Free Veiled Target (A Veilers Novel) by Robin Bielman Page A

be.
    Could it?
    “You’re not scared,” he said, running a hand through his hair.
    “I don’t scare easily.” Why oh why did he have to stir something warm and hopeful inside her?
    He took a few steps closer before reaching out and wiping a drop of perspiration from her forehead with the pad of his thumb. “Glad to hear it.”
    She batted his hand away, terrified that she didn’t hate wolfen as much as she used to. “Keep your hands to your—”
    He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her snug against his body. The contact sent tingles she should not be feeling straight to between her legs. Before she could protest—not that she really wanted to—he dropped them both to the floor.
    Something smelling worse than a skunk-spray-cow-dung cocktail flew past their heads and landed with a splat on the wall behind them. Hugh’s arms cushioned their fall so her backside landed gently on the concrete floor. His rock hard body remained over hers and she tried not to think about her breasts pressed against his chest.
    “These hands come in handy sometimes. You might want to remember that.”
    He jumped to his feet and extended one of those very fine hands to help her up.
    She took it with secret gratitude. The instant she was vertical again, another stink bomb whizzed past them, sparing her from saying thank you. “What is that ?”
    “Poison to you, a pain in the ass to me. Let’s go.” He released her and ran in between the heavy-duty shelving units lining the warehouse.
    She followed right on his heels. “I guess the Banoth found a way in.”
    “Yeah, and it won’t stop until it sticks its fangs into one of us.”
    “Us? I think it’s after you, big guy. I’m hardly the type to interest a big hairy beast like that. You must have ticked off its mother or something.” She felt a grin flank her face. Her juices were flowing, her body was pumped. Hands down, this was one of the best romps she’d had in a long time.
    A piercing cry—like fingers scraping on chalkboard magnified times ten—echoed through the warehouse. The noise sent a chill over her lips and down the back of her legs, eliminating some of the excitement pumping through her veins.
    “That doesn’t sound good,” she said as they turned down another aisle, this one darker and narrower.
    Hugh slowed and then stopped, allowing a few seconds to pass before he spoke. “It means there’s more than one of them.”
    “Don’t tell me they travel in pairs.”
    “Okay. I won’t tell you.”
    He stood only inches away, his nearness good and bad. She could see the wheels turning in his head, and noticed he seemed to be assessing the situation like he was clairvoyant. Which he kind of was.
    “So with these killer senses of yours, you can smell and hear him even though we can’t see him?” She relaxed against the shelf, glad for the chance to catch her breath, and really happy to be on an adventure.
    Her mind spun when he hesitated to answer. She could tell from the look on his handsome face that he was more concerned for her than himself. The regard caused something to shift inside her, like a vine twisting its way through her veins, awakening nerve endings she’d shut off. But feelings were something she couldn’t afford. She had a job to do. And if she discovered information about Hugh that justified his elimination, she’d follow through. Her life depended on it.
    “Pretty much.” Something flashed in his blue eyes and he quickly looked away.
    “Can you control your shifting?” She told herself to guard the things going on inside her head more carefully.
    “Yes.”
    “Are you thinking about shifting right now?”
    “Yes.”
    “Wanna jump off a bridge?”
    “Ye—” His gaze jumped back to hers.
    She smiled. “Just checking to see if you were listening. How about we grab a burger and fries when this over?”
    He tiptoed closer. Her senses not too shabby either, she could feel the heat radiating off him, smell his masculine scent