Page 95 of Bodyguards In Bed


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Was it one night or a lifetime of nights? Or an exquisite, erotic dream. Spooned with her back against his body, Rowena felt him hard and deep within her. She slid her hip against a muscular thigh, aware of him beginning to move within her once again. She savored the wicked mouth against the skin of her neck, pleasured by the slow slide of his lips. Losing herself in his deliberate caress, she reveled in his hands cupping and stroking, his fingers slipping into the shadows and downward to lightly tease her swollen, sentized flesh.

“Stay here . . . with me,” he whispered, breath hot in her ear.

And she did. For one night or a lifetime of nights, she would never know.

Good girls should NEVER CRY WOLF.

But who wants to be good?

Be sure to pick up Cynthia Eden’s latest novel,

out next month!

Lucas didn’t take the woman back to his house on Bryton Road. The place was probably still crawling with cops and reporters, and he didn’t feel like dealing with all that crap.

He called his first in command, Piers Stratus, to let him know that he was out of jail and to tell him that there two unwanted coyotes in town.

The woman—Sarah—didn’t speak while he drove. He could feel the waves of tension rolling off her, shaking her body.

She was scared. She’d done a fair job of hiding her fear back at the police station and then at the park, at first anyway. But as the darkness had fallen, he’d seen the fear. Smelled it.

Sarah had known she was being hunted.

He pushed a button on his remote. The wrought-iron gates before him opened and revealed the curving drive that led to his second LA home. In the hills, it gave him a great view of the city below, and that view let know him when company was coming, long before any unexpected guests arrived.

When the gate shut behind him, he saw Sarah sag slightly, settling back into her seat. The scent of her fear finally eased.

Like most of his kind, he usually enjoyed the smell of fear. But he didn’t . . . like the scent on her.

He much preferred the softer scent, like vanilla cream, that he could all but taste as it clung to her skin. Perhaps he would get a taste, later.

With a flick of his wrist, he killed the ignition. The house was right in front of them. Two stories, Long, tall windows.

And, he hoped, no more dead bodies.

He eased out of the car, stretching slowly. Then he walked around and opened the door for Sarah. As any man would, Lucas admired the pale flash of thigh when her skirt crept up. And he wondered just what secrets the lovely lady was keeping from him.

“We’re going to talk.” An order. He wanted to know everything, starting with why the dead human had been at his place.

She gave a quick nod. “Okay, I—”

A wolf bounded out of the house. A flash of black fur. Golden eyes. Teeth.

Shit. It wasn’t safe for the kid. Not until he found out what was going on—

The wolf ran to him. Tossed back his head and howled.

Sarah laughed softly.

Laughed.

His stare shot to her just in time to catch the smile on her lips. His hand lifted, and, almost helplessly, he traced that smile with his fingertips.

Her breath caught.

Lucas ignored the tightening in his gut. “Shouldn’t you be afraid?” After the coyotes, he’d expected her to flinch away from any other shifters. And Jordan was one big wolf, with claws and teeth that could easily rip a woman like Sarah apart.

She looked back at the wlf who watched them. “He’s so young, little more than a kid. One who’s glad you’re—”

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