Guardian's Grace (Dark Protectors #12) - Rebecca Zanetti Page 0,120

in his eyes. “I see.”

“Do you?” She set the picture down and slid over him, straddling him, her eyes an impossibly stunning hue.

“Yes.” His throat closed.

She leaned in and kissed him, her lips sweet and soft. “I love you.” Then she leaned back. “What you said before was sweet but it’s okay if you’re not really there yet, and it’s okay if we have to wrench open your emotions with the jaws of life. Apparently I’m now immortal and have centuries to make you realize what you feel.”

The jaws of life? The female did have a way with words. As much fun as it would be to get her to spend lifetimes teaching him that he loved her, he already knew. When he’d thought she was hurt, he’d nearly lost his mind. He would’ve lost his soul. Life could be short, even for his kind, so he gave her everything. “I love you, Grace. Have since the first moment I held you in my arms.”

* * * *

Grace stilled, her entire body going on full alert. It was too good to be true. “You love me.”

“Yes.” His smile held amusement and something else. Something real. Love. “I don’t believe completely in fate, as you know. But there’s a reason I was able to mate you without sex, and there’s a reason my marking appeared on my hand the second I touched you.”

Yeah, but there could be all sorts of biological reasons for that. “You were doing a favor.”

He kissed her, going deep but being playful. Fun and light. Gentle and teasing. Then he leaned back, his gaze full dark silver. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m fine with you spending all the time you want getting me to love you more, but it’s impossible. I can’t imagine there being more love. It’s not all roses and rice, either.”

She smiled, cuddling into his massive chest. “Of course not.” Roses and rice were just symbols. They had something deeper. “Thank you for coming to get me.” It didn’t matter which time. They all counted.

“I’ll always come and get you.” He kissed her again, expressing every emotion she could ever want. Apparently when the Highlander let go, he did it completely. Figured. “The times ahead aren’t going to be easy, but I know we’ll always make it through.”

She smiled, her hand over his heart, right where she wanted to be. “I know. You’re a great soldier.”

He nipped her lip. “Even so, I have what other soldiers could only dream of having.” He kissed her again, sending desire and something deeper, something true, through her very veins.

She lifted her head, feeling at home for the first time in her life. “What do you have?”

“I have you. Grace.”

Please read on for an excerpt from the newest Romantic Suspense novel in Rebecca Zanetti’s bestselling Deep Ops series.

DRIVEN

Prologue

Six months ago

Thunder bellowed a distant warning while the wind rustled dried leaves along the lake path. Angus Force stumbled over an exposed tree root and somehow righted himself before falling on his ass. Again. The mud on his jeans proved he’d slipped at least once already.

Roscoe snorted and kept scouting the trail, his furry nose close to the rocky ground. His snort held derision.

“Shut up,” Angus said, surprised his voice didn’t slur. He’d started the morning with his fishing pole and two bottles of Jack. Now it was getting dark, he had no fish, and the bottles were empty. The forest swirled around him, the trees dark and silent. He glared at his German shepherd. “Be nice or I won’t feed you.”

The dog didn’t pause in his explorations. His ears didn’t even twitch.

Angus sighed. “I should’ve left you with the FBI.” Of course, the dog had a slight problem with authority and probably would’ve been put down at some point. Angus brightened. They had that in common. “All right. I guess I’ll feed you.”

Roscoe stopped suddenly.

Angus nearly ran into him, swerving at the last second and slipping on the leaves. “What the hell?”

The fur on Roscoe’s back stood up, and he stared straight ahead down the trail. He went deadly silent, his focus absolute.

Angus dropped his pole and the sack containing the bottles. Damn it. He hadn’t brought a gun. Of course, he’d been more concerned about having enough alcohol to get through the day.

He gave a hand signal to the dog and veered off the trail, winding through a part of the forest he could navigate blindfolded. The scents of fresh pine and dead leaves commingled around him,

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