“Why?”
“To prove that I can.”
Stepping forward, Jagr cupped her chilled face in his hand. “You have nothing to prove, Regan. Not to anyone.”
“This is for me. I won’t be haunted by my memories of Culligan, or the hell he put me through.” She sucked in a shaky breath. “I won’t give him that power.”
A bleak, piercing memory of slipping through a deep cavern to slaughter his enemies without mercy flashed through his mind before he managed to scrub it away.
This was about Regan.
And the festering pain that ran like poison through her blood.
“He lost all power over you when you survived,” Jagr husked, willing her to believe the truth of his words. “Your strength and courage overcame everything he could do to you. You’ve conquered your demon.” His lips twisted, the ever present heat shimmering in his eyes. “Not the last demon you’ll conquer, I’d bet.”
As he intended, Regan was swiftly distracted, a blush staining her cheeks as she took a jerky step away from his lingering touch.
“You said you smelled blood.”
“Yes.” He moved to the very front of the RV, forced to bend over as he studied the driver’s seat. “I don’t know why Culligan came to Hannibal, but his welcoming committee was in a foul mood.”
“He’s dead?”
“He was alive when he left the RV, but he was hurting.”
“Damn.”
With an unexpected speed, Regan was moving deeper into the living area of the RV, punching holes into the faux wooden panels of the wall.
Jagr moved to her side, his lips curving as splinters filled the air. There was nothing more arousing than a powerful woman.
“Not that I don’t approve of wholesale destruction, but there are more satisfying means of exorcising your frustration,” he murmured.
“Culligan kept his money and private papers in a safe…ah.” Tossing him a smug smile, Regan tugged out a small metal box from the hole she’d just made in the panel. A smile that faded as she struggled to wrench the thing open. “Crap.”
“Allow me.” Without asking for permission, Jagr pulled the box from her grasp and wrenched the heavy lid off.
Not surprisingly, he was rewarded with a nasty glare. “Am I supposed to be impressed with your bulging muscles and mindless brute strength?”
“You can be impressed by anything you want, little one, although most women prefer my bulging…”
“Bleck.” She held up a hand. “Enough.”
Jagr might have been offended if he didn’t catch the unmistakable scent of her desire whenever he was near.
Glancing in the box, Jagr grimaced and shoved it toward Regan. “I think you’ve earned this.”
“Christ,” she breathed, her eyes widening at the stash of jewels and watches and neatly stacked money. “Humans. You would think thousands of years of evolution would finally give them the talent of recognizing a blatant swindle.” Regan shuddered, staring at the box as if it were contaminated. “I don’t want this. It’s tainted.”
“Then give it to a charity or throw it in the river. Just so long as Culligan or his friends can’t get their hands on it.”
Regan grimaced. “You’re right.”
“I’m right?” Jagr pressed a hand to his heart in mock astonishment. “Blessed saints, did the sky fall?”
“Smart ass…”
Regan’s eyes widened as Jagr flowed forward to press a hand to her mouth.