Free Mine by Brenda Huber

fight went right out of her.
    “Oh, hell…”
    She gaped at him in astonishment, and fell silent. So much for her cool composure.
    Amused but wise enough not to let it show, Cole tucked away his wry smirk as he carried her back inside his den and kicked the door closed behind him. He lowered her to the sofa, and then strode over to the desk, bending down to remove two cans of Danny’s beer from the mini bar. He hurried back to her side, dropping onto the coffee table directly in front of her.
    Cole set the cans on the table beside him and turned his attention to her ankle. With infinite care, he skimmed his fingers down the silky skin of her calf, lifting it as he went, until he held her foot cradled in his lap. She was helpless but to stare. When he loosened the ankle strap on her shoe and slipped it from her foot, she finally reacted.
    She blinked at him, pushing in vain at his hands. “Please, don’t do that, just let me—”
    “Can you move it?” His fingers trailed over her delicate skin, his eyes probing for any abnormal swelling. Damn, she has nice ankles.
    And trim calves. And sexy knees. And a gorgeous …
    By the gods, he was starting to sound like the proverbial big bad wolf. Zack would be so proud.
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    Cole stifled a snort of self-disgust.
    She flexed her foot, shifting her ankle this way and that, testing her range of motion. “I think it’s just a mild sprain. You can let me go now. I should go—”
    Her words ended on a sharp hiss as Cole laid the icy cold cans against the sides of her ankle.
    She gritted her teeth, but she wasn’t able to stand it for more than a moment or two, however, and made no bones about telling him so.
    “The cans are too hard, that hurts worse than the sprain. I’ll be fine, I swear,” she insisted.
    “Just let me…”
    The cans weren’t the only thing that was too hard. He’d be willing to bet that right now his pain was just as sharp as hers was. He cut her off with a mere look. Removing the cans from her ankle, he popped the top on one, and thrust the can into her hands before she could protest.
    “Here,” he offered with a supercilious smile.
    “You look like you could use it.” He set the other can down and shifted her foot to the table beside the unopened beer. “Sit tight.”
    He went back to the mini bar and pulled a small tray of ice from the machine. Cole glanced about the room for a moment, searching for something to pour the ice in. Giving a slight shrug, he grasped the hem of his shirt and whipped it over his head. Her sharply indrawn breath pricked his ears, snaring his attention.
    From beneath lowered lashes, he considered her with no small amount of male satisfaction. Her eyes, locked on his body, rounded owlishly, and her mouth had fallen open. The sound of her breath shuddering in and out, and the stuttering of her heartbeat, kicked his already raging desire back into high gear.
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    Not interested, my ass, he could have crowed aloud.
    Grinning like a cock in the henhouse, he laid his shirt flat on the desk and twisted the ice tray above it, pouring the ice into a neat little pile.
    Tossing the tray aside, he gathered the edges of his shirt up, forming a small pouch.
    Cole ran his tongue over his teeth and, once assured his fangs had receded…for the most part, at least…he turned a wide grin in her direction.
    His reward was the sharp snap of her teeth and a fierce scowl. The challenge was irresistible.
    Working relationship or not, Mortal or not, he’d developed a craving…for her. One, it seemed, that was determined to grow ravenously until it was fed.
    This time, rather than sitting on the table, he dropped to the sofa at her side. Cole took her by surprise when he scooped both her legs up and drew them across his lap, leaving her no choice but to turn sideways on the sofa to face him—or risk her skirt riding farther up her thighs. His wicked grin hinted that might have been his plan all along.
    Leaning close,