| As the wall to Dorky’s office dematerialized and Grey stood in the
opening, her mouth fell open in complete astonishment. Her heart thumped anxiously
in her chest and her blood raced in her veins. Grey stood in front of her, alive
and kicking.
She knew what he looked like, but faced with the real man, her heart and body
reacted with soul-searing attraction. Experiencing the full force of six-foot
three-inches of bristling, ready-to-kick-serious-ass male sent her into a strange
fright.
May all the gods and goddesses help me.
Without a doubt, she had never seen a more intriguing, gorgeous man in her
life. Considering how many men she’d seen, that said quite a bit.
He dragged a hand through his burnished dark copper hair, the tousled, collar-length
strands shiny, wavy and thick. Strands fell over his forehead. His Roman nose
was classically shaped, his jawline a rugged cut. His skin didn’t have the
typical pale hue of a redhead. He’d managed to maintain a light tan from
his frequent jaunts to hotter climates, or perhaps his ancestry was more than
Irish. His body held the bristling, tight masculinity of a highly conditioned
man. Broad shoulders and arms filled his navy shirt to perfection. One shirtsleeve
was torn at the shoulder and the open throat of the shirt arrowed down all the
way to his belly. Her attention pinpointed his chest and the generous sprinkling
of russet hair over muscled pectorals and a six-pack stomach. Female appreciation
darted deep into her belly and she licked her lips.
His pewter and dusk gaze, shadowed by thick russet brows, captured hers and
held it. Fire brimmed in those eyes, mixed with purpose and irritation. “Dorky?”
His husky voice, so familiar, sent curls of answering excitement all along
her body. Almost afraid to answer, she opened her mouth and nothing came out.
He frowned and stalked toward her. The open area behind him rematerialized
into solid matter. He swung around to look and when he turned back to look at
her, his glower remained.
Her heart felt like it might pound out of her chest. She took one step back.
Two. “I didn’t know you were out there. Then I heard a commotion and
I opened the…the door.”
She continued retreating until she bumped into a desk behind her. When Grey
stood less then a foot from her, he stopped. His heat seemed to sear into her,
making her even more aware of his masculine energy. At five-foot eight-inches
tall, she rarely felt intimidated by a man’s height. His presence managed
to alarm her in a completely new way.
“You’ve got to be Dorky,” he said, his voice amazingly soft
considering the ire in his expression. Then his voice went deeper and huskier.
“You’re as beautiful as I imagined.”
A flash fire ignited inside her. Ages had passed since an attractive male had
been this close to her, much less complimented her. Dorky’s body went on
overload. Her breasts prickled with heat. In her belly, an answering tug sent
new waves of incredible attraction moving inside her.
“Thank you,” she said, a little bewildered.
He looked down at her, weighty emotion flashing in those incredible eyes. Her
breathing quickened as his body heat warmed her. The man was danger on two legs,
an exceedingly difficult person to ignore. His lips parted, his chest heaved in
and out with one deep breath. For a second she thought he would follow through
on his earlier threat to kiss her. She expected it. Had imagined it many days
and many nights over the years.
She craved it.
With reverence, his gaze traced her face. For one moment, a smile took over
his whole face. “I can’t believe it’s you.”
He sounded so happy—his pleasure sent an answering wave of delight through
her. “What were you expecting? An ancient hag?”
He chuckled. “I didn’t know.”
Disappointment stabbed her when she realized he didn’t have any intention
of kissing her. The man liked to flirt, that was all. God, she must banish these
ridiculous, girly fantasies about him before she became infatuated with the idea
of romance. Romance didn’t find her often. Not very often at all. Now that
she’d met him, they could move on to more important and pressing ventures.
She reached up, concerned about a trickle of blood she saw on his temple. As
she touched his jaw and turned his head slightly to the side, the prickly sensation
of his five o’clock shadow made her fingers tingle. “You’re
hurt. If I’d known the Realm Guardians would attack—”
He caught her hand and held it. “I’m fine.”
His gentle but unbreakable grip made her wrist and fingers fill with warmth.
A strong array of conflicting sentiments coursed through her psyche. Concern for
his physical well-being, anger, fear all intruded. Familiarity came along with
these feelings, as if she’d known him all her life.
“You’re not fine. You look like you’ve been through hell.”
With a sardonic tilt to his mouth, he said, “Gee, thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
His devouring gaze held her rooted to the spot, anticipation jumping and sparking
in her body like a live wire.
If he would just reach out…if she would just reach out.
The respite lasted but a second then his expression clouded. “Would you
mind telling me what the hell is going on? Who are those freaky things that attacked
me outside in the hall? And what about that weird wall? How did it dematerialize
like that?”
The man was too potent and vital to ignore and so were his questions. When
he released her, she moved away from her desk and put distance between them so
she could think straight.
“One question at a time,” she said softly.
He heaved a deep breath. “All right. Who the hell jumped me and tried
to rearrange my face?”
-top- |
Return
to Book Index
Clandestine
