Rebecca Zanetti: Tamed

He pivoted and blocked her way to gaze down at her stunning face. He’d never wanted a woman more. One night with her was all he asked. “Have you decided? My place tonight?”

She slipped her arm through his in a move as old as time and headed for the door. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

No, it was a truly horrible idea.

They emerged into a chilly night. She shivered in the night air, and he quickly shrugged out of his jacket to drape it around her. The darn leather covered her almost to her knees.

The woman looked small, fragile, and definitely kissable.

He turned and pressed her against the worn brick building, startled yet again by the delicacy of her petite frame. He stood at least a foot and a half taller, but the woman had such a presence he often forgot her stature. Slowly, he slid his hand up to cup her chin. Curiosity and need glimmered in the depths of her mysterious eyes.

Even so, he allowed several seconds to pass in case she wanted to move away.

She didn’t twitch.

Her chin held a delicate stubbornness that tempted him far more than he’d ever admit. Would she still taste like strawberries?

He lowered his head, giving her plenty of time to stop him. His lips met hers, and heat slid through his veins. The rightness of the connection clicked somewhere deep inside him.

Then she sighed, and his head spun.

He pressed harder, his tongue sweeping inside her mouth.

Fire, need, and strawberries became the center of his world. The leash he constantly kept on himself snapped. He stepped into her, his body caging her, his erection brushing against her warmth.

He tangled his hand in her silky hair, tethering her, taking all he could.

She sighed and kissed him back, a soft sound of surrender emerging with her breath.

Fisting her hair, he angled her so he could go deeper, invading her mouth. Possessive and fierce, he wanted all of her.

A car alarm went off blocks away, dragging him back to the present.

The woman might kiss like the devil, but she was a lady, and he wasn’t going to take her the first time on a street corner. So he broke the kiss and slowly released her.

Her perfect blond hair was mussed and her lips swollen from his. Rosiness covered her cheeks, and desire burned bright in her eyes.

He bit back a groan at the need to bury himself in her. Even so, he couldn’t help running his knuckles across the breasts pushed high by the underclothing. The softness almost dropped him to his knees.

She breathed in, her entire body shuddering, a vulnerable look of surprise flashing across her face. “Caleb.”

His body rioted with the need to finish what they’d started. But his brain kicked into gear. One kiss, and reality had slapped him upside the head. He’d never be able to walk away this time, and the last thing he wanted was a mate—even one who couldn’t wear his mark because of the virus. Lily was a sweet, kind, gentle woman who deserved protection. Right now, he was needed on the front lines, peace talks or not.

So he stepped back and zipped the jacket up and over those amazing breasts. “You ever ride a motorcycle, sweetheart?”

Her mouth formed a perfect O as she glanced behind him to the Ducati quietly waiting on the other side of the street. “A motorcycle?”

Lily smoothed her face into calm lines as the helicopter set down in the mountains of Idaho. Five other Black Hawks followed suit, and soon the deserted area was crawling with vampire soldiers. Make that vampire, shifter, and witch soldiers.

She bit back a yawn. After Caleb had driven her home on the bike the previous night, and after the amazing kiss that had all but shocked her with an impossible level of passion, she had gone to bed . . . to toss and turn, and not from her usual nightmares. The ones she was beginning to fear.

The kiss had revved her up beyond belief, and even now, she could still taste him. Spice and male. But sleeping with him would be dangerous to her heart, and she had enough concerns.

Caleb was a soldier who moved around. He didn’t want to settle down and would certainly leave after the peace talks.

Falling for him would just leave her alone and sad.

She moved to open the helicopter door, and the pilot, Jase Kayrs, turned around to flash a grin. “Stay put, Prophet. We’re not secure yet.”

“Don’t be bossy,” she said calmly to her friend, one of the many soldiers she counseled for PTSD.

He rolled his copper-colored eyes, making him seem not quite as dangerous as usual. “I’d like to be included in the peace-party talks, Lily. Can you arrange that?”

Probably not a good idea, considering Jase had been kidnapped and tortured by demons for years. The scar on his handsome face showed the suffering he’d endured, although now he was happily mated and seemed to have found peace. Lily smiled. “Your brother put Caleb in charge of deciding who will attend.”

While the prophets would lead the talks, the king had a say in the proceedings.

Jase eyed her. “My brother listens to you.”

“Maybe.” Lily scooted closer to the door just as it opened.

Caleb grasped her hips and set her on the ground, his warm palms leaving heated imprints on her skin. The scents of pine trees and male surrounded her. “Wear this.” He plopped a hard hat on her head.

She frowned and squinted up at him as one of her dangling earrings caught. “You’re not wearing one.”

“My head is harder than yours.” He held out his hand. “Earrings.”

Frowning, she handed them over, surprised when he drew a box from his back pocket. “For you.”

She blinked. Her heart leaped to her throat. She flipped open the lid to reveal stunning solitaire diamonds. “I don’t understand.”

He shrugged. “I saw them, and they reminded me of you. Beautiful, elegant, and simple. Please wear them.”

She blinked and inserted the diamonds as if in a dream. Heat rose into her face. Was Caleb trying to court her? “Thank you, Caleb.”

He nodded. “I meant to attend the surprise party for your birthday last month but got caught in a fight in Iceland.”

Oh. So they were a birthday present. Even so, he’d spent time choosing them—just for her. “It was no big deal, just a little get-together. But as a prophet, you should spend more time counseling and mediating situations than fighting, don’t you think?”

“Absolutely not. I’m meant to fight, not to compromise.”

“Then why are you here? These are going to be peace talks.” Couldn’t he at least hope for peace? She fingered the solid stone in her ear.

“I’m here to protect the king and Janie in what is sure to be a battle.”

“Not little old me?” she asked with what felt like a flirty smile.

“I’ve told the king that you are too much of a security risk, considering the Kurjans have been after you for years.” His jaw seemed to harden.

“I’m attending the talks—we need to find peace.” The man wasn’t going to keep her from doing her job.

He shook his head. “There will be no peace.”

Sorrow filled Lily for the briefest of moments. How could he live every day and not even think there was a chance for peace?

His gaze swept her from head to toe. “You couldn’t wear jeans even to head into the bowels of the earth?”

She glanced down at her deep green skirt and matching blouse. “This is fine for mine shafts.” They might be heading into the earth, but she was on duty and at work. “You could look more like a prophet.” Though the man looked beyond good.

His faded jeans covered muscled thighs, and the worn T-shirt spread across his broad chest hugged impressive strength. “I’m a soldier, not a prophet.”