Free Rhyannon Byrd - Primal Instinct 05 by Touch of Surrender Page B

next.
    Being his father’s son simply closed the deal.
    Which meant that nothing was going to happen between
him and this woman.
    Not now. Not ever.
    His beast growled in reaction to the familiar phrase,
the low, visceral sound rumbling through Kierland’s body like a fault line
breaking open in the ground.
    The problem, he’d finally concluded at about 3:00 a.m.
that morning, when he’d been tossing and turning in the hotel’s bed, was that
he’d never gotten Morgan Cantrell out of his system. He might hate the choices
she’d made in her life, but the wolf still craved her, wanting a taste of what
it’d never had. Like a festering wound, he still carried the hunger pangs of a
gnawing, lingering need that had never been satisfied.
    Then maybe it’s time to lance the wound, and bleed her
out of our systems.
    He tensed in reaction to the wolf’s treacherous words,
because he knew damn well what his beast was suggesting. And he didn’t trust
it. The animal had always been too possessive of Morgan. It knew how he
thought, how to manipulate him. It would fight dirty to get what it wanted. It
had no morals, driven solely by its primal, animal instincts.
    Keep thinking we’re different, but what I am, you are,
as well. Same wants. Same hungers. Same needs.
    Kierland’s hand curled into a fist on the tabletop
until the veins beneath his skin stood out in stark relief, but he took a deep
breath, forcing a look of bored indifference to his face as Morgan approached,
unwilling to give anything away.
    She wore another pair of hip-hugging jeans with her
boots, but her sweater this time was a soft gray that nearly matched her eyes.
The thick curtain of her dark hair was straight, falling like silk over the
feminine curve of her shoulders, the bangs making her look too young…too
innocent. She didn’t wear any makeup except for a berry-colored gloss on her
full mouth, but then she didn’t need any.
    The cake, as Kellan would have said, was already
mouthwatering. It didn’t need any icing.
    Morgan murmured a quiet greeting and took the seat
across from him. “Any news this morning?” she asked, reaching for her linen
napkin. There was a nervous edge to her movements, though he could tell she was
trying hard to hide it.
    “I had a call from Seth. He’s leaving England and
heading back to the States.”
    Seth McConnell was a former Lieutenant Colonel in the
Collective Army, and as such, he should have been their enemy. Fate, however,
had other plans, and in an ironic twist, Seth was now fighting alongside the
Watchmen and the Merrick in their war against the Casus. The disillusioned
officer had broken ranks with the Collective when he had learned that his
commanding officers had made a deal with the Casus and their allies, causing
him to question the very beliefs that the Army had been founded on. Although
the others in Kierland’s unit had been fully prepared to despise the man who
had once hunted those like them, Seth, who looked more like a California surfer
than a soldier, had turned out to be a hard man to hate, his smile too easy and
warm…and his regret for his past mistakes too genuine.
    The last time Kierland had seen him, the shadows under
Seth’s dark green eyes had been proof that the guy was running as ragged as the
rest of them. Before coming to Harrow House for a brief visit, the former
Collective officer had been doing his best to find Westmore these past weeks,
as well as to uncover whatever information he could about the whereabouts of
Chloe Harcourt. But so far, Ross Westmore had done an excellent job of covering
his tracks and Seth, along with the soldiers who’d remained loyal to him from
his Collective unit, hadn’t been able to get their hands on any useful
information. Until now.
    “Why is he going back?” she asked.
    Kierland kept his voice low as he explained. “Seems
his men have scored a bit of a coup. Finally got their hands on one of the
high-ranking Collective officers who’s been