she was just as aroused as he was. Maybe this wasn’t all pure games. Yet, even if she was as turned on as he, that could only spell trouble. Her boyfriend aside, Brandon needed to stay focused on the case. Committed to protecting Kate. For all he knew, Natalya could have something to do with the string of murders on the strip.
Using that bit of logic to find the strength to walk away, he turned for the hall. “Put Becca on after Jill.”
He slammed the door on any objection she might have tried.
Five
N
atalya’s body quaked in Brandon’s wake. She dragged in one deep breath after another. Her breasts felt heavy and full, her nipples sharp enough to cut glass. Another heaviness settled into her womb, adding to the dampness between her legs. She bit the inside of her cheek to silence a moan.
The force of her reaction to Brandon Moretti stunned her. She wasn’t innocent. Not by a long shot. But sex with Dmitri was no different than the rest of her life—a lie. She faked it like a master actress. The two brief excursions with Alexei had been nothing more than a product of loneliness. Even he though, with his fantastically thick blond hair and deep-set dimples, hadn’t awakened such fierce longing. One touch hadn’t left her skin tingling as it did now where Brandon’s fingers had scalded into her thighs.
No one had ever treated her with such disregard for her abilities. As a Black Opal, her talents placed her in the middle of danger. Nerves of steel sent her across the world in search of targets that quietly disappeared. Threats she’d exterminated without a moment’s hesitation. Three years with Dmitri saw her as first a hired hit man, then his lover. His cronies, to the very people on the street in Moscow, gave her deferential treatment. Regardless of assignment, of location, those she interacted with—or in some cases hunted—respected her capabilities.
Brandon’s ignorance of her capabilities exposed her to something completely unfamiliar. Something that thrilled her more than any chase.
He treated her like a normal human being. Like a woman he was capable of overpowering.
The effect was stifling. More than a little terrifying.
She pulled in another short breath and straightened her robe. What the hell was happening to her? He’d touched her, and her carefully maintained network of reflexes and sixth senses fled out the window. Under any other circumstance, she’d have turned the tables. Claimed power with a strategically placed knee or a twist of a wrist. But no. He’d put his hands on her, and she’d drowned in the intoxicating aroma of clean-shaven, agitated,
aroused
male.
Unacceptable.
Natalya jerked open the door and made a sharp left turn toward the emergency exit at the end of the hall. A shove sent the door flying against the concrete exterior. Cool night air rushed through the thin silk of her robe. She stepped out onto the fire escape, breathing in the scents of the city. Horns beeped. Voices carried up from the street below. All around, neon lights infused the Strip with a magical glow.
Arms braced on the iron rail, she gazed up at the stars and willed her body into submission. Normal didn’t play a part of her everyday life. She couldn’t bathe in the luxury. Couldn’t afford to become distracted. While they could easily remove Kate from danger, doing so would tip off Dmitri. They’d lose their advantage, and three years of hell would amount to nothing.
She must keep her mind focused on finding Iskatel´, not Brandon and the way he set off her yearnings. Which meant she had to find a way to convince him to let her onstage and Sergei inside the club.
The door snicked open behind her. She glanced over her shoulder as one of the men she’d seen earlier that afternoon stepped out. He greeted her with a cordial smile. “Hey. Don’t think Brandon introduced us yet. I’m Aaron Mayer. In charge of security.” He thrust out his hand. “And you’re violating that security by
Using that bit of logic to find the strength to walk away, he turned for the hall. “Put Becca on after Jill.”
He slammed the door on any objection she might have tried.
Five
N
atalya’s body quaked in Brandon’s wake. She dragged in one deep breath after another. Her breasts felt heavy and full, her nipples sharp enough to cut glass. Another heaviness settled into her womb, adding to the dampness between her legs. She bit the inside of her cheek to silence a moan.
The force of her reaction to Brandon Moretti stunned her. She wasn’t innocent. Not by a long shot. But sex with Dmitri was no different than the rest of her life—a lie. She faked it like a master actress. The two brief excursions with Alexei had been nothing more than a product of loneliness. Even he though, with his fantastically thick blond hair and deep-set dimples, hadn’t awakened such fierce longing. One touch hadn’t left her skin tingling as it did now where Brandon’s fingers had scalded into her thighs.
No one had ever treated her with such disregard for her abilities. As a Black Opal, her talents placed her in the middle of danger. Nerves of steel sent her across the world in search of targets that quietly disappeared. Threats she’d exterminated without a moment’s hesitation. Three years with Dmitri saw her as first a hired hit man, then his lover. His cronies, to the very people on the street in Moscow, gave her deferential treatment. Regardless of assignment, of location, those she interacted with—or in some cases hunted—respected her capabilities.
Brandon’s ignorance of her capabilities exposed her to something completely unfamiliar. Something that thrilled her more than any chase.
He treated her like a normal human being. Like a woman he was capable of overpowering.
The effect was stifling. More than a little terrifying.
She pulled in another short breath and straightened her robe. What the hell was happening to her? He’d touched her, and her carefully maintained network of reflexes and sixth senses fled out the window. Under any other circumstance, she’d have turned the tables. Claimed power with a strategically placed knee or a twist of a wrist. But no. He’d put his hands on her, and she’d drowned in the intoxicating aroma of clean-shaven, agitated,
aroused
male.
Unacceptable.
Natalya jerked open the door and made a sharp left turn toward the emergency exit at the end of the hall. A shove sent the door flying against the concrete exterior. Cool night air rushed through the thin silk of her robe. She stepped out onto the fire escape, breathing in the scents of the city. Horns beeped. Voices carried up from the street below. All around, neon lights infused the Strip with a magical glow.
Arms braced on the iron rail, she gazed up at the stars and willed her body into submission. Normal didn’t play a part of her everyday life. She couldn’t bathe in the luxury. Couldn’t afford to become distracted. While they could easily remove Kate from danger, doing so would tip off Dmitri. They’d lose their advantage, and three years of hell would amount to nothing.
She must keep her mind focused on finding Iskatel´, not Brandon and the way he set off her yearnings. Which meant she had to find a way to convince him to let her onstage and Sergei inside the club.
The door snicked open behind her. She glanced over her shoulder as one of the men she’d seen earlier that afternoon stepped out. He greeted her with a cordial smile. “Hey. Don’t think Brandon introduced us yet. I’m Aaron Mayer. In charge of security.” He thrust out his hand. “And you’re violating that security by
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