Free A WILDer Kind of Love by Angel Payne Page A

shake his hand? Hell . She was the girl who’d read every research book on dungeon etiquette, right? But now she really did feel like the girl at the prom with toilet paper attached to her heel.
    “Hi,” she finally managed. “I—I mean hello. Hello, Sir . I—I mean—”
    If she really had something to say after that, it would’ve disappeared as soon as he lifted her hand between both of his. Shivers . Everywhere. Her blood. Her skin. And yes, even in the deepest parts of her most intimate tunnel. His skin was so firm and warm, his grip a steady command, his eyes still impossible to read. That fact alone brought even more of the illicit tremors…
    He stepped closer, peering at her harder, as if trying to figure her out more fully. “Ssshhh. Breathe, red.”
    Red. Though she liked playing up the unique color of her hair, she always cringed when someone used the too-typical nickname. But on his lips, it was transformed into something new. Magical.
    “Breathe. Right. Okay… right. God. I am so sorry. You must think I’m so—” She injected a weak laugh. “I’m normally better at the whole stringing-a-sentence-together thing, I promise.”
    Why was she blowing this so badly? And why did he make it worse with his disarming grin and his tightening hold? And the intensity of his nearness. And the potency of his scent. How could the combination of Scotch and dust suddenly smell so incredible?
    “Why are you sorry? I’m the one who intruded.”
    “Oh, yeah. ‘Intruded.’” She blew a pseudo raspberry. “Because there was so much going on here in my corner to intrude on.”
    “There would’ve been.”
    His mutter edged so close to an animal’s timbre, she shivered a little. Tess had heard enough radio spy chatter over the years to know the small disc on his neck was a voice distorter of some sort—but instead of raising her wariness, it only added to his allure. A lot.
    Too much.
    Her pulse thrummed, a current strange yet wonderful.
    Too fast .
    The conflict hastened to her reckless heartbeat, especially as he repeated, “Oh, yeah. You were going to have a waiting line tonight, I can guarantee it. Then I would’ve had to bounce a few skulls together.”
    “Why?” She knew how stupid it sounded. The possessive snarl beneath his words spoke enough meaning for anyone to figure out—except, perhaps, her. The “protective” thing was usually her gig, a default when one was looking out for sisters who were “the pretty one” and “the smart ass.” Grasping the concept that anyone wanted to look after her in the same way…
    Weird. Very weird.
    But so nice.
    Really nice.
    Still, she braced herself for his teasing chuckle. Maybe some sarcastic quip at what a “silly subbie” she was for not comprehending his intent.
    Once more, the man turned her expectations sideways. No. Fully upside down. Her senses careened as he released a hand, lifting it to her jaw, yanking up her face to the focus of his fathomless gaze. “Why?” he repeated. “Because I’m pretty well set on having you all to myself tonight, rose.” His fingers pressed in. “Unless you aren’t interested in what you see?”
    She laughed. She couldn’t help herself. “You’re kidding, right?”
    “At the risk of being trite, do I look like I’m kidding?”
    “At the risk of being obnoxious, do I look like a nun? Because that’s the only situation where I can imagine you being turned down, Sir Sexy.”
    Air pushed past his smirk. His thick stubble disguised the exact edges of his lips but the flash of his teeth briefly showed her they were curved and lush…and maybe a little wicked.
    Wicked. Right behind daunting on what she’d come here looking for.
    “I ought to stamp your ass with my palm for that cheek, little rose. But I don’t even know your name yet.”
    She couldn’t help grinning. If “cheek” earned her comments like that, she was tempted to change her name to Cheeky .
    “Odette.” She supplied the name she’d