Free Consumed (Dark Protectors) by Rebecca Zanetti Page B

usually.” Someday maybe Maggie would be well enough to fight, but that day hadn’t arrived.
    Katie’s head settled against the back of her chair, and she studied Jordan from half-closed lids. Concentrating on his symmetrical face was a lot better than imagining herself dropping a zillion feet to hit concrete. A slight purple bruise from the fight with Brent covered the right side of Jordan’s jaw, emphasizing strength and muscle. The cords of his neck were all male, so masculine she’d imagined running her mouth along the firmness many times. In fact, she’d like to take a bite right where his prominent jaw met the sweet spot under his ear.
    As if he could read her mind, his eyes flared with heat. “What are you thinking about?”
    “The kiss in my apartment.” The moment hadn’t left her thoughts much. And now she wanted to think about anything but the trail of death she’d left in New Orleans.
    He licked his lips in thought. She fought a groan in response. Desire began to shove fear of flying out of her consciousness.
    The plane leveled off.
    “Yeah. The kiss was probably a mistake.” He met her gaze squarely, his stunning eyes devoid of expression.
    She’d known Jordan most of her life. When he lacked expression, it wasn’t lack of interest. He often made a calculated effort to hide his current thoughts or feelings. Interesting. Her fingers found the clasp of the seat belt, and she freed herself.
    He lifted his chin. “What are you doing?”
    “Relaxing.”
    He settled into his chair. “Kate?” His voice held bite this time. “Have you been sleeping with Lance?”
    The question jerked her head back. How could he think she’d sleep with someone in her squad? She and Lance were friends—the best of friends. The cat had saved her life numerous times, and she kept him safe, too. Jordan had no right to question her about the tiger. “None of your business.”
    “Oh, I think it is,” he said softly. Too softly.
    Temper stretched awake inside her. “Well, I wouldn’t call what we do sleeping . Especially when Baye joins in.”
    Jordan blinked. Then a slow grin spread across his face. “Into ménage now, are you?”
    “Yep.” She lifted her chin. “Especially since Baye always brings bullwhips. I do love a good bullwhip.”
    Jordan threw back his head and laughed. “That’s a good one. Okay. You’ve made your point. I’m sorry for questioning you. I shouldn’t have.”
    She wished he had the right to question her—that he wanted the right. “What about you? Have you been dating anyone?” Her shoulders stiffened for the blow.
    “No.”
    “Why not?” Now her voice lowered to a soft tone.
    His grin hinted at sin. “Dating isn’t as much fun since you’re not there to sabotage me.”
    The breath strangled in her throat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Crap. Had he known? She’d messed with his dates the second she became a teenager, once even spilling ice cream down a panther shifter’s silk dress to make her leave a party.
    “You weren’t exactly subtle.” Jordan grinned again.
    “Well,” Katie sniffed, “you’ve had terrible taste in women, anyway.”
    His gaze swept her, head to foot, leaving a flash of awareness along every nerve. “I’d say my taste has improved.”
    Heat filled her cheeks. Before she could respond, lightning cracked. The plane bumped, shimmying to the side. Panic prickled the skin on her neck. She clutched her nails into the leather armrests, and the muscles in her legs tightened until becoming painful.
    Jordan leaned forward, tugging her hands free. “You’re okay. Turbulence is normal and no big deal.” His thumbs caressed her knuckles in soothing circles.
    Her eyes widened, and she shook her head.
    The craft lurched again.
    Darn it. Many people took sedatives to fly. She should’ve gotten a prescription. Well, she would’ve if she’d had any warning she’d be flying. The plane dipped, quickly righting. A soft whimper escaped