Linda Thomas-Sundstrom - Immortal Redeemed

“Maybe you should go,” she suggested to the man beside her.

“With or without you?” he asked, as if he possessed the ability to read her mind and knew she didn’t really want to be at this crime scene, now that she was. Maybe he sensed she was too tired to handle anything more, including another cop’s biased queries about her condition and her ride.

McKenna also had an uncanny feeling that her rescuer might be reluctant to leave her, and the idea produced a thrill.

“Back to the hospital?” he asked. “Someplace where we can call a cab?”

McKenna bit her lip to keep from reciting her address out loud. In her mind’s eye, she pictured the black jacket slipping off this guy’s broad shoulders. She could almost feel the texture of his golden skin beneath her hands, and imagine the savage way she’d go for his pants.

Those brazen, totally unacceptable images scattered when another cop called out, “Randall, is that you?” He shone a flashlight in her direction.

She and her leather-clad knight turned their heads toward the young cop at the same time.

“Yeah,” she called back. “Just checking things out for old times’ sake.”

Lowering her voice, McKenna whispered, “Hospital,” willing her rescuer to take her away without further delay or remarking about her wishy-washy mental state. After all, he’d mentioned waiting for someone near the hospital. Quite possibly she’d been an unwelcome kink in his timeline, and he’d be glad to get back to whomever he’d been waiting for.

The streak of jealousy that came with the idea of this guy belonging to another woman was fierce and unexpected, arriving with the force of a sucker punch. Imagining some other woman’s arms around his waist, inhaling the same musky maleness she’d inexplicably begun to desire, made her hot under the collar.

What if that other woman were to tug that zipper down slowly, inch by inch, to expose what waited to be discovered by a worthy mouth or hand? Trace the pattern of that rolling black tattoo on his neck with her tongue?

Damn it!

Several more choice words slipped out of her mouth before the guy said a gravelly “Hold tight,” revved the bike’s engine and lifted his feet.

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” McKenna muttered as the night wind again assailed her and the yellow crime tape disappeared behind them.

* * *

While he might never have imagined it, Kellan now found that he could be persuaded to wait a little longer to discover the extent of this woman’s secrets. Not long. Just enough time to explore the hills and valleys of her beautiful body and indulge in some monumental lovemaking.

He sensed now that she might permit that kind of intimacy. As an experiment, he decided to let go of his own wishes and find out.

“Second left,” his passenger directed in a hoarse, weary voice that also held a hint of invitation.

Kellan took another corner, knowing that turning where she indicated would eventually circle them back to the yellow tape and whomever she had decided not to see there just two minutes ago.

Change of heart?

Go with the gut?

To hell with instinct?

Was she back to considering him a threat?

“Stop,” she directed after they had gone two more blocks, maybe as a test to see if he would do as she asked.

Kellan pulled over, planted his boots, waited to see what she’d do next and what she expected.

“Thanks,” she muttered, loosening her hold on him slightly.

“My pleasure.”

They were parked in front of an old commercial building that was six stories high and made of brick covered over with a dark coat of paint. Lights glowed in the third-and fifth-story windows. Weak overhead lanterns illuminated the entrance and its large metal door.

Kellan turned to look at his passenger. “You live here?”

“Yes. I won’t be asking you in, though, for obvious reasons.”

“Obvious reasons,” Kellan repeated, nodding his head. “Completely understandable. Would you like me to walk you to your door?”

“I don’t think so. You’re too...”

She had a habit of not finishing her sentences. And they were about to return to the previous conversation dealing with what she might think of him.

“I’m too terrifying,” he supplied, filling in the blanks. “I’m an unknown. As I said earlier, I get that. You don’t know me, and vice versa. So, off you go. I can wait here until you get inside, and then I’ll be on my way.”

She didn’t move. Either she wasn’t physically able to hurry, or she was having second thoughts about leaving him.

“Okay, then.” Kellan shut off the engine and climbed off the bike. He took hold of her elbow, absorbing the shocks of electricity accompanying the touch.

Christ, if she affected him so greatly, there definitely had to be more to this connection than merely a male-female vibe. And since he hadn’t encouraged this latest round of compliance, the attraction seemed to be mutual.

“You’re different,” she said, studying him intently and in the way he’d want her to look at him once they were joined at the hips. A vision of entwining legs and limbs seared itself into his mind. Kellan shook his head to scatter the image.

“Different, when compared to what?” he asked.

“Everyone else.”

If you only knew.

“Should I take that as a compliment?” he asked.

“Actually, I’m not sure it was one.”

Smiling, Kellan let go of her arm and held both of his hands up in a gesture indicating he’d back off. “Then I will say good-night from here.”

“Yes. From here,” she agreed without moving or taking the fire in her gaze down a notch.

“I’m not sure what you want,” he confessed after another minute of silence passed. Though he had a good enough idea. Chances were decent that she truly wanted him as badly as he wanted her and this fragile-looking woman had an edge he hadn’t yet fully witnessed. She might even crave danger, when he was danger personified.

Slowly, carefully, he helped her off the bike and took hold of the collar of her coat. This time when she stumbled close, he tilted her head back with his finger, grinned wickedly when her eyes met his and dared to rest his mouth lightly on hers.

He waited for the slap that didn’t come before applying more pressure. This wasn’t a real kiss—more like a test of wills and a bargain between them that had finally been exposed.

Her participation in the kiss would be a green light and would shatter any remaining roadblocks leading to her apartment. If she didn’t kiss him back, he’d have to regroup.

Ah, but her mouth was exactly as he had imagined it would be. Her soft, supple, wind-chilled lips tasted like mint toothpaste. They trembled slightly. Her eyes were closed.

“What are you thinking?” Kellan asked her silently. “Who am I to you?”

He waited, impatient, hopeful, until the lips beneath his finally parted and her warm breath seeped into his mouth.

Chapter 4

McKenna felt herself losing ground in a multitude of battles. Between her body and her mind. Between her principles of right and wrong. And between the possibility of falling into a dangerous situation that might lead to an experience of the sublime.

She was under this guy’s spell. His mouth was an inferno, and she craved its warmth. He was an enigma, a face without a name, and though she was taking a chance, she’d been well trained in taking care of herself.

There was a nine-millimeter Glock in her nightstand and a revolver in a desk drawer by the front door. Her apartment was alarmed, armed with panic-button-type security. It was all there thanks to the bullet that seemed to have hit her in another lifetime, and the long recovery she’d endured.