did so.

  What the hell had gotten into her? Jasmine wondered frantically. Since when did she mix work and pleasure like this? Since never. She’d always made sure to keep the two separated by a wide margin. Yet here she was in the middle of the lab for God’s sake, recovering from yet another marathon sex session with Quinn.

  Maybe that was it. Maybe her IQ dropped a little more every time Quinn made love to her. God knew, the pleasure was so intense she wouldn’t be surprised to find out it melted a few brain cells along with everything else.

  The whole thing was ridiculous, especially her response, but the scary part was that she had no doubt if and when he wanted her again, she would fall into bed with him. Or onto the floor. Or up against the closet wall. Wherever, whenever. She’d known him a day and already he had an incredible amount of control over her body—and her mind.

  It wasn’t a pleasant realization. Glancing over at Quinn, she couldn’t help wondering what he was thinking, what he was feeling. His face was completely impassive as he waited for her to finish putting herself to rights. Only his eyes were alive, and they glowed so brightly that she wondered if she was looking at the man—or the dragon.

  The fact that she was even wondering about it should have freaked her out, but it didn’t. Just how far gone was she that it didn’t even matter if she’d made love to a man or his beast? She had a feeling she would take Quinn—and the pleasure he gave her—any way that she could get him.

  Which was a problem, no doubt about it.

  “Did I hurt you?” he asked, and his voice was back to normal.

  “No. Of course not.”

  “Are you sure? I was pretty rough. I’m sorry about that.”

  “Don’t be. It’s not like I was complaining.” She turned, gave him a flippant smile that she was far from feeling and noticed that his eyes were no longer glowing with that strange electricity.

  Well, that answered that question once and for all—as if she’d had any doubt. She’d just had sex with Quinn’s dragon. Oh, he might have been in human form, but she was positive the dragon had been in control. Too bad she didn’t have a clue how she felt about that.

  But it explained a lot, including why Quinn was looking at her with such concern. She wondered if he even remembered what they had done together, if he remembered how he had taken her, his body pinning her down while his teeth sank into her flesh to hold her in place.

  She could still feel the ache from his bite, but it was a sweet pain—unlike so many of the other aches that were currently ravaging her body. Nothing like two days of hot sex to get her injuries complaining.

  “I should probably get you to Phoebe,” he muttered, running an agitated hand over his hair. “Otherwise, she’ll be back here in a little while, demanding to know what’s taking you so long.”

  “Somehow, I can’t see you explaining to her just what it is you’ve been up to.”

  “Yeah, well, I can’t see you piping up about what got into you, either.”

  They grinned at each other, the terrible innuendos bridging the awkward distance that had grown between them as they’d pulled themselves together. Quinn held out a hand to her, and Jasmine shifted to take it, wincing when her sore hip protested the sudden movement.

  “What’s wrong?” Quinn demanded, his eyes searching her from top to bottom as if he could see straight through her clothes and skin to the muscles and bones beneath. Which, now that she thought about it, he might actually be able to do. He was a healer after all—and how cool would that be? The doctor in her thrilled at the idea.

  “Nothing. My hip just isn’t sure it can take all this strain we’ve been putting on it. It’ll be fine after a hot shower.” Or so she hoped.

  His eyes darkened. “I hurt you.”

  “No. A bomb in Sierra Leone hurt me. You made me feel terrific, and helped me exercise some muscles that haven’t gotten much of a workout lately.”

  If possible, his look turned even more grim. “A bomb? That’s what caused all those injuries?”

  “Yeah,” she shrugged as if the moment the bomb went off—and those seconds after it—hadn’t been the most terrifying of her life. “I was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  “That seems to happen to you a lot.”

  “Now, see, that’s where we’ll have to agree to disagree.” She reached up and carelessly patted his cheek in an effort to keep things light and easy. “Because I happen to think that last night I was in exactly the right place at exactly the right time.”

  It didn’t work. There was absolutely nothing light or easy about Quinn’s expression. “Yeah, which is why you snuck out in the middle of the night.”

  Jasmine felt a surge of guilt, which made her only more determined not to get drawn into an argument. “Are you back to that?” she asked with a roll of her eyes. “I told you, it was nothing personal. I needed to get on the road.”

  “Why is it so hard for you to be honest with me?” he demanded, reaching out to grab her elbow.

  She shrugged him off. “Why are you so determined to make this into a big deal? We like having sex together, cool. But that doesn’t mean I owe you an explanation for everything I do.”

  “Yeah, because that’s what I’m demanding. An accounting of every decision you make.” He thrust a hand through his hair, and she got the impression that if he was alone he would have roared in frustration. “You walked out on me.”

  “I walked out on a guy I met in a bar in Fort Stockton, Texas! We had a great time, but since I live in Atlanta and was on my way to New Mexico, it wasn’t like I figured we were in it for the long term. You need to get over it.”

  “And you need to stop lying to yourself,” he growled.

  “Don’t flatter yourself,” she said, exasperated. “Just because you don’t like what I have to say doesn’t mean I’m lying to myself or to you.” She said the last with a toss of her head and a deliberately challenging look in her eyes. If he thought she was going to back down just because he beat his chest and grumbled a little, he was in for a hell of a disappointment. The fact that a little voice in the back of her head whispered that he might be right only made her more determined to stand her ground.

  Her defiance obviously got to him, and for a second Quinn looked ready to continue the argument, but he must have thought better of it because he suddenly snapped his teeth together so sharply that she was afraid he might break a molar—or three.

  Instead, he cupped her elbow with his hand and started propelling her slowly toward the door. “Come on. You must be exhausted after everything you’ve done today. Let me get you to Phoebe and Dylan’s house, so you can rest.”

  His solicitous behavior drained the fight right out of her, and as she settled down, Jasmine realized that he was right. She should be a walking zombie by now. Instead, she felt strangely exhilarated, like jolt after jolt of electricity was working its way through her body. She didn’t know if it was from the sex or the fighting, but something about being around Quin
n lit her up in a way nothing had in a very long time.

  As her second—or maybe it was her third—wind swept through her, she glanced back at the computer Quinn had shut off so abruptly a little while before and wondered if she could do some more work before calling it a night. She really did want to get up to speed on each of the cases—particularly the most recent ones—as soon as possible. She wouldn’t be able to start taking the virus apart until she’d looked at it from all sides.

  Quinn misunderstood her reluctance, and he dropped her arm abruptly. “How badly did I hurt you?”

  Annoyance brushed through her again, and she wondered what it was about Quinn that made her feel so many conflicting emotions at the same time. “I already told you, I’m fine.”

  “You’re having trouble walking. That’s not fine.”

  Before she could say anything else, he swept her up into his arms and started for the door.

  “Hey, what are you doing? Put me down!” she demanded, shoving against his chest. He didn’t even bother to glance down, and the only clue that he’d even heard—or felt—her protests was the way his arms tightened around her.

  “Quinn, I’m serious. I want to walk.”

  He still didn’t answer, his long legs beating a path to the door, and her annoyance escalated into anger. Who the hell did he think he was? She wasn’t some simpering little girl who needed to be carted around like a piece of luggage, and she sure as hell didn’t appreciate him ignoring her.

  She shoved against him again, much harder this time. It still didn’t faze him—damn stubborn dragon—and that shot her anger to the boiling point. She began to struggle against him in earnest. “Damn it! Let me go!”

  “You’re just going to make it worse,” he said through gritted teeth. “Let me get you to Phoebe’s, and then I’ll examine you.”

  “I don’t need you to examine me.”

  “Jasmine, be reasonable. You’re obviously hurt and—”

  “I am not hurt.”

  He ignored her, shifting so that he could push against the lab’s outer door with his shoulder. “If I’m the cause of it, I need to make sure you’re okay. I can heal you—”

  “Yeah, and wipe yourself out like you did earlier? No, thank you. You’re the one who needs to rest.”

  “What I need to do is take care of you.”

  “Actually, what you need to do is listen to me. And put me down.”

  He stopped abruptly, sliding her slowly down his body until her feet hit the ground. Thinking he was finally listening, her anger abated, but it came roaring back when she realized they were standing outside her car. He must have used that crazy speed of his to carry her through the entire lab despite her protests. He had released her only because they’d gotten to their destination. Scratch that—they’d gotten to his destination, which was the passenger side of her car.

  The big jerk.

  “Give me your keys.” He held out his hand as if he actually expected her to turn them over. If so, he had a long wait coming.

  Shoving away from him, she headed around to the driver’s side, pulling her keys out of her back pocket. “You don’t need my keys.” She slid the key into the lock and opened the door.

  Quinn was around the car in a flash, his eyes spitting fire. “I’ll drive you home, Jasmine.”

  “Good luck with that. Atlanta’s about twenty-two hours in that direction.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  She did, and it would be a cold day in hell before she let him drive her like some helpless little girl who couldn’t take care of herself. She’d lived that life once, in her parents’ house, and she never would again. She wasn’t that kind of woman.

  “I can get myself to Phoebe’s,” she said, as she slid into the driver’s seat. “I have a GPS and directions. Go home and get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “I told you, I’ll take you.” His eyes glittered with menace, the bright green of the dragon more intimidating in that moment than she liked to admit. All the more reason to stand her ground.

  “And I told you, I don’t need a babysitter. But thanks for the sex. It was fun.” She yanked the car door shut, slamming the lock down before she slid the key into the ignition. Quinn looked like he was going to explode, and she didn’t want to take any chances. She wasn’t flame-proof, after all.

  “Jazz!” His hands came down on the hood of her car, hard, and she jumped a little at the impact. Which only made her angrier. She didn’t appreciate scare tactics from men.

  She programmed Phoebe’s address into her GPS, started the car and began pulling forward. Quinn tried to block her way with his massive body, and she rolled her eyes—hadn’t she just done this? Nice of him to remind her that all men were the same, even those who were dragons underneath.

  Completely pissed off, she handled him the same way she’d handled the other guys—by hitting the gas and waiting for him to jump out of the way. Only, unlike the two assholes in Fort Stockton, she really didn’t want to hurt Quinn. At the last second, when he didn’t move, she swerved to miss him. Then drove to the edge of the parking lot and hung a left without so much as a backward glance.

  As she sped away from the lab, she couldn’t resist rolling her window down and flipping him off. Bastard. If he really thought he was going to tell her what to do, he was in for a shock. Dragon or no dragon, Jasmine Kane bowed to no man. Better Quinn learn that now.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Quinn watched in shock as Jasmine flipped him the bird right before she turned the corner and drove out of sight. What the hell set her off? he wondered, still too startled to be angry. He’d been trying to help. She was obviously tired, obviously injured, and he’d wanted to take care of her. To make things easy on her. What was so bad about that? In his world that was what a good mate did. Took care of his female when she was too weak or too tired to take care of herself.

  Besides, he’d spent the last year standing by helplessly while people he cared about died, one after the other. It had felt good to be able to do something for Jasmine, even if it was a little thing like carrying her to her car when it obviously hurt her to walk. There’d been no reason for her to go off the deep end like that, let alone try to run him over. For the first time, he had a little sympathy for the guys who’d hassled her in Fort Stockton. Jasmine was a lot tougher—a lot harder—than she looked. It made her pretty much the exact opposite of the kind of mate he’d ever thought of ending up with.

  Yet, he wasn’t ready to walk away from her. Even though he knew he probably should for a lot of reasons, including the fact that the last thing he needed in his life right now was a woman—a human woman—who thought running him over was an acceptable way to settle their differences. Again, was it the mating bond that made him feel this way about her, or was it Jasmine herself? Certainly he liked those glimpses of her he got when she was relaxed or comfortable enough to lower her guard.

  But was that enough, he wondered, to build a lifetime on? He didn’t know. Normally, his people only became mates after both had chosen to do so. This whole mate at first meeting thing was the stuff of legends, but he’d never met anyone it had actually happened to.

  Wasn’t that just typical? His whole life he’d been doing things just a little differently from everyone else. It figured that he would be odd man out when it came to this, too.

  Still, this isn’t what he’d wanted—a mate who was volatile and prickly and so independent that she would rather suffer than let him help her. His entire life was spent fighting—from the battles he waged to heal badly injured clan members to the war against the Wyvernmoons. The last thing he wanted was a personal life as volatile as his professional one, no matter how fleeting the relationship was.

  And yet he couldn’t just leave Jazz out there alone, he thought, and he started to undress. He hadn’t been joking when he’d told her that Dylan had marked her as being under the protection of the Dragonstar clan. The mark gave her a certain amount of protection—more, cer
tainly, than she would have without it—but it also made her a target for their enemies. Letting her wander around a town she didn’t know, especially with a traitor on the loose and the Wyvernmoons doing everything they could to hurt the clan, was asking for trouble.

  When he was naked, his clothes safely stowed away in the pouch around his neck, he started to shift. It took a little longer than normal—he’d shifted too many times in the last twenty-four hours for it to be quick and easy. He ignored the additional pain, and as soon as he was able he launched himself straight into the air and took off after Jasmine. The fact that he knew where she was going, and that she had to obey traffic laws, gave him the advantage, and within a couple of minutes he’d caught up to her.

  Part of him wanted to land right on the top of her damn car, and say to hell with the whole invisibility thing while he was at it, but four centuries of caution made such behavior anathema.

  Still, it was surprisingly tempting. The way she’d sped away from him aroused his predatory instincts. While he prided himself on his ability to reason his way through even his most animalistic instincts, something about this whole situation was fucking with his head in a big way.

  Unable to stop himself, he swooped down next to the driver’s window and dropped the spell he used to make himself invisible—just for a moment. Partly, he wanted to let her know she wasn’t alone, and partly he just wanted to mess with her the way she was messing with him. He wanted to show her that it would take a lot more than trying to hit him with a car to scare him off.

  She did a double take, hitting her brakes hard, and he couldn’t deny the surge of satisfaction he felt. Was it juvenile? Absolutely. Mean-spirited? Probably. But it was also amusing as hell, especially when she started mouthing curses at him like a drunken sailor. He couldn’t hear what she was saying, but he read lips well enough to know that Jasmine had a talent for stringing words together in the most uncomplimentary manner possible.