"I'm here to stop Dunleavy, nothing more, nothing less." Her strange-colored eyes searched his, and heat bloomed fiercer in her cheeks. She licked her lips, and it was all he could do not to taste their moistness for himself. Lord, he didn't know what it was about this woman, but she'd hooked him in her web faster than a spider's caught a fly.
"But," she continued softly, breathlessly, "I'll need your help, if I'm to succeed."
"You could be right," he murmured and gave in to temptation, briefly kissing her sweet lips. It felt like he was dipping a toe into heaven. Felt like he was coming home. "But I have no intention of helping you."
"I could make it worth your while."
"Oh, I'm sure you could." He slid his hand down her back. Even through the thick woolen shirt he could feel the heat of her skin. Like him, she seemed to burn. "Only I do not need a partner. Dunleavy is mine to kill."
"Dunleavy is more than you think he is. And he intends to sacrifice two men in a ritual tonight. We have to stop him."
He caressed the firm cheeks of her rear. A quiver ran through her, and her pupils widened slightly, evidence of the desire he could almost smell. Holding her gaze, daring her to stop him, he slid his hand back up to the band of her skirt and began to tug free her shirt.
"There is no ‘we’ in any of this, and I do not care if Dunleavy sacrifices a hundred men—not if the bloody trail leads me to him."
"That is a very selfish and unproductive attitude."
Smiling coldly, he undid the bottom button of her shirt and moved up to the next one. "I am a very selfish man, and I'm prone to taking what I want, when I want."
"And right now you think you can just take me?"
Another button gone, two more to go. His anticipation rose. "Yes."
"You'd be wrong, you know."
He raised an eyebrow, but his attention was more on what was about to be revealed than what she was saying. "You're the one who said you could make it worth my while."
"Only if we work together. I don't believe in free samples before the agreement." The last button came undone, and he pushed her shirt open. Her breasts were far smaller than what they'd appeared, but as glorious as he'd imagined. Yet it was the scar at the base of her neck that held his gaze.