A. Arthur: Passion's Prey

He pushed her through the window first, his palms giving her ass a powerful shove that most likely had her falling into the alley face-first. She definitely would not be happy about that. Going through the window next, X hit the ground then felt her kick at his side and cursed once more.

“Don’t put your hands on me again!” she yelled.

Oh, he was definitely going to put his hands on her again, and soon. But right now he needed to get them out of here.

He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her down the alley to where his black Ford F-150 SVT Raptor was parked. Seth appeared out of nowhere, yanking open the back door after X had found his keys and hit the automatic entrance button.

“Where the hell have you been?” X growled at the younger shifter.

“Giving you two some space” was his reply, accompanied by a smirk that X didn’t appreciate.

“Give Eli a call and let him know Rogues are in the area. Tell him I want the area canvassed and guards on a scheduled watch for the next few blocks,” X said as he opened the driver’s-side door.

His personal guard, the one he hated like hell having, Zachary Villareal, looked at him questioningly. Zach was pure Brazilian with a dark sunburned complexion and thick eyebrows. His hair was shaved crew-cut-style, and his specialty was weaponry. If there was a weapon out there that could shoot a missile out of the sky on the other side of the world in the midst of a hurricane, Zach knew about it. Hell, he’d probably invented it.

“What’s doing?” Zach asked him.

“I’m driving. You stay here and find out which Rogues are in residence and report back to me.”

“I’m supposed to stay with you,” Zach insisted. “FL’s orders.”

He didn’t have to add the last sentence because X didn’t care. He was the commanding officer in this situation so Zach was going to listen to him. X would deal with Rome’s wrath later. Besides, he didn’t want anyone to know where he was taking Caprise.

“Just get the hell out of my truck. I’ll deal with the FL. I want to hear from you in the next hour with names,” he told Zach as the shadow finally relinquished the driver’s seat and X slipped inside the truck.

Zach nodded just as Caprise slapped her palms against the back windows. The doors had been locked the moment she was put inside. As trained guards both Seth and Zach knew the drill; besides, they both also knew Caprise. She was hell on wheels—the shadow hellion, as they’d taken to calling her when neither X, Nick, nor Rome was around. For the most part all the shadows at Havenway thought she should be locked away on a daily basis.

Tonight, X figured, he’d be giving them all a welcome reprieve.

“Stop banging on my windows,” he told her as he backed out of the alley.

“You’re a jerk,” she spat.

X thought a minute before responding. He didn’t blame her; he wanted to curse and roar over his actions in her dressing room as well. He’d lost control. And X never lost control. If there was one thing he’d learned in all his years, it was to always remain in command of the situation. It was deadly not to. Yet with Caprise … it wouldn’t happen again, he vowed.

Instead he replied lightly, “Funny, you weren’t saying that about fifteen minutes ago.”

“I wasn’t being kidnapped fifteen minutes ago,” she shot back.

He caught her eye in the rearview mirror and stared. There was more he wanted to say, but his body was too busy warring with his mind for that coveted control he knew he possessed.

She didn’t break eye contact. That would be too submissive for Caprise. No, she would meet him round for round, blow for blow, whether it be a verbal battle or a sexual one. X admired that about her, even though he was sure she didn’t know that.

She didn’t want to be with him, not a second longer. Giving in was a temptation, one that had been taunting her for weeks. She’d imagined how good a lover Xavier would be—because she’d known right off the bat he would be good. Something about his thick build, his muscled body, and that fuck-you attitude he wore like one of his tattoos had told her sex would just be another one of those things he did amazingly well.

And her intuition hadn’t been wrong. He’d been hard and fast and potent, all the components she loved when it came to releasing her own sexual frustration.

For some women it was about candlelight and roses. For Caprise, who had learned long ago that romance was definitely for the birds, it was all about instant gratification. X had given her just that. Her release had come like a bullet out of the air, fierce and deadly as it hit her head-on. Her body had trembled and shook with pleasure and then it was over. Simple as that. His high-handed treatment later was over-the-top and she planned to show him that she wasn’t the type of female to tolerate such actions. But she hadn’t had the chance. He’d thrown her through a damn window then had her stuffed in the back of this humongous truck—which by the way fit X’s big bad attitude to a T.

She wanted to jump out and return to Havenway, but that was most likely suicidal considering how fast he was driving.

“You always kidnap women after sex?” she asked, mainly because she’d begun to calm down and accept that he’d probably saved them from a lethal attack. She sat back against the seat and looked out the tinted windows at the evening streets of DC.

“You always ignore the scent of your enemy planning a sneak attack?” was his comeback. It figured it was another question instead of an answer, the bastard.

“I work in a strip joint, there’re a lot of stenches going around in there. Besides, I don’t have any enemies that would want to attack me.” There was an air of untruth to her words, but she ignored that little tidbit of information.

“There were Rogues in that place. Is that normal? Do you know any of them? Since you work there and all.”

He could be snide and ignorant and a pompous ass. But he was a damn good fighter. Caprise knew this because Rome would never have made him second-in-command if he wasn’t. She knew they were friends, had been since they were younger, along with her older brother, Nick, but Rome was a top-notch leader who expected only the best from his team. If X was a part of that team, a close part, it meant he had to be the best of the best.

If there were Rogues in the club, X could have taken them, Caprise didn’t doubt. So why did he run instead?

“You aren’t afraid of the Rogues, are you, Xavier?”

She knew her voice was taunting, had meant it to be just that. But she’d also wanted a real answer. She wanted to know what ruffled his feathers—the fierce but contained FBI agent and shifter warrior. What was he hiding behind that persona he so desperately wanted everyone to believe?

But he didn’t answer. She should have expected that. When he took the next corner with even more speed and she slid along the backseat because fastening her seat belt hadn’t occurred to her, Caprise cursed.

“I’m not afraid of anything,” he answered finally. His voice tight, his gaze straight ahead, shoulders squared.

He wasn’t lying. Fear wasn’t a part of X’s makeup, that she knew for a fact. Still, Caprise couldn’t shake the thought that there was much more to this shifter than anybody knew. At any rate, it wasn’t her job to find out.

“I don’t scent anything or anyone.” It was an admission, one she wasn’t sure why she’d made. She’d come back to DC to take control of her life, but lately she’d been doing and saying a lot of things she wasn’t quite sure of.

“Why is that?”

The interior of the truck had developed a chill, and Caprise shivered. She hated being cold; it made her feel isolated, alone, vulnerable, as she had been all those years ago in the Gungi. In her mind there was a slight debate on whether or not she should answer him, then finally she figured what the hell. “Because I’m a human.”