Page 5 of Claimed By The Tracker

My heartbeat stumbled.

"Give me one good reason I shouldn't scream."

His gaze moved over my face.

"You won't."

My smile sharpened. "Confident."

"Accurate."

I should have been furious.

Instead, some completely traitorous part of me noticed his voice.

Low. Rough.

The kind of voice that shouldn't have done anything to my breathing while I was running for my life.

It did anyway.

Then he said, "You're the runaway."

Everything inside me went still.

"Wrong woman." I kept my voice light. "Just waiting for the roads to clear. Long drive ahead."

He didn't answer.

He watched me.

Patient in a way that didn't feel like patience at all.

More like a predator that had already closed the last exit and wasn't in any hurry about what came next.

Then something changed.

His nostrils flared.

His entire body went rigid.

His jaw locked.

Both hands flattened against the tabletop, pressing down like he was holding something back.

A muscle jumped along his forearm.

Once.

Twice.

Like something beneath his skin had woken up and was testing the door.

He was smelling me.

And whatever he smelled was costing him control.

I saw the exact moment his eyes changed.