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His fingers gently clutched the nape of her neck.
And still, he didn’t kiss her.
Gasping for breath, she wanted to tell him he was full of himself, that she wouldn’t go along with his game, even to save her own skin. Ridiculous as it was, she wanted to tell him that she wouldn’t even pretend to kiss him if he was the last man on earth because he was her enemy, goddamnit, and she didn’t know him. Not to mention, she was engaged to be married to someone else—even if that someone was a packmaster not of her own choosing. A man she barely knew. She wanted to tell him that no matter what, she wouldn’t allow it.
But somehow, she couldn’t find the words.
An echo of desire thrummed deep within her, distant, yet hot and wicked from the feel of his rough fingers at her throat and the hard, surprising ridge of his arousal against her. As if the very air she breathed wanted to betray her, the cold breeze between them seemed to crackle with tension, charged with electricity, and for a moment, the ludicrous thought that perhaps they’d been meant to meet each other tonight passed through her mind.
Still, he didn’t kiss her.
He held every ounce of power to do so, yet he didn’t dare use it. Even though he could. His lips could be on hers even though he only had a small amount of breath. Even though part of her wanted him to.
It wouldn’t be a real kiss. It would be a fake kiss to save her and nothing more. That’s the only reason she wanted him to.
She knew that. He knew that. They both did. They were strangers, after all. She couldn’t help that itfeltreal. Her eyes flashed to her wolf.
“Kiss me or I’ll die.” The words fell from her lips before she could stop them.
He chuckled and the deep sound twisted something low in her belly. “Not tonight.”
Whether he meant her death or his kiss, she couldn’t be certain.
The human beat cop rounded the corner then, drawing their whispers to a halt as his gaze immediately found them, tangled together in the orange glow of the streetlights and now the high beam of his Maglite. Frankie flinched against the searing glow. In an instant, the tension between them dissipated.
“Evenin’, Officer.” The hunter nodded toward the beat cop as he held her steady against him. He cast the cop that disgustingly charming grin as if he had all the right in the world to be in that alley. She could practically imagine him out west in Montana Grey Wolf territory, tipping his Stetson low over his brow, upstate accent or not.
The beat cop adjusted his too-tight belt buckle as he held his Maglite high. “You two see anyone come through here? Someone called in gunshots.”
“Gunshots?” The hunter quirked a brow, his eyes wide with mock fear.
The ease with which humans could lie to one another never ceased to stun her. Her kind never bothered with false pretenses. They could practically smell it on each another.
And hewashuman. She glanced up toward those vibrant eyes again.
Wasn’t he?
“No, sir,” the hunter continued, shaking his head. “Though we saw someone run that way a few minutes ago.” He gave a nod in the opposite direction toward where the victim’s body lay several alleys beyond.
Clearly, he was hoping to lead the beat cop in the right direction—and more importantly, away from them.
The cop nodded. “Thanks.” He turned to walk away, then paused mid-stride. He gestured between them with a dismissive wave. “And you two do me a favor and go get a room, would ya?”
A wave of embarrassed heat rushed to her cheeks, even as the hunter nodded. “Yes, sir.”
A moment later, the cop was gone, disappeared into the darkness and the din of the city, leaving her and the hunter alone once again. For a long beat, neither of them moved. Frankie’s breath rose and fell in ragged pants, the heat of it swirling about her face in the freezing night air, both of them filled with awareness of human fragility, yet...the danger those same humans posed to their existence—her existence.
Pushing off her, the hunter stripped off his trench coat, passing it toward her. “Put this on.”
She didn’t question it. She slipped on the coat and pulled it tight around her in case the cop rounded back again. As she did, she met the hunter’s haunting emerald gaze, this man who for all purposes was somehow both legendary and mysterious, as she breathed out the question which his nearness seemed to have burned into her lips.
“What are you?”
3
“What am I?” Jace shook his head. “Hell of a question for a woman who was a wolf five minutes ago.” He let out a frustrated grumble, and stepped away from her. He needed to place some distance between them, because moments earlier, despite the fact that he’d been staring down an offense with the local PD for an illegal weapons discharge or solicitation at best and a murder he hadn’t committed at worst, he hadn’t been desperate for distance.
He’d been desperate forher. A woman, a wolf he didn’t even know, and shit if that didn’t take this situation to a whole new level of clusterfuck.
