That arousal was killing him. It wasn't intense and overwhelming, but curious and warm. Almost tentative. He savored the smell of it more than he savored the bread and coffee he was trying to stay focused on.
"So what do you do on the computer?" She was cleaning the loaf pans she had used to bake the bread, carefully washing and drying them at the sink.
He glanced at the slender line of her back, the taut curves of her rear, and shifted restlessly in his chair. His hard-on was killing him.
He hadn't meant to give her the impression he worked mainly on the computer, but he guessed it was better than telling the truth.
"Mostly investigations and research." He shrugged, telling as much of the truth as possible. He hated the thought of lying to her. Which was strange. He was living a lie, and he knew it. He had been since his creation. So why should it bother him now?
"Criminal or financial?" She picked up the coffeepot and walked to the table, filling his cup with the last of the heated liquid.
He frowned at the question as he watched the way the soft, midnight silk of her hair fell forward, tempting his fingers. It looked soft, warm. Like everything he had believed a woman should be.
She wasn't hard, trained to kill, or living her own nightmares, as many of the Feline Breed women were. She was feisty and independent but also soft, exquisite.
"More along the lines of missing persons," he finally answered. "A little bit of everything, though." He nearly choked on that one. He was, quite simply, a bounty hunter and an assassin. His present assignment was the search for one of the escaped Trainers who had murdered countless Feline Breeds while they were held in captivity. The assignment was starting to take second place to the woman in front of him, though.
Damn that coffee was good, but if she didn't get the scent of that soft, heated warmth simmering in her pu**y across the room and away from him, then they were going to have problems.
He could feel the growing sexual need tightening his abdomen and pounding in his brain. He wanted to shake his head, push the scent away from him in an attempt to make sense of it. He had never known a reaction so intense, so immediate to any woman.
From his first glimpse of her outraged expression when he committed the supreme sin of riding his Harley over her lawn, she had captivated him.
She wasn't frightened of him or intimidated by him. She didn't watch him like a piece of meat or an animal that could attack at any moment. She watched him with equal parts frustration, innocence, and hunger.
And if he didn't get the hell away from her, he was going to commit another sin. He was going to show her just how damned bad he did want that curvy little body of hers.
"I guess I should be going." He rose to his feet quickly, finishing off his coffee before taking the cup and his empty saucer to the sink where she was working.
She stared up at him in astonishment as he rinsed them quickly before sitting them in the warm, sudsy water in front of her.
He stared down at her, caught for a moment in the depths of her incredible sapphire eyes. They gleamed. Little pinpoints of brilliant light seemed to fill the dark color, like stars on a blue velvet background. Incredible.
"Thank you." He finally forced the words past his lips. "For the coffee and the bread."
She swallowed tightly. The scent of her wrapped around him—a nervous, uncertain smell of arousal that had his chest filling with a sudden, animalistic growl.
He throttled the sound firmly, clenching his teeth as he backed away from her.
"You're welcome." She cleared her throat after the words came out with a husky, sexy tone of nervousness.
Dammit, he didn't have time for such complications. He had a job to do. One that didn't include a woman he knew would run screaming from him if she had any idea of who and what he was.
She had wrapped the loaves and set them out on the counter by the door for him. He jerked his boots on quickly and picked up the bread, opening the door before turning back to her.
"If you need any help." He shrugged fatalistically. "If there's anything I can do for you…" He let the words trail off. What could he do for her besides complicate her life and make her regret ever meeting him? There was little.
"Just stay away from my yard with your gadgets." Her eyes flowed with humor. "At least until you learn how to use them." The woman evidently had no respect for a man's pride. A grin lilted his lips.
"I promise."
He turned and left the house, regretfully, hating it. There was a warmth within the walls of her home that didn't exist within his own, and it left him feeling unaccountably saddened to leave. What was it about her, about her house, that his suddenly seemed so lacking?
He shook his head, pushed his free hand into his jeans pocket, and made his way across her neatly trimmed backyard to his own less-than-pristine lawn. And his less-than-content life.
Chapter Three
A cold winter rain fell, not quite ice, but close enough to chill Tarek's flesh as he stood in the shadows of his porch late that night.