Chapters (42)
- TITLE PAGE
- COPYRIGHT PAGE
- DEDICATION PAGE
- CONTENTS
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR
All the tension in my body evaporated. I slid my arms around his waist and pressed my head to his chest, where his heart beat solidly beneath my ear. It was the feeling, the sound, the scent that made me feel strong. No one else in the entire world could do this for me. In fact, I shied away from most other people, hating to be touched after so many years of not having a choice about it. But Malachi … was different. He let me choose, he sought permission, he waited for me, he gave me control. And when I showed him I was ready, he was there. He wrapped his arms around me, his hand skimming up my back and settling in my hair. The feel of it was like this glowing ball of light at the heart of me, sending waves of honey warmth along my limbs.
“You are an asset to me,” I said. “And you did protect me, okay? But I want to protect you, too, which means we have to be careful.”
“Agreed.” He bowed his head and kissed my temple. “Lela, anger is something I’ve worked to master for many years, and tonight I was nearly its slave again. If not for you, I might have done something I would have regretted always. Thank you.”
His lips were on mine when the front door swung open, momentarily blinding me with the light from the entryway.
“This looks like a hell of a lot of fun,” said an unfamiliar voice. “Can I have a turn with her when you’re done?”
THREE
THREE
MALACHI DREW A KNIFE and shoved me behind the solid wall of his body.
“I’m pretty sure we’re on the same side,” said the voice. The porch light above us clicked on. “Put that away.”
I jerked myself away from Malachi and stepped around him. Standing in the doorway was a guy about our age. He had messy pale-blond hair and dark-blue, slightly bloodshot eyes. His face was masculine but kind of rounded at the edges, like he was just growing into his looks. But his body was already there—I could see through his T-shirt that he was packing a hell of a lot of muscle. He seemed completely relaxed about the fact that Malachi had a knife pointed at his throat.
“Tell me who you are and what you’re doing in my house, please,” said Malachi. He always sounded so calm when he was about to hurt someone.
The blond guy leaned away from the knife and held out his hand. “Jim. I’ve been assigned to this unit. You are?”
Malachi lowered the knife but did not shake Jim’s hand. “Malachi.”
Jim looked down at his palm and then wiped it on his jeans. “You in command?”
“No.” Malachi looked down at me. “She is.”