Free Blood Mate: A Paranormal Romance by Natalie Kristen

light
came on at the back of the house, and he smiled indulgently as he
imagined the domestic scene in the house.
    Bryn must be in the kitchen,
heating up her supper. He imagined her moving around the house,
fixing herself a drink, eating at the kitchen table, chatting with
her grandmother. He knew that Bryn's parents had passed away when
she was just a toddler and she lived with her grandmother. Her
grandmother was human. Bryn wasn't a natural-born vampire. She was
turned when she was seventeen.
    She was so young.
    While he, at the ripe old age
of thirty-six, was too jaded and so scarred.
    She should just give up on him
and forget him.
    But the trouble was, he
couldn't give her up. She was his. And he protected what was his
with his life, with a vengeance.
    Jett raised his face to the
moon and closed his eyes. He would deny himself, to protect her.

     

     

CHAPTER
ELEVEN

    Bryn locked the door behind
her and pressed her back against it. She closed her eyes, taking in
painful, shaky breaths. But with every breath she took, his scent
burned into her lungs, flooding her mind with memories and scorching,
erotic images.
    Jett Riley, her boss, her
bane.
    Her mate.
    She should hate him.
    But she couldn't. So she did
the next best thing she could. She ignored him.
    Or rather, she pretended to
herself that she was ignoring him.
    Truth was, she couldn't ignore
him, no matter how hard she tried. She was acutely, achingly aware
of him. His scent, his presence, his smile. Everything about him
awakened her senses and her crazed libido. He was devilishly,
devastatingly handsome, with his intense gray-green eyes and sinfully
muscled body. His sandy hair was surprisingly soft under her
fingers, and the memory of his hard, tanned body against hers made
her shiver and clench her muscles.
    He was hot, and cold. Hungry,
and hurtful.
    He was hers. Not!
    He was downright infuriating!
    After that night in his
office, she had made it a point to avoid him. She kept her contact
and conversations with him to a minimum. She simply threw herself
into her investigation work. She worked long hours with Scott and
met up frequently with Levi and Jeanette to compare notes. She was
determined to crack the case. But they just couldn't seem to catch a
break.
    They had interviewed so many
humans and paranormals, witnesses, neighbors, friends and families of
the slain Enforcers, but nobody could tell them anything useful.
There was a lot of information, but nothing that pointed them to the
identity of the killers.
    Work kept her busy and
occupied. For a few nights, she had actually managed to keep Jett
out of her mind, out of her thoughts.
    She was determined to forget
him.
    Fake it till you make it.
    Just keep pretending that he
didn't affect her so. Keeping acting like she didn't feel anything
for him, until she could really stop feeling and caring.
    She could do it.
    Almost.
    Why the hell did he have to
follow her home tonight? She had been doing so well, pretending that
he didn't exist and that they had never had that one scorching,
unforgettable night together. He had ruined everything. The moment
she walked out of the PAC Headquarters, she had gasped at the sound
of his unmistakable footfall and the scent of his worry and hunger
for her. It had taken every ounce of willpower for her to keep
walking and not turn around.
    She had come so far. She had
made it home. She would not weaken now.
    Bryn pushed away from the
door, directing her feet stoically to the kitchen when what she
really wanted to do was scuttle to the window and peek out at him.
No, she would not risk her heart and her sanity. If she looked out
the window and saw him standing there, she would unlock the door and
bolt across the street to him.
    He was a Bryn magnet.
Resistance was futile, but she would fight the pull. Put off the
heartbreak for as long as possible.
    Bryn flicked on the kitchen
light and saw a note on the table. “Blood pie in the fridge.”
    “ Oh, Nana,” Bryn
sighed