He turned and she allowed her hand to trail on his warm skin as he did so. When he faced her, she pressed her palm to his muscular chest and looked up at him, letting her arousal shine in her eyes.

“Like I said…gorgeous,” she murmured.

A small smile quirked the corners of his mouth. “That’s supposed to be my line.”

“Women’s lib. Happened decades ago. What other abilities do you have?”

“I have some unpredictable PSI and basic empathic skills.”

“Empathy, huh? What are you picking up from me right now?”

He took her hand and used it to pull her a step closer to him. That brought her flush up against his magnificent body. The look in his eyes dried her tongue as he slid a hand to the nape of her neck and lowered his head toward hers. “That you’re attracted to me.”

Her lips curved into a confident smile. “Likewise, I’m sure, Mr. Monahan.”

The first touch of his lips on hers was a bare tasting, just a brush. Unlike the kiss at Gribben, this one was soft and undemanding. It made her legs feel weak. It promised that if she trusted her body to him, he would take good care of it. Very good care.

He walked her backward a step, so the back of her thighs hit the worktable in the center of the room. The table’s feet made a squeaking noise on the floor as they bumped it backward an inch.

She sat down on the edge and he followed her with his mouth, the pressure becoming harder, hungrier. His tongue slid between her lips and brushed against hers lazily over and over, until that patient, thorough attention registered in an area of her body much farther south.

Thomas briefly broke the kiss. His warm breath caressed her lips. “You’re right. I want you.”

The words rolled over her, low, warm, and full of erotic promise. They tingled places that hadn’t tingled in a while. She ached with the need for more. Damn it. She would’ve given anything for Adam to suddenly have to go out for a smoke…for an hour or two.

Isabelle nipped his lower lip. “Come to my room tonight. I promise I’ll still respect you in the morning.”

Just then the door slammed open. Adam looked stunned for a millisecond at the sight before him and then said, “He’s moving.”

HE MOVED FAST.

“What happened to sitting around and watching Wheel of Fortune? What happened to the beer drinking? What happened to the whole hand-down-the-pants thing?” asked Isabelle as Thomas guided the car down the busy street, trying to keep up with Alexander’s Volvo.

Marrow-sucking demons didn’t drive Volvos. They just didn’t.