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She started to reply, but the citrusy, ocean scent of him hit her senses like a drug and she couldn’t find her voice. His skin radiated heat that made her cheeks flush and her own skin feel too warm and tight on her body.

He leaned over the side of her chair, until his face was nearly level with hers. His arched brow and slow grin tugged her core, made her breath dry up in her lungs.

“Broody billionaires and red rooms of pain?” Zael chuckled. “I wouldn’t have guessed that was your particular kink, but I have to admit I’m intrigued.”

Brynne glanced at the cover and felt her face ignite. She set the book down on the side table next to the chair and folded her arms tightly across her chest. “I imagine all it takes to intrigue you is a warm pulse and a vagina.”

He stared at her shamelessly. “It’s definitely a good start.”

“You’re unbelievable.” On a huff, she stood up and walked away from him.

“Hey. Wait,” he said. He didn’t let her get far before she suddenly found him standing right in front of her, blocking her path. He frowned. “It was a joke, Brynne. Don’t tell me you’re still upset with me because of the other night?”

“I’m not upset. I’m simply not interested.”

“No? Then why are you acting like a jealous lov—” He drew back, a look of confusion on his face. “What do you think you saw between Dylan and me just now?”

“Nothing,” she denied, then doubled down on the lie. “I could not possibly care less what’s going on with you or any of the females you keep company with. I came in here to read and relax. Alone. So, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to find somewhere else to do that now.”

She stepped around him, disgusted with herself for the bitter anger flooding her veins. She should be pleased he was directing his attention on another woman. She certainly had bigger things to worry about in her life than this male or anything he—

“Dylan is my daughter.”

Brynne’s feet stilled beneath her, two paces short of her escape. Slowly, she pivoted to face him again. “Your daughter?”

That explained the intimacy, the affection she saw in both of them. That explained Zael’s obvious tenderness toward the woman.

Brynne had no experience with parental bonds, or the skills to recognize them. She’d never had anything close to that in her life. Her own parents were unwilling laboratory prisoners forced together as part of a sick breeding experiment. She’d never seen either one of them, and both were long dead now.

According to Brynne’s research, the Breedmate who bore her had never escaped the lab. And while the Ancient who sired her and Tavia and all the rest of their dozens of half-sisters had eventually managed to break away from his captor some two decades ago, it was only to wreak havoc and cut a bloody swath across thousands of miles before being killed in a confrontation with the Order.

Brynne was little more than a genetic cocktail of monster and innocent—a fucked up mixture besides.

“I found out about Dylan when I came to meet with Lucan the first time,” Zael explained, his deep voice level and sincere. “She’s mated to one of the warriors, Rio. For more than twenty years she’s been a part of the Order’s family, but until last week I didn’t even know she existed.”

How stupid she felt now, how petty, for assuming the worst about him. Again. But why wouldn’t she? Zael seemed to take great pleasure in provoking her and then gloating over her reaction.

But he wasn’t needling her now. When he spoke, his tone had been solemn, edged with something that sounded unmistakably like regret.

“I met Dylan’s mother many years ago in Greece. I was passing through and she was on holiday from the States. She was also married. She wasn’t happy, but that doesn’t excuse the way I pursued her. We had a brief affair, then went our separate ways. I . . . never saw her again.”

An affair with someone else’s wife wasn’t something he was proud of—that much was certain. But Zael wasn’t telling her everything. Brynne’s investigative training spotted the dodge around the full truth. She also thought she detected a note of shame behind those fathomless blue eyes—shame that went beyond what he felt about seducing a married woman.

But it didn’t matter what he kept from her. Brynne hadn’t been forthright with him about every shame in her life either. She wasn’t about to start now.

Reminded of all the reasons she could never drop her guard with anyone, she steeled herself against the softening of her feelings for him.

“Congratulations on your reunion with your daughter. I’m sure it must be difficult keeping track of all the fruits of your affairs.”

He stared at her, clearly taken aback. She couldn’t blame him. It was a cheap shot, but she was desperate.

She turned to head back for the door, but this time Zael grabbed her by the wrist and yanked her back to him. His strength was a shock. As was the fury and confusion she saw smoldering in his narrowed glower.

“What are you doing, Brynne?” His low voice dropped to a fierce growl. “Why do you try so hard to push people away?”

She scowled, feeling her blood start to race. She didn’t know if it was fear or fury causing her veins to light up. All she knew was that she was treading on dangerous ground with him now. Had been practically from the first moment they met. “Let go of me.”

He didn’t. Slowly, he shook his head. “Tell me why you fight so hard to be left alone. What are you so damned afraid of?”

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