“True.” Troy ran his hands down his shirt, licking his lips. “A wise imp swims with the tide.”
She snorted. Troy did a lot of swimming with the tide. Which, of course, meant that he had connections throughout the demon world.
And that was precisely why Sophia had contacted him a few days before.
“Did you bring what I asked?”
With a chuckle that should have given her ample warning, he gave a lift of his hand, motioning toward a nearby doorway.
“Don’t I always deliver?”
Her lips parted, but her words were forgotten as a man stepped from the shadows.
No, not a man ... a pure-blooded Were, she quickly corrected, catching the feral scent of his wolf. And so sinfully gorgeous that he made her heart slam against her ribs.
She covertly clenched her hands as he strolled forward. What the hell was wrong with her?
Her entire life had been filled with handsome, powerful men. All of them anxious for the opportunity to impress her. Whether it was to earn the right to breed with her. Or just to enjoy a few wicked nights of pleasure.
But she couldn’t recall ever feeling as if she’d just stepped off the edge of a cliff and was plummeting through thin air.
Was that why she couldn’t breathe?
More than a little disturbed by her unwelcome reaction, she warily studied the stranger.
He was handsome, but it wasn’t the polished elegance of her dancers.
The blue-black hair was cut short, as if he couldn’t be bothered to mess with it, but the severe style only emphasized the stark male beauty of his face. His skin was the rich bronze that came from Latin heat and his eyes more black than brown.
He was taller than her, perhaps six foot, but he was thick with muscles that rippled beneath the skintight black T-shirt that was matched with a pair of black combat pants.
Ruthless.
The word whispered through her mind at the same moment his potent heat wrapped around her, inflaming her blood with a pulsing awareness she hadn’t felt in decades.
“Good ... God,” she muttered.
Troy cleared his throat, doing a piss-poor job of hiding his amusement.
Jackass.
“Sophia, this is Luc. Luc, Sophia.” The imp waved a languid hand toward the massive Were. “Isn’t he just to die for?”
Sophia’s gaze clashed with the burning black gaze, her skin suddenly feeling too tight for her body.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
This Were was trouble with a capital T and the very last thing she needed.
Tilting her chin, she allowed her gaze to slowly skim over the body that begged to be licked from head to toe, deliberately allowing her lips to curl into a sneer.
Neanderthals like this were always hyperarrogant. An insult to his pride and he’d be out the door right quick and in a hurry.
“I asked for a bodyguard, not a stripper wannabe,” she mocked.
The dark eyes narrowed, but instead of the chest-thumping and the fast exit she’d been hoping for, he stepped even closer, the rich scent of male musk teasing at her senses.
“Good, because I’m not into public displays.” His voice slid over her like hot chocolate, smoothly decadent. “Of course, if you want a private performance you could ask me nicely.”