Hostile Ground (The Arsenal #7) - Cara Carnes Page 0,36

than continue the argument, he exited the car and headed toward the entrance. The sooner he extricated himself from the beautiful woman charging her way toward him the better. He didn’t want her involved with what he had to do next. She couldn’t find out about his father. Not yet.

Even though he should meet with Father face to face, a phone conversation would suffice for now. Or perhaps a video chat. Father didn’t like those, but he’d agree given the security concerns.

“Don’t walk away from me. You don’t get to make statements about my headaches and then disappear. They aren’t any of your concern. You have no business saying that shit and worrying my team.”

She was wrong. Watching her fight in the underground the past few weeks had been hell. Worrying about her getting hurt or killed… Protectiveness she’d awakened within him the first night they met had returned, a need too great for him to ignore, even if he should. She might be a phenomenal operative more than capable of handling herself, but that didn’t erase the fact a part of him still considered her his to protect.

“Everything to do with you is my business.” He turned and grabbed her about the waist. He dragged her closer and ran his fingers through her hair. She punched at his chest, but he ignored the pain along his shoulder and claimed her mouth.

Need exploded within him as he tasted her lips and licked along the seam until she relaxed in his arms and deepened the kiss. Their tongues collided and dueled for control over the contact.

Cinnamon.

The flavor ignited within his mouth and was exactly what he expected the fiery vixen to taste like. He caressed her face with his thumb and slowed the kiss to a heady exploration that surged all blood southward to his cock. She pressed against him and wrapped her arms around his head, locking him into place as she nibbled at his lips and explored his mouth.

He’d thought about tasting her again every day since she’d kissed him that night. Memories of her spread out, naked and writhing on his sheets assailed him. A groan escaped as he took the lead once again.

He’d love nothing more than to carry her up to his bed and sate the hunger she ignited. But there was too much to be done and he wouldn’t defile his first time with Addy by doing more than kiss when she had a com in her ear.

Severing the contact, he looked down into her shocked gaze. Pain exploded along his cheek.

“Don’t ever do that again,” she growled. She charged up the stairs.

“That was unexpected,” Maksim said as he came to Kristof’s side.

No. It wasn’t. Kristof smiled and rubbed his jaw. He’d deserved the reaction because he’d appealed to the Addy he knew, the one he doubted she shared with anyone else.

“Make sure she finds her room. I’m going to call Father while I have the chance.” He turned and headed up the opposite stairwell.

The private office next to the master bedroom was adorned in the same ostentatious gold accents against dark wood as the rest of the house. Father’s extravagant touches filled the entire eight-thousand-square-foot residence Kristof had been forced to take as his own nineteen years ago.

He sat at the desk and activated the encrypted laptop. He doubted whatever encryption Maksim had put on it would stand up against The Arsenal if they started prying, but Kristof didn’t care right now.

A sigh escaped him as he leaned forward and rested his elbows on the desk. Cinnamon still haunted his tongue. The soft scent of her shampoo filled his nostrils. Why had he kissed her?

The next couple of nights would be sweet torture with her in a bed across the house. It’d been too long since he’d been with anyone. Though he’d never shied away from spending a night or two with a beautiful distraction, the past few months since that night with Addy had driven away desire for anyone but her.

He couldn’t risk exploring anything with her until he’d dealt with Father. He opened the syndicate’s encrypted video chat program and selected Kostya’s name. Though the bastard was unpredictable with most things, the two hours of private time he set aside every afternoon guaranteed he’d be available.

“Kristof. You know I hate this video nonsense.”

“I’m sorry, Father. It couldn’t be avoided given the current situation.” Kristof shifted in his seat. “Are you well?”

“Of course. Why would I not be?” He scowled into the camera,