her face. She suppressed the urge to glance behind her for the woman he was truly devouring with his eyes.
Was this whole scary situation worth it just so she could experience that look? Just so she could have the knowledge of what it was like to have a man like that look at her as if she were the only woman in the world?
All her life she’d lived in the shadow of her aunts, who were so stunningly lovely that eddas were written about them. Though Emma’s mother was dead, Emma was still overwhelmed by universal tales of her fabled beauty.
Emma was scrawny, pale, and…befanged.
Yet a man this handsome was giving her a look that could smelt metal. If he hadn’t terrified her and attacked her—if he could be the gentle lover who’d cupped her breast and rumbled in her ear that her skin was soft—would she leave with him? Her eyes met his. This male had touched her and made her feel things she hadn’t before, things she’d envied others. Merely nestling her face against his naked chest had been a new experience that she would never trade for anything.
Feeling bolder, she allowed her gaze to flicker over his body before slowly inching back up to his face. He wasn’t smirking or scowling, but looked as if he was thinking the same thoughts she was.
She found herself drawn to him, her mind and thoughts shutting down, like she was disconnected from reality. As her heels clicked across the lobby’s marble floor toward him, her body seemed to come alive. He stood fully, visibly tensing.
Her breasts seemed fuller. Her ears were uncovered in public, with only her long, freed hair to conceal them. She felt as though she’d gone out without a bra—she felt a little…naughty. When the sudden urge came to taste her lips, she did. He clenched his hands in response.
She wanted one thing from him, and if he could give it to her, shouldn’t she risk the rest? She’d risked the shower with him for the same reason, and he hadn’t hurt her then. No, in the end, he had kept his promise—
The spell was broken when a Ferrari, reeking of burned clutch, screeched to a stop behind the Mercedes. Two European starlets with perfect bodies clad in tight dresses spilled out. Perplexing, but Emma grew dismayed knowing he would appraise them just as he had her. The leggy blondes with bubble breasts spotted him and stopped in their stilettoed tracks, finally recovering enough to giggle loudly in a bid for his attention.
When it wasn’t forthcoming, they pouted, and one “dropped” her lipstick to roll by his feet. Emma gaped as the woman bent down before him, then checked for his reaction.
Between her and Lachlain, she was the only one watching the scene—he’d never taken his gaze from her. But she had the impression that he was well aware of their antics. His eyes bored into hers as if saying, I’m looking at what I want . She shivered.
Having been completely ignored, the two finally gave up and shot Emma venomous looks as they passed. As if he was hers? As if she was keeping him from them? She was a prisoner—more or less! “You can have him, kitties,” she hissed for their ears only. They blanched before scuttling away. She might be a coward against Lore creatures, but with humans she could hold her own in the tabby arena.
Now, how would she fare traveling with a wolf?
Lachlain had watched as Emmaline glided through the lobby, moving too gracefully to truly look human. He’d been struck by how wealthy and coolly composed she appeared—like an aristocrat. One would never imagine her timorous nature, because she seemed to have donned a cloak of confidence.
Then she’d changed.
He didn’t know what caused it, but her gaze turned heated. She gave the impression that she needed a man—and he’d responded. Everything in him responded. But others had, too. Though she seemed unconscious of it, her sensual walk and movements lured every male gaze to her. In mid-conversation, they turned and stared, enthralled. Even the