Free To Mate an Assassin: The Lost Alphars Series, Book 1 by Ceri Grenelle Page B

me the Alphar, Riddan, had been killed and replaced.”
    “You didn’t know?”
    “I live on the fringes of society. No, I did not know,” she said, annoyed at his surprised tone. She didn’t like to watch TV and any magazine or news article about Were culture was usually written by humans who had some sort of fetish and sensationalized the culture to the extreme. She picked up a remaining piece of pancake with her hand just to be contrary. Her control over her emotions was frighteningly fragile around this man, which only provided yet another reason to get as far the hell away from him as soon as possible.
    “The fringes?” he asked, tightening his lips to keep from smiling. She did not care what he thought of her life.
    “Yes,” she said indignantly. “In a cabin as a matter of fact.”
    “You live in a cabin?” He didn’t even try to hold back his smile as he mocked her, the bastard.
    “A cabin in the mountains. It’s a very nice cabin.”
    “Do you greet the animals in the morning and sing a jaunty tune while sweeping your quaint front porch?”
    Her eyes narrowed. “How are your balls, Alphar? Needing another kick?”
    “Would you like to check on them yourself?” he asked, with an unbearably handsome and mischievous grin. Cocky bastard.
    “I’ll pass, Alphar.”
    He leaned towards her, his hand resting near her hip. She could have sworn she felt the heat from his hand through the comforter. She wanted to feel him skin to skin. “Kerrick.”
    “What?” she asked, unwilling to back down from his stare.
    “Call me Kerrick. Will you tell me your name, please?”
    “I’m sure if you looked through Riddan’s files you would find it,” she said, focusing on the nearly empty food tray, trying to remember all the rules her trainers had drilled into her about emotions and how completely irrelevant they were in her line of work.
    “I’d like you to tell me.” He placed his hand under her chin, angling her face until her eyes were on his. Oh, his eyes were endless pools of darkness and power, pulling her in like a tractor beam.
    “Cymbeline Kendall,” she whispered, unable to speak up, caught in his sensual trap.
    “Lovely.” His thumb caught her bottom lip and tugged for half a second. She wanted to moan and wrap her arms around his thick neck, let him cradle her body as she writhed against him, taking his mouth in a kiss that could be nothing but a claiming. He was hers.
    What was she doing?
    Cymbeline shook herself out of it, removed his hand from her face, and returned to their prior conversation, determined to just ignore every thought passing through her brain that involved them getting naked and making better use of the bed. “How did you not know about me? And if you did not know about me, then who has been sending me assignments for the past few years?”
    “That is something we’re going to find out,” he said, sitting back. She was in no way fooled he had given up on his pursuit, but was thankful to have her personal space back for the time being.
    “Brilliant idea.” Sarcasm was a wonderful method of keeping walls between one’s self and others.
    “Thank you.”
    “Now uncuff me so I may assist you in this endeavor.”
    Yes, uncuff and free me, Alphar, so I can kick you in the balls again for being so presumptuous. Or maybe kiss you. I’ll decide later.
    “Why?” he asked, tilting his head in a familiar wolfish gesture.
    “Just uncuff me.”
    “I don’t know…I like you cuffed to the bed.”
    “I bet that’s how you like all your women,” she mumbled but he ignored her.
    “It wasn’t my idea to cuff you. You attacked my people, and even though you’ve been suspiciously forthcoming with all the information about yourself, I can’t guarantee you aren’t here as an enemy.”
    “I work for you, damn it. I am not an enemy.”
    “Until yesterday I didn’t know Incendiaries existed. All I knew was there was a crazy woman attacking my guards. Something I don’t take