“Enough.” Salvatore scowled. “I have been searching for you for a long time, Harley. You’re not going to escape me now.”
“Oh, yeah?” A slow, taunting smile curved her lips. “Then come and get me.”
She whirled on her heel and with startling speed, was headed toward the side of the house.
In less than a heartbeat, Salvatore was giving chase, his brain shutting down as his predatory nature took over.
He didn’t know what he intended to do when he caught her. Bite her, bed her, or toss her over his shoulder and lock her in his lair. But it was going to be deeply satisfying.
“Salvatore…” Levet called, his voice nothing but a distant annoyance.
His only thought was catching the slender form that was rounding the corner of the house.
Had he been in his right mind, he would never have given chase. Madre del dio, it had trap written all over it. As it was, his only thought was sweet vanilla and warm woman.
Cutting the corner around the house, he had a nanosecond to realize that Harley had come to a halt and was standing with a smug grin on her lips. Then the earth beneath his feet began to shift and he was falling through empty air.
“Sucker,” the woman called, adding insult to injury as Salvatore hit the paved floor and the top of the silver cage slammed shut above him.
Harley’s heart was thundering in her chest as she paused at the entrance to the basement.
A part of her was damned proud of herself.
After years of having Salvatore Giuliani’s name used as her personal boogeyman, she hadn’t panicked when he’d suddenly appeared. In fact, she’d coolly stood her ground, and even lured the mighty King of Weres into her trap.
Piece of cake.
Harley blew out a sigh and wiped the sweat from her brow.
Liar, liar.
Her seeming composure had been nothing more than shock and temporary insanity.
The shock had been a result of the realization that the powerful Were who wanted her dead had finally tracked her down, and was standing just a few feet away.
The insanity was the raw, undeniable reaction to Salvatore’s presence.
Frigging hell.
Caine had warned her that Salvatore was a powerful beast. Werewolves didn’t have hereditary royalty. They fought and schemed and bullied their way to the top. Like Top Model, only with a lot more blood and less boobs.
What Caine hadn’t mentioned was that Salvatore was drop-dead, mouthwateringly gorgeous.
A shudder shook her at the thought of his lean, darkly handsome face and eyes like liquid gold. His features were pure Latin, with a long aquiline nose and full lips. His hair was a rich wave of raven satin that flowed just past his shoulders. And his body…yum. Even beneath the filthy suit, she could tell it was lean and hard in all the right places.
Still, she’d seen handsome men before.
Caine was no slouch in the looks department.
So why hadn’t any of them made her blood sizzle and her palms sweat?
It was like he possessed some sort of electric charge that was the precise current to push her buttons.
All her buttons.
She knocked her head against the wall, telling herself to stop being an idiot.
So, Salvatore had an animal magnetism. No doubt being the king gave him an extra umph or something. That didn’t mean she was about to forget the fact that the bastard had killed her sisters.