Devin

by Dana Archer

  The image of his vacant feline eyes came back to her. They hadn’t even focused on her face.

  He hadn’t seen her. Didn’t know he’d hurt her.

  Great. Her kidnapper was crazy. Her luck, he’d turn on her if she looked at him wrong.

  Before she could take the thought any further, he flicked the tip of his tongue to her neck. She swallowed a moan. He did it again. She clenched her hand until her nails dug into her palm. The sting stopped the sound from escaping, but not the slight shudder that ran through her body. He murmured something, mouth pressed to her neck so the words were muffled, but she knew they were ones of approval. He couldn’t fake that tone.

  He slid his hand across her stomach and stilled with his fingers splayed over her belly, the spot that should hurt, yet didn’t.

  “You are safe with me. The cub will be too. I will protect her. Now tell me where she is.”

  “What cub? I don’t know what you’re talking about. I—”

  He nipped her earlobe. “Do not lie to me. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

  She ignored the desire building within her and focused on his question. No way was she telling him anything about her adoptive sister. He could say he’d protect her all he wanted. The government had told her the same lies. All they saw were dollar signs when they looked at Molly.

  She moved her bottom away from the stranger’s body. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. If you’re missing a cat, maybe you should check the lost and found section of the newspaper.”

  Growls, louder than before, rumbled his chest. He leaned over her so his mouth pressed to her ear. “No lies. No games. I don’t have time for either. The cub is the child I’m looking for. Tell me where she is.”

  “I don’t—”

  “I saw you with her, Lena. Do not lie to me again. Tell me how to find her. She’s special and can’t fall into the wrong hands.”

  “Molly is special, Miss Burnett. I personally guarantee she will never fall into the wrong hands again. That includes the scientists who are searching for her and other shifters. It’s why I’ve placed her with your father. Who better to guard her than a former agent?” Colonel Malory’s words from six months ago repeated in Lena’s head.

  She’d believed him, putting her faith in him. That had changed when he’d shown up at her house with a bunch of shifters who’d come for Molly.

  “Plans change, Miss Burnett, and the offer I’ve received from the Shifter Council is one I’d be foolish to pass on.” Colonel Malory had accepted a briefcase of money from the largest lion shifter, then walked out, leaving Lena and her family to face their fate.

  A wave of grief choked her. Her mother, her stepdad—dead. Murdered. All because they’d trusted a man who’d sworn to protect Molly.

  No! She couldn’t let those memories consume her. Their deaths would not be for nothing.

  The man holding her brushed his nose against the spot below her ear, yanking her out of her sorrow, and tightened his hold on her body. “If there’s any male in this world you should trust, it’s me. I would never betray you.”

  Wouldn’t that be a dream come true? Too bad she’d stopped believing in fairy tales, unicorns, and happily ever afters a long time ago.

  Lena forced a bored sigh. “I really don’t like repeating myself, but since you’re basically an animal, I’ll take your low IQ into account this one time.” She paused, ignoring the tensing of muscles pressed along her back. “Not on your life.”

  He surprised her by chuckling, the deep rumble flipping a switch inside her. She arched into him. Whether she liked it or not, she desired him.

  With the utmost care, he gathered the tousled strands of her hair so they fanned out over her shoulder. “I’m sorry, little human. I’ve neglected to take your failings into account.”

  She waited for him to tell her about her faults. He never did. Minutes passed while he sifted his fingers through her hair, finger-combing it. A slight tug accompanied his attentions as he untangled the mass. Once smooth, he twirled a lock and rubbed the strands together before repeating the process. By the fourth time, she caved.

  “Exactly what flaws are those?”

  No response. He continued to play with her hair, not even pausing in the twisting of her tresses to indicate he’d heard her. The deliberate snubbing frayed her last nerve.

  She opened her mouth to repeat herself. The words got stuck there, her focus on the hand tracing the length of her arm. Wide-eyed, she watched talons extend from the fingertips. He dragged them over her skin, not bleeding her, but the threat was clear. The sight triggered the memory of watching blood drip off those claw-tipped fingers. Her blood.

  The lust abated, fear replacing it. He could kill her as easily as he aroused her. Her pulse sped. She whimpered. There was no stopping the frightened sound or the trembling in her limbs.

  “Shifters enjoy the scent of fear on humans, Lena.”

  She really wished he’d stop saying her name. His European accent sounded sinfully sexy and sophisticated. Men she hated shouldn’t make her toes curl.

  He twined their fingers and lifted their joined hands—his clawed, hers with short, blunt nails—until they were inches from her face.

  “You are tiny, Lena. Fragile.” He loosely gripped her wrist. “If I squeeze just a little, your bones will break.”

  She swallowed hard, gaze locked on to her fingers she could’ve sworn had already been broken. “Go ahead and hurt me. I’m not telling you anything.”

  “Am I hurting you?”

  He might be treating her nicely now. That didn’t mean he’d continue doing so. She knew what he was capable of and how easily he killed. Seeing his claws reminded her of that. She pressed her lips tightly together and stayed quiet.

  “Are you giving me the silent treatment because I didn’t tell you what your flaws are?” He lowered their linked hands. “Sorry, little female. I assumed you wouldn’t appreciate hearing about my low opinion of your species. You see, in my experience, most humans are untrustworthy, lying individualists who wouldn’t understand loyalty if it bit them in the ass.”

  Before she could respond, he pressed his mouth to her neck, not a kiss exactly, but the warmth of his breath made it feel as intimate as one. She stilled and waited for him to make the next move. Without the visual reminder of the threat he posed, her other senses kicked in and overrode the fear that had left her body strung tight.

  He smelled of the forest, a slight hint of evergreen and moss that both filled her with peace and kicked her lust into overdrive. The hard contours of his body molded to hers, reminding her he was a man built to quench the fires he ignited. The only thing she hadn’t experienced was his kiss. She’d bet money his mouth tasted equally as decadent. Chocolate came to mind. It would be just her luck. Everything else about her kidnapper’s body appealed to her. Why shouldn’t he taste of her favorite food too?

  “Do you understand now, beautiful Lena, why I remained silent?”

  Her eyelids drifted shut. His voice…oh God, his voice whispered into her ear was pure sin. Its deep timbre slid through her body and touched every inch.

  He nipped her earlobe. “Answer me.”

  She nodded immediately, unable to ignore the huskily delivered order.

  “Good. With that in the open between us, let me rephrase my question.” The butterfly caress of his lips sent shivers through her body. She squirmed, hating her easy reaction to him. “If you tell me where the cub is, not only will I allow you to leave, I’ll also throw in five grand for your troubles.”

  Lena laughed. “First off, if that’s the opinion you have of humans, you’re hanging around the wrong people. Second, five grand is pocket change to me. Your great motivator is lacking. You might as well either kill me or let me go, because my answer stands.”

  He sighed, not the reaction she was hoping for. She wanted him annoyed so he’d stop touching her. It was hard to resist him when he touched her. He could’ve had some hold of her that
made her want to believe him. Good thing she’d been burned enough times not to fall for such a ploy.

  “I didn’t want to resort to this, but you leave me no choice.”

  He rolled them, blanketing her body with his. With her wrists grasped in one hand, he tugged her arms above her head. She should’ve been terrified, but she stared at him openmouthed. The sight of him in all his naked glory had the same effect it had the last time. It left her muddled inside. No man should look as he did.

  Hauntingly beautiful, as deadly and gorgeous as the tiger he housed.

  Corded muscle roped his chest and arms, the definition showcasing the incredible strength packed onto his body. A soft dusting of hair covered his torso and tempted her gaze lower. She wanted to look, but couldn’t tear her attention from his face.

  Sharp cheekbones hardened his features, making him more striking than handsome, but the wider, flatter nose softened his harsh face. Long black lashes framed exotic, up-tilted eyes. With them closed, she couldn’t see their color so she turned her attention to his hair.

  Sections of gold, red, and brown decorated the thick black hair covering his head. She’d call it a dye job, but she knew shifters always returned to the body they were born with when they morphed from animal to human. The amazing display in front of her was natural.

  “Lena?”

  She flicked her gaze to his and gasped. Yellow eyes streaked with green and brown studied her, the odd color complementing the patchwork hair.

  Wow. She squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them. Nope, not crazy. She’d thought his feline eyes belonged to the werecat form he’d taken while attacking the other shifters. Apparently not, and these eyes weren’t vacant as they’d been then. They were hot, hungry. He looked as if he wanted to eat her alive, but in a good way, one that would leave her begging for more.

  Her breath escaped in a long sigh.

  “Disgusted?”

  She said the only thing she could. “Beautiful. You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.”

  His grip eased on her wrists, and he stared at her as if she was a bug he studied.

  “I’m not a man.”

  No, he wasn’t, and she shouldn’t desire him. She knew firsthand the dangers of getting involved with a shifter, but the ones she’d tangled with before were nothing compared to the incredible male watching her with guarded, wary eyes as if waiting for her to change her mind.

  “Shifter, man. Doesn’t matter. You’re still gorgeous.”

  He cleared his throat and bent closer until his breathtaking eyes became her world. “Then you should be happy with your fate, little human.”

  Fear slithered into her stomach, churning it until bile rose. “And that is?”

  “I won’t rape you.” He spat the words, obviously following her train of thought.

  She licked her lips. “That’s good to hear.”

  “But I won’t let you go until you tell me where the cub is.”

  Her belly flip-flopped. The determination in his voice left no room for discussion.

  “That’s kidnapping.”

  “You would know a thing or two about kidnapping, wouldn’t you? You’re the one who was ready to hand an innocent child over to a dangerous pride of lions.” Disgust etched his features. “Why? What’s in it for you? Do you hate us so much that you’d destroy a little girl’s life?”

  She didn’t answer. What was the point? He wouldn’t believe her, and she’d made a promise. Nothing he did would make her betray her little sister. Molly had been through too much, suffered more than any child—shifter or human—should.

  She had to stick to the plan—give her younger sister, Gwen, the chance to get Molly to safety, away from all the shifters who wanted to get their hands on one of the last unmated, female white lion shifters. Yeah, she knew exactly what those men wanted—to secure their incubator so when she came of age, she could pop out babies for them. Not. Happening.

  “Answer me.”

  She sneered. “Make me.”

  He covered her mouth with his, his tongue prodding against her lips, incessant and demanding. Instead of forcing his entry, he adjusted his hold on her wrists. He rubbed gentle circles into the center of her palm, the soft touch at odds with his hungry kiss. He was seducing her. She knew that was his goal. The knowledge helped. She remained passive under him, ignoring the warmth heating her limbs.

  He pulled back, frustration tightening his features so creases ran across his forehead. She glanced from his narrowed eyes to his mouth. Fangs descended, the sharpened canines moving easily into place.

  He gave her shoulders a little shake. “Kiss me back, woman. I know you want to.”

  With her eyes locked to the fangs that had ripped a man’s throat out, she whispered, “I want you to let me go.”

  He climbed off the bed and grabbed sweats from the edge of a chair. She turned away from the sight of his firm behind and studied the nightstand, its dark wood scratched and nicked. A black phone sat in the center with a sticker reminding that checkout was at noon. They were in a hotel.

  That was good. He probably wouldn’t kill her in a hotel. Too many witnesses.

  Her belly twisted at the thought. She almost felt guilty for thinking he would hurt her. Okay, scratch that. She did feel guilty. Other than scaring her, he hadn’t done anything to hurt her.

  She studied her kidnapper. She guessed he stood at over six and a half feet. A wide back tapered to a tucked-in waist. Loose gray pants hung low on his hips and bare feet that matched the proportions of the man—gigantic—flattened the plush carpet. Biceps thicker than her thighs bunched as he flexed and released those dinner-plate sized hands.

  He ran his long fingers over his patchwork hair. The strands stood on edge. With the second sweep over his skull, he linked his fingers over the back of his head and groaned.

  She dropped her gaze before she gave in to the urge to ask if he was all right. Her fascination with him wasn’t healthy. Outward appearances didn’t make the man, and he was a dangerous predator. Big cats did not make good cuddle buddies.

  She pushed her body into a sitting position. The movement tugged her abused stomach. Preparing for the worst, she glanced at her belly. Instead of a bruised and beaten body, she saw her familiar tanned skin—blood free, without any ugly black-and-blue splotches, with just a gauze square taped over her belly.

  “How long was I unconscious?”

  He tensed and rubbed one of his big hands over the back of his neck but didn’t turn around. She glanced away when it became apparent he wasn’t going to answer and ran a finger over a splotch of shiny new skin on her knee. Anxiety settled in her bones. A lot could happen in a matter of days.

  “Few hours,” he muttered.

  She looked at him. His arm was folded against the wall, his forehead resting on it.

  “I tended your wounds. Most won’t scar.”

  Lena opened her mouth to ask how he’d tended them but decided against it. Engaging him in conversation wasn’t the smartest move. Besides, something told her she didn’t want to know.

  Eyes narrowed, she studied him for some clue as to his motives. Tension radiated from him. Any number of reasons could’ve caused it—guilt, frustration, animosity. She dismissed the reason as unimportant and asked the question that bothered her the most.

  “Why did you attack me?”

  “I didn’t attack you.”

  No apology this time. When he’d held her cradled against his chest, it was all he’d done. Maybe he’d gotten over his regret.

  If she was honest with herself, he hadn’t attacked her. The more she replayed the scene, the more details she picked out. He’d truly been lost to his anger. He’d acted as an abused dog would when cornered—lash out at everyone within striking distance.

  She wasn’t even sure why she’d wobbled on her twisted ankle to get to him while he’d been fighting those men. She’d only known that she needed to touch him.

  “Lena?”

  She glanc
ed from the neatly dressed injury to the shifter who’d caused it. His chin dropped to his chest. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m…I’m sorry.”

  The sincerity in his voice struck her as truth, but instead of absolving him of the act, she asked, “Who are you? And what do you want from me?”

  He glanced over his shoulder. The muscles in his back flexed. He turned the simple move into a masculine show of strength.

  “Devin Moore and you know what I want.” His gaze skimmed over her body before zeroing in on her stomach. He scowled. “You’re bleeding again.”

  She pressed a hand to her belly and sucked in a sharp breath. More expletives fell from Devin’s lips. She moved to get up. The motion sent pain shooting down her arm, the one the other shifter had yanked on when he’d tried to pull her from the rock wall.

  Devin knelt in front of her, his concerned expression at odds with the image she’d imprinted of him while she’d been writhing in pain on the forest floor. He cupped her cheek in his large hand. She barely stopped herself from leaning into it.

  “I’m sorry, Lena, but you shouldn’t have run from me or led me into a trap.”

  A trap? Did he think she was in cahoots with those shifters?

  She snorted and immediately grimaced as dizziness made the world sway. Devin pulled her close and pressed her head to his chest. The warmth of his skin and his strong earthy scent soothed her. Her body went lax in his embrace.

  The man was dangerous. If he’d seduced her, she might’ve told him everything.

  “You’re telling me this is my fault?”

  With his hands on her shoulders, he eased her away from him and captured her gaze. “No, I’m saying that maybe you should pick better friends.”

  “They weren’t my friends.”

  A long moment passed in silence. He cleared his throat. “Yeah? What are they to you, then? You were holding one of those shifter’s hands.”