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Glaring at the computer screen, his eyes narrowed at the program’s response to his earlier command. The anomaly wasn’t part of the programming, but neither was it identified or located.
Pulling up the holo-board he went back to work.
Jonas would have to wait until later.
• • •
She’d been certain she could find at least some measure of peace at the small Reever guest estate, Cat thought as she opened her eyes the next afternoon and stared across the pool at Graeme. She’d sensed him watching her, known before she even opened her eyes that he was there.
Drifting lazily in the pool behind the house, dressed in nothing but a miniscule bikini, Cat admitted that the urge to enjoy the water might have been a mistake. The Bengal was watching her like an afternoon snack after missing breakfast.
“What do you want?” she muttered.
Pushing the inflatable lounger to the steps leading into the water, she slid from the float and stepped warily onto the rock patio.
Graeme was prowling closer, his gaze flickering over her body as water dripped down her tanned flesh. The look was so intent she wondered that she couldn’t feel the touch of it like a physical caress.
“Stop undressing me with your eyes,” she demanded as she moved to the umbrella-shaded table and the bottle of water resting in the ice bucket there.
“You’re already undressed,” he assured her, his voice smooth seduction. “I was merely enjoying the view.”
“Then stop enjoying the view.” Not that the retort fazed him.
His lips quirked in the beginnings of a far too appealing hint of humor. And was still watching her, still stroking her with his gaze, caressing her. And she found herself far too responsive to it.
She reached for the light robe she’d brought out with her.
“Please don’t, Cat.” It wasn’t a demand.
Turning, she met his gaze, the hunger and need in it blistering, the demand clear, but his tone was gentle, requesting. He was asking her not to put the robe on, not demanding it. At least not demanding it vocally.
“Why?” She had to turn away from him, the need she glimpsed in his gaze weakened her, made her want to forget the past thirteen years, and she didn’t dare forget.
“Because you’re the most beautiful vision I’ve ever had.” His voice was rough now, the sound of it flooding her senses and her body with the most incredible weakness. The pleasure that flooded her entire being shortened her breath while causing her heart to race in excitement.
How did he do this to her? Why had her entire life been consumed by this one Breed and all the conflicting, pain-filled emotions he inspired in her?
“Why are you doing this to me, Graeme? Why are you trying to destroy me?” He’d been her world then he’d destroyed it. She’d been a child. Nothing had mattered to her but him, and he’d destroyed her.
“Destroying you was never my intent.” He moved behind her, stopping only when he was within a breath of touching her. Gently, firmly, his fingers curled around her hips as his head lowered to her bare shoulder. “Hurting you was never my intent, Cat.”
“Then what was your intent?” Fists clenched, she fought the lure of his body, the memory of the incredible sensations his lips could create against her flesh. “Because for something you didn’t intend, you’re doing a damned good job of it.”
He was destroying her senses, her determination to remain aloof, her promise to herself that she would never allow him to shred her heart again. Or what still remained of her heart.
Callused fingers clenched at her hips, holding her in place when she would have eased away from him.
She couldn’t do this. If she continued to stand here, to let him hold her against him, then she would cave and she would beg him to take her, to continue ripping her apart. One hand slid from her hip to her stomach where it flattened against the clenched muscles of her lower abdomen. Her eyes closed, the sensual weakness building, making a mockery of her determination to withhold herself from him.
“I can smell your need, soft and heated,” he whispered at her ear. “An addictive scent I find myself longing for at the oddest moments.”
“I’m sure there’s a twelve-step program for that somewhere. I bet Jonas Wyatt could point you in the right direction,” she assured him, forcing the sarcasm into her voice rather than the breathless need she couldn’t hide from him.
The feel of his teeth raking against her neck was followed by a low, warning growl in reply to the suggestion.
“Bad girl,” he berated her. “I’m sure I don’t need Jonas’s help in any way.”
“You need help period,” she assured him before gasping and finding herself turned so quickly she barely registered the move.
