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She pushed that thought aside, not quite ready to deal with the repercussions of it yet. “Don’t sound so cocky,” she said, refusing to admit to anything.
“Cocky or convinced?” Jace grinned. “You tell me.”
Frankie let out a bemused huff. She liked this side of him, really. The banter and chase of it. But what she really wanted from him was the tenderness underneath. The man who could do more than meet her quip for quip, the man who could care for her. Kiss her worries away.
Or at the very least, make love to her until she forgot her own obligations once again.
Until she lost herself a little.
He’d been her perfect escape.
And he would be again, if she could only let him.
“You’re stalling,” she said, quickly changing the subject. Though it was more for her own sake. “The pace of the attacks may have lessened, but there’s still no time to waste.”
Ever since Robert had made himself known to them in Manhattan Square Park, things had been surprisingly silent on the killer’s end. Not that Frankie wasn’t more than grateful for that. Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling that this was simply the quiet before the storm, and that didn’t even take Jace and his division’s confrontation with Execution Underground Headquarters into consideration.
Time was ticking, though what the fallout would be, she still wasn’t sure.
She couldn’t speculate what their world would look like once the organization could no longer hide their obvious division, when Jace and the rest of the Rochester division would no doubt separate themselves. Form a new organization.
She supposed only time would tell.
Jace rolled his shoulders, squaring himself up in a way that highlighted the strength of his form. Frankie had more than a passing feeling the show was more for her benefit than his.
“Okay, you win. For now. Let’s get this over with.”
Frankie rolled her eyes. “It’s not that easy. You’re not going to learn it in a few hours.”
“It seems simple enough for all of you. You do it within a matter of seconds.”
She sighed and shook her head. “We’re full-blooded. It’ll be harder for you. And even we had to learn how to control it, when we were pups—kids,” she clarified at the lift of his brow.
Jace’s face fell into a frown. “How long does it usually take to learn?”
She let out a long sigh. She hadn’t been looking forward to disclosing this part. “Weeks. But we can’t afford that. We both know you only have a few days at most.”
“Shit,” Jace swore, his bravado wavering. “I may be good, but I’m notthatgood.”
At least he had something in the way of modesty.
She placed her hands on her hips, and the look which crossed her face was pure attitude. The face of a fair, but dissatisfied packmaster. “Unless you want more women to die, you’ll shift and you’ll do it soon. Exactly like I show you. We’re going to be working all our available waking hours until you get this mastered.”
It was his turn to roll his eyes then. “If you say so, teach.”
“Don’t be a smart-ass,” she snapped, though it was belied by a teasing grin. “Are you ready?”
He shrugged. “For you?” A smirk twisted his lips. “I’m always ready, Frankie.”
18
It’d been several days and still Jace hadn’t shifted.
Working with him so closely on this and not indulging the heat between them had become a chore. A tedious. Awful. Tantalizing. Chore. Jace stood across from her inside the empty club, rocking his shirtless arms back and forth as he tried to get his head clear. The predatory grace with which he moved reminded her of a caged animal.
Frankie’s eyes widened, the memory of his arms flexing as he drove himself into her invading her mind. Heat shot to her core. And she’d had to stand here, watching him flex and train and move like this for the past several days.
Not once had he come to the Imperial, kept her bed warm, despite all the teasing and flirting going on when they were together.
