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“What’s so funny?” she asked.

“The way you look. You’re very enthusiastic and part of me expected resistance.”

Instead of being offended, she chuckled. “Of everything you’ve seen me do over the past two nights, what would lead you to think for a moment I wouldn’t want to take part in this mission?”

“You’re right. I’m just not used to being around a woman like you.” His words opened the air between them, spinning time out. He held her gaze, and she matched him, not wavering as she stared back. He felt as though he had a dozen things he wanted to say to her, but what these might be he had no idea.

A voice came over Regan’s home security system. “Mistress, you have a visitor at your front door.”

Regan turned toward a monitor set into the bookcase to her left. “Show me, please?”

The monitor came on and Zane recognized the vampire at once. “Ian’s here. Good.”

Zane turned toward Regan, but she wore an odd expression, her lips parted. “What is it?” he asked.

Regan pulled her shoulders back. “Nothing.” She closed her eyes, appearing confused. Then a sudden blush climbed her cheeks. When her eyes popped open, she said, “Sorry. I used to know Mastyr Ian very well. We were… involved, but that was a long time ago. And for a moment, I was back there.”

And Ian had said he’d been to the guild several centuries ago. Funny how some memories never seemed to age.

Still, Zane had never been more surprised. The Ruby Fae rarely lost her footing, but she’d done so just now. And she’d essentially confessed to having had an affair with one of the roughest mastyrs in all the Nine Realms. Ian made Zane look like a mild fae scholar.

Ian was a man of few words, who seemed to scowl his way through life, and whose presence intimidated the hell out of everyone. Zane had a hard time reconciling the woman and her formal home with the vampire who never wore the traditional Guardsman woven shirt. Instead, he left his chest bare, exposing a massive tattoo encompassing his pecs. He wore heavy rings on each of his fingers, even his thumbs. His black brows were thick and sat low on his forehead. Rumors were he kept two women captive in a cave somewhere in the mountains of his realm and used them for his pleasure, but Zane didn’t believe it.

“I don’t want to see him,” Regan said.

“No problem. I’ll take care of this. And don’t worry, Ian won’t be at Angler’s Cliff either. He’ll be in charge of the Guard in the rest of the realm, while I get my troops deployed out at the camp.”

Regan nodded. He glanced at Olivia and lowered his chin. His voice came out like he was speaking with a rumbling engine against his throat. “And I don’t want you anywhere near Mastyr Ian.”

If he thought to offend her, she caught his arm and a sudden wave of her cinnamon scent flowed over him. She held his gaze in a firm grip. “You’re the one,” she said quietly. “No one but you.”

Her words about knocked Zane flat and his mating frequency began to flow inside his chest, moving around so he could hardly breathe.

He slid his arm around her waist and held her fast. He continued to stare into her eyes. The room seemed to disappear and a flash of movement told him Regan had discreetly left them alone.

The moment she was gone, he pulled Olivia hard against him and kissed her. This time, he could feel her mating frequency as well, much stronger now, and he let his go, driving through her chest to swirl over hers. The sensation was so erotic, he grew hard as a rock in a handful of seconds, ready to give her what she needed.

He kissed her wildly and savored the feel of her hands kneading the muscles of his arms. She moaned softly.

He connected his hips to hers, letting her feel how much she’d heated him up.

Her hands drifted to his ass. She grabbed him in a not-so-gentle grasp, forcing him closer. She then arched her hips and rubbed back and forth.

Goddess help him, he loved how she engaged with him so easily.

He was pretty sure only a minute had passed, but he swore if he could get inside her, he’d thrust three times and come.

Needing desperately to draw back, however, because Ian was at the front door, he created a slight physical distance between his hips and hers.

Sorry, he pathed. Ian.

I know. She was breathing hard, her fingers gripping his shoulders, squeezing. “What a beautiful kind of madness this is,” she said, chuckling softly.

“Yes, it is.” He realized he was smiling. Again.

But he had to work at calming down, so he thought about anything other than the woman in his arms. He formed a vision of the moon rising over Maris Luna, the shape of the Arundel Mountains which split his realm east and west, the way the forest moved as a storm rolled through.

When he could walk without either hurting or embarrassing himself, he left Olivia in the library and headed swiftly to the front door.

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