and Eve wiped it away impatiently. “This afternoon pretty much ruined me for men with your coloring. Switching teams actually sounds pretty good at the moment.”
“Don’t,” he said tightly, the muscles in his arms flexing. “I’m barely holding it together as it is. I’d hunt him down now, if you weren’t about to be extremely sick. You need me here, more than you need me out there.”
Her laughter was harsh and without humor. “You’re something I don’t need in my life, especially now.”
Alec rubbed the back of his neck. The pose showed off his well-defined biceps to perfection. It pissed her off that she could still find him so damned attractive.
“I’m sorry, angel.”
Somehow, he managed to fill those words with a wealth of regret. But she wasn’t buying what he was selling. He was one of those guys who never stayed in one place for long and left broken hearts in his wake. The first time she’d been too young to know better. There was no excuse now.
Perspiration gathered between her breasts and trickled down her chest. Eve rubbed at the wetness through her tank top. “It’s been a really crappy day, Alec. I need to go to the doctor in the morning. If you would leave and not come back, I’d be super grateful. I might even forgive you for being crazy. Someday.”
A sudden flare of heat spread across her skin and made her dizzy. The room spun and she stumbled. Alec caught her, cradling her violently shivering body down to the floor. He pulled the gun from her lax fingers, and set it down carefully beside him.
“Alec . . .” The smell of his skin, achingly familiar, drugged her already confused senses.
“I’m here, angel,” he crooned, pulling her into his embrace.
She clutched at his arm and found the raised mark with her fingertips. Turning her head, Eve saw it. The trinity knot and serpents were just like hers, only his brand had another image in the center. An open eye. His looked like an embossed tattoo, while hers was most definitely a blistering burn.
“Dear god,” she gasped, her breathing labored as she felt consciousness slipping from her. “What’s going on?”
He brushed strands of her hair away from her face. Her skin tingled where he touched her, goose bumps rising. Everything about the way he looked at her exacerbated her fever. There was nothing in the world like being wanted with a primitive desire. The one thing she’d never doubted was that Alec was madly in lust with her.
“You were drawn to him because of me, weren’t you?” His lips hovered above hers so that their panting breaths mingled and became one. It was as intimate as sex, that sharing of breaths between them.
She didn’t have to answer. He knew. He always knew.
His thumb brushed across her cheekbone. He moved to kiss her, but Eve jerked her head away.
“Damn you,” she breathed, her nails digging into his skin.
“We’re both damned.” He pulled her into his lap and tucked her flushed face into the crook of his neck, where the scent of his skin was so strong.
Against her will, she nuzzled him, rubbing her sweat into his flesh. She felt the urge to crawl inside him, to see what made him tick. Her tongue darted out and tasted him. He shuddered in response, squeezing her tighter. Her wound was on the arm facing away from him and she felt his fingertips move, feather light, over her bandage.
Her voice came as no more than a whisper. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“You’re right, angel. You haven’t.” His lips pressed hard to her damp forehead.
“Then why?”
He exhaled harshly. “Because of me. Because I couldn’t resist you.”
Eve opened her mouth to reply, but weariness pulled hard at her and she sank into darkness.
CHAPTER 5
The deep rumbling growl of a Harley drew Eve’s gaze to the parking lot of the ice-cream shop where she worked after school. It was five in the evening and the day was just starting to end. The horizon was the color of a tangerine tinged with burgundy.
She walked to the end of the counter to catch a glimpse of the Heritage Softail that lounged in front of the Circle K convenience store next door. It was a black and chrome beauty, boasting custom saddlebags and a well-worn seat.
“What I wouldn’t give for a bike like that,” she whispered, “and the freedom of the road.”
Not that she was unhappy with her life, because she wasn’t. It was just . . .