Free Grievous (Wanted Men Book 5) by Nancy Haviland Page B

her hair over her head with her forearm, and it fell around her shoulders and down her back, the unintentional eroticism of it pulled his full attention to her.
    Her jaw was set. “Don’t think that because I’m not jumping all over your people breaking into my apartment that I’m okay with it. I hope they were shocked and appalled that I left dirty dishes in the sink. Where are they keeping Loki? I hope his unclipped claws opened someone’s carotid,” she added maliciously.
    He turned away. She wasn’t looking at him, but he was damn sure she was aware of him, and he didn’t want her to know he found her temper rather delightful.
    “He’s enjoying some time in the Hamptons.”
    “Hmm. Speaking of time; do you think you could guestimate how long I’ll be of use to you? Any clue how long this psychotic episode of yours might last? Christmas is a few weeks away, and I haven’t started my shopping yet. And I want to call Miranda. She’s my best friend, and she’ll be beyond freaked out by now.”
    He killed his mild amusement and left his pants open on his hips to snap up his shirt from where he’d tossed it on the floor. His brother wasn’t dead a week, and this girl’s show of attitude was…helping.
    That was unacceptable. The only thing that should currently bring a smile to his face was having Sergei Pivchenko’s dripping heart crushed in his fist. The Russian had attempted to start a war by murdering Lucian’s only family, and until Lucian’s team found him, enjoying anything this wretched life had to offer was blasphemous.
    “I am sure those on your list will appreciate whatever you bring them from your trip to Europe.” His black mood was restored. “Your friend was delivered a message that told her you felt it necessary to comfort me in my time of need, and you would see her soon.”
    “My friends won’t be impressed by gifts from Europe, and Miranda definitely wouldn’t have bought your bullshit. She’s freaking out.” While she unwisely baited him, she stared at the painting that hung between the tall windows.
    “Are you aware of what you are doing right now, Yasmeen?”
    She tipped her nose up at him and exchanged the pillow for the sheet. “I’m not letting you know I’m unhappy. And I’m sure not cuddling after some great sex.” She brought her knees up and laid her head on them with her face turned away.
    He’d insulted her by repeatedly snubbing her need for affection. Or, more accurately, her need to offer him affection. “It is the great sex I’m after. Not the cuddling.” She stiffened as he habitually pulled on the cuffs of his shirt to straighten them. “I feel I should warn you that during your stay, you will be used hard.
    “Oh, yeah?” she drawled without looking at him. “How much will I be expected to endure?”
    “Endure, draga ? That soaked pussy I just fucked into giving me those orgasms makes that a bad word choice.”
    She gave an un-lady-like snort and muttered something about a body’s natural response to stimuli.
    He paused with his zipper halfway up as she completely discounted the unique attraction between them. “Is that what that was?” He nodded, his mouth tightening right along with his chest, and continued dressing. The very idea that she didn’t feel the goddamn pull that was tying him in knots made him see red. “You asked what you will endure? The answer to that would be many more orgasms. I’ll be curious to see how spectacular your ‘body’s natural response to stimuli’ is when I bring in a couple of associates of mine. It should be quite impressive when more than one man is coaxing that response from you, hmm?”
    Her shocked gasp was music to his ears. “No! Lucian!”
    He watched her scramble to clutch the sheet to her front as she tripped her way off the bed. She came to him, her head going from side-to-side, revulsion emanating from her in waves that heated his skin.
    “You can’t do that to me! I lied, you bully. And you