Lycan Heat, S. Yule [best selling autobiographies TXT] 📗

love to her. She arched against him, and he broke the kiss, his face a scant inch from hers. His breathing was now nearly as labored as hers, giving proof that he was as affected by her touch as she was by his.

“Don’t do that again, or I swear, I will take you right here against this damned tree.” His eyes glowed eerily.

“What is wr-wrong with your eyes?” His eyes scared the hell out of her, but his words heated her wanton body even more.

“Nothing.” He closed them for a second, and when he opened them, they were normal again.

“Oh my God.” Then it dawned on her. “It’s all true. What my sister and Raze told me. Werewolves exist and you are one of them.”

The growling, the sniffing, the eerie eyes, Janine had told her the truth.

What if he was a rogue? Terror gripped her hard in its ugly hand and squeezed until she could barely breathe.

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“You know about us?”

“Are you a rogue?” Tears streamed down her cheeks now. “Are you going to hurt me because I carry the scent?”

He sucked in a deep breath and swore when she started to sob, then tenderly wiped the tears off her cheeks with his thumb.

“I’m not a rogue. I’m not going to hurt you. If I had any intention of hurting you, I could have—would have—done it by now.”

“Why won’t you let me go then?”

“I can’t.”

“Why?” Was he going to bargain with her? “Please don’t try to trade me for Anthony. I can’t bear knowing I’m responsible for someone else’s death.”

“I meant it when I said I won’t do anything that will hurt you.” He released her and held his hand out. “Come on. Let’s go back to the car.

There’s a motel up the road that we are stopping at for the night.”

“Why are you doing this?” she whispered.

“I have my reasons.” A muscle in his jaw started to tick.

“Janine told me what happened the night Damon came for Raze. If your brother was one of the members of the pack that came with him, he deserved to die. He would have abused and killed my sister without a second thought.”

He clenched his teeth, snagged the front of her shirt, and yanked her to him. She squeaked when he brought his face down to hers.

“You don’t know anything about my brother.”

“No, but I know my sister, and she would not lie about something like that.”

His eyes closed and dark, thick lashes—sinfully thick for a man—fanned against his skin. When his lids opened a moment later, some of the rage that burned in them had subsided. “I don’t want to hear another word about it right now.”

“What is your name?”

“Piers Kavanagh. What is your last name?”

“Denton.” Piers. Just like in her dream. This whole ordeal was getting stranger by the minute. “Can I call my sister when we get to the motel?”

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“We’ll see.” When she didn’t take his offered hand, he reached for hers anyway and began tugging her along behind him as he guided them through the dark trees.

“Can we go a bit slower, please?” It was hard for her to keep up with his long gait, and she was already exhausted from her blind run through the woods.

“Sorry.” His shoulders stiffened, and he slowed down a bit.

For some strange reason, she believed him when he said he wouldn’t hurt her, but she still didn’t want to be alone with him. When he touched her, she didn’t want him to stop. She’d have to keep her guard up around him. He wasn’t for her. He was too big, too intimidating...too everything. He might not physically hurt her, but she had a feeling he could hurt her in other ways, ways that could destroy her—ways that included breaking her heart.

She felt a strong connection to him, but lust didn’t equate to love, and he didn’t strike her as the falling in love sort. He was undoubtedly skilled in the bedroom, could probably show her pleasure like she’d never known existed, but in the end, he’d leave her. And in the end, he’d take her heart with him.

She didn’t know how she was so certain that she could easily fall in love with him, but some sixth sense and the way her lips still tingled from his kiss told her it was so.

The whole thing was puzzling. She should be repulsed by him, yet when he touched her, all she could think about was his mouth on her, all over her, her mouth on him…all over him.

* * * *

He sat on the edge of the bed, every muscle tense as he listened to Sherry talk on the phone. He was impressed with the way she stayed calm for her sister’s sake.

“I’m okay, Janine. Yes. No. He hasn’t hurt me.”

He couldn’t do this. She was going to end up hating him if he forced her to stay with him. He couldn’t just let her walk away, though, yet maybe if he let her, she’d trust him. Maybe if he took her back to Sanctuary, she’d give 38

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him a chance. He wanted to tell her she was his mate and explain to her how important she was to him. He needed to assure her that he’d never intended for them to meet like this.

The things she’d said about the confrontation at Sanctuary involving his brother was another problem. Had her sister been telling her the truth about what happened that night? If his brother had threatened Raze, Brent or Anthony’s mates in any way, his death was justified. Hell, even if he hadn’t threatened the women but attacked any of the men, they had also been within their rights to defend themselves.

Why hadn’t he bothered to confront Anthony about the situation? Why hadn’t he dug a little deeper before putting so much faith into the words of a rogue pack?

The answer was