his pocket.
She sat in the passenger seat, which was more like a chair with a high back. “You hunt these things.”
He backed up at an angle without giving the surrounding trees much notice. Like he’d already calculated what it would take to leave quickly. She watched his hands, strong and capable, maneuvering the wheel. They were the hands of a man who used them. She could easily conjure the memory of how they felt on her arm, rough and firm. Unfortunately she could imagine how they’d feel on other parts of her body, too.
He didn’t answer, and she realized she hadn’t actually asked a question.
“Okay, so you hunt Glouks,” she said again. “For fun?”
He slid her a Are you kidding me? glance, but focused on what he was doing. Since he was, after all, driving a large vehicle out of a forest, she supposed she’d let him concentrate on that.
As soon as they were on the highway, though, she continued. “You don’t get paid for it, do you? Unless you’re a secret government agent or something?”
Still, he only gave her a look that she supposed was an answer in the negative.
“Do you have a job?” she asked.
“I don’t need a job.”
He hunted Glouks, creatures that liked to kill humans and livestock. Then it hit her. Her eyes widened. “That’s why you can’t be around me—us. You said it was to protect us.”
He kept his gaze on the road, his voice devoid of emotion. “Kind of hard to have a life when you’re all over the country dealing with killer vermin.”
Her body melted into the soft leather chair, the relief at finally knowing the truth softening her bones. It wasn’t that he couldn’t stand the sight of her, thought she was too flaky, or any other reason she’d thrown at the wall to see if it would stick.
It would be especially hard to have a woman with him who was a scaredy-cat. That he could turn into a panther scared the hell out of her, and he was the good guy. Now she’d seen the other side.
“So you think this Glouk will hurt me?”
“Yurek is the bigger problem. He’s targeting you on purpose. Baal would only kill you because you’re with me or in the way.” He slid her a dark look. “Which you were.”
“Well, excuse me for trying to help.”
“You have no idea what you’re dealing with. You don’t have the skills or experience to throw yourself into my battles. Just because you survived Darkwell doesn’t make you capable of handling either of these enemies.”
“You told me I was stronger than I thought.”
“You are. But you’re not strong enough for this.” He looked at her. “Have you ever killed someone? Something?”
“Flies.” She shrugged. “I put out mousetraps last year when I found droppings.” She wasn’t about to tell him she’d begged Eric to take away the snapped traps.
Cheveyo chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, you’ve got a real killer instinct.”
“I didn’t think about how it would feel to stab a living creature. I just didn’t want that thing to win.” She pulled her legs close to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. “What now? You said we were going to your place to meet up with Pope. Where is your place?”
“Arizona.”
That surprised her into silence for a moment. “How long will that take?”
“Day and a half.”
She glanced back into the RV. “And we’ll sleep here?”
“Yep.”
She realized this was probably his home more often than not. She looked at him, still in disbelief that he was here, she was here, that they were together. Temporarily. Good God, the last thing she needed was to be hung up on a guy who not only morphed into a black panther, but hunted things supernatural. He was the perfectly wrong guy. Perfectly gorgeous, intriguing, yummy, and totally, completely wrong.
Nice, normal life. Greg, with his easy smile and normalness, yes, that’s what I need. Want. Desire. Lust for.
Except her gaze slid down Cheveyo’s shoulders, wide and strong under his now wrinkled red
She sat in the passenger seat, which was more like a chair with a high back. “You hunt these things.”
He backed up at an angle without giving the surrounding trees much notice. Like he’d already calculated what it would take to leave quickly. She watched his hands, strong and capable, maneuvering the wheel. They were the hands of a man who used them. She could easily conjure the memory of how they felt on her arm, rough and firm. Unfortunately she could imagine how they’d feel on other parts of her body, too.
He didn’t answer, and she realized she hadn’t actually asked a question.
“Okay, so you hunt Glouks,” she said again. “For fun?”
He slid her a Are you kidding me? glance, but focused on what he was doing. Since he was, after all, driving a large vehicle out of a forest, she supposed she’d let him concentrate on that.
As soon as they were on the highway, though, she continued. “You don’t get paid for it, do you? Unless you’re a secret government agent or something?”
Still, he only gave her a look that she supposed was an answer in the negative.
“Do you have a job?” she asked.
“I don’t need a job.”
He hunted Glouks, creatures that liked to kill humans and livestock. Then it hit her. Her eyes widened. “That’s why you can’t be around me—us. You said it was to protect us.”
He kept his gaze on the road, his voice devoid of emotion. “Kind of hard to have a life when you’re all over the country dealing with killer vermin.”
Her body melted into the soft leather chair, the relief at finally knowing the truth softening her bones. It wasn’t that he couldn’t stand the sight of her, thought she was too flaky, or any other reason she’d thrown at the wall to see if it would stick.
It would be especially hard to have a woman with him who was a scaredy-cat. That he could turn into a panther scared the hell out of her, and he was the good guy. Now she’d seen the other side.
“So you think this Glouk will hurt me?”
“Yurek is the bigger problem. He’s targeting you on purpose. Baal would only kill you because you’re with me or in the way.” He slid her a dark look. “Which you were.”
“Well, excuse me for trying to help.”
“You have no idea what you’re dealing with. You don’t have the skills or experience to throw yourself into my battles. Just because you survived Darkwell doesn’t make you capable of handling either of these enemies.”
“You told me I was stronger than I thought.”
“You are. But you’re not strong enough for this.” He looked at her. “Have you ever killed someone? Something?”
“Flies.” She shrugged. “I put out mousetraps last year when I found droppings.” She wasn’t about to tell him she’d begged Eric to take away the snapped traps.
Cheveyo chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, you’ve got a real killer instinct.”
“I didn’t think about how it would feel to stab a living creature. I just didn’t want that thing to win.” She pulled her legs close to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. “What now? You said we were going to your place to meet up with Pope. Where is your place?”
“Arizona.”
That surprised her into silence for a moment. “How long will that take?”
“Day and a half.”
She glanced back into the RV. “And we’ll sleep here?”
“Yep.”
She realized this was probably his home more often than not. She looked at him, still in disbelief that he was here, she was here, that they were together. Temporarily. Good God, the last thing she needed was to be hung up on a guy who not only morphed into a black panther, but hunted things supernatural. He was the perfectly wrong guy. Perfectly gorgeous, intriguing, yummy, and totally, completely wrong.
Nice, normal life. Greg, with his easy smile and normalness, yes, that’s what I need. Want. Desire. Lust for.
Except her gaze slid down Cheveyo’s shoulders, wide and strong under his now wrinkled red
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