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Christ, pissed didn’t even come close to describing the fury that shadowed the beautiful depths a much darker shade. A fury that only deepened as the seconds ticked by.

He studied her in silence, noticing for the first time the pain that clung to her features as well. Her emotions were laid bare for him and they caught at his gut. Slowly he relaxed his grip on her arms and felt a tug of admiration as her eyes flashed resentment and she continued to struggle against him.

He had to admit, the woman had spunk. But spunk wouldn’t keep her safe from the jaguars that were hot on her trail.

“You’re going to have to kill me, asshole. I’ll never let you take me again.”

The words slipped from her tongue with a snarl. Jagger kept the smile he felt inside from manifesting itself. He somehow knew that would piss her off even more.

Instead he remained quiet and took his time studying her features before his gaze traveled down to where her chest heaved against the thin fabric of a faded T-shirt. A vision of her straining breasts, plastered to the white tank top she’d worn the previous night, danced in front of his eyes and he tore his gaze away, needing a moment to collect his thoughts.

When his eyes met hers once more he felt a perverse pleasure as her heart rate increased with rapid precision, and her cheeks flushed pink as she took notice of his nakedness, pressed so intimately against her body.

He couldn’t help himself and a sly grin wavered around the corners of his mouth, but the rush of heat that flooded his dick soon took the smile away.

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sp; “You’re the shifter from last night.” Her eyes narrowed and while still ringed with fear, they seemed confused.

Jagger paused and then nodded. “Yeah, and uh, you’re welcome for saving your ass.” His face darkened slightly as he continued. “And thanks for the knock in the nuts this morning, nothing like a shot to the balls to really wake you up.”

The woman beneath him again struggled and cursed loudly, and Jagger applied just enough pressure with his powerful thighs and arms to keep her still. He didn’t trust her one bit, and ignored the slight wince that crossed her delicate features.

He didn’t understand any of what was going on, but he knew one thing for sure. The feel of her beneath him was pulling at all sorts of long-repressed desires and his skin burned hot with them.

The more pressure he applied, the more she struggled, and after a few moments she exploded as frustration and fury ate at her.

“What the fuck are you waiting for? Just do it and get it over with. It’s not like you left anything for me to come back to.”

The misery in her voice gave him pause, and Jagger relented. He leaned back and jumped to his feet, pulling her body along, up with him. They stood close together, her blond head just reaching the top of his shoulder. Her sweet scent clung to his nostrils and he fought the urge to bury his nose in the wild curtain of hair that fell well past her shoulders.

What was it about this woman that called to him so?

He felt her body tremble and a small gasp escaped from between her lips as she spied the satchel that was strung across his powerful shoulders. He watched as her eyes studied the tattoos that were so proudly on display, and the muscles in his abs tightened as her gaze slid over his body. “You’re not DaCosta.”

She inhaled raggedly and he felt a bolt of electricity shoot through him as her eyes slowly traveled up and met his. She’d successfully hidden her emotions in the blue depths, but the telltale blush of pink still stained her golden cheeks.

She was like a goddess straight from an island of sunshine, all tawny, lush curves, golden skin, and liquid-gold hair.

Her mention of the jaguar shifters rudely brought his fantasies to a halt. The woman was in danger, inviting the wrath of one of the most ruthless warrior clans that existed and he didn’t even know her name.

Seemed he should, considering he was about to plunge headlong into another war with the DaCostas, and he didn’t even know why. He only knew that this woman needed his help and protection.

And he was willing to give it. Hell, every cell in his body was electrified at the thought of battle.

“Who are you?”

Once more Jagger inhaled her sweet scent as his question hung in the air between them.

She ignored it, and tried to grab the satchel away from him.

He easily kept it from her, and frowned as once more her trace signature felt foreign to him. She wasn’t wholly human, that was for sure. But what the hell was she?

“What are you?”

That question caught her off guard, and she stilled, her eyebrows rose incredulously.

“What kind of game is this now?” she huffed, and laughed harshly as she repeated his question: “What am I? You are joking, right?”

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