Rogue Descendant (Nikki Glass) - By Jenna Black Page 0,76

brief laughter from him was so rare that I had to look up at his face after all.

“I’m not sure,” he admitted. “I think it’s Swedish or Finnish or something like that. Matilda’s family was from Scandinavia somewhere. I’m sure I’m butchering the pronunciation.”

“Whatever language it was, it was beautiful,” I told him again, still wiping at my tears.

He shrugged, uncomfortable with the praise. And possibly with the tenderness he’d just shown me. He started plucking at the string on his jeans again. I had a feeling that the discomfort was going to get to be too much for him soon, and he would retreat, leaving me alone to recover. Maybe that would have been the best thing for me, but the last thing I wanted was to be alone.

I reached out and touched the place on his chest where my head had rested. Not surprisingly, his shirt was damp.

“I’m sorry I got your shirt wet,” I murmured as I continued to skim my fingers over the wet spot.

“Nikki . . .” There was an unmistakable warning in his voice, but I didn’t feel inclined to listen, and despite the warning, he wasn’t pulling away.

“It must feel kind of clammy against your skin. Maybe you should take it off.”

He shook his head and pulled my hand away from his chest, but he couldn’t hide the flare of heat in his eyes. I’m not a ravishing beauty under the best of circumstances, and I didn’t want to know how awful I looked after a crying jag like I’d just been through. But I knew Jamaal found me attractive anyway, and I was sitting there in front of him wearing nothing but a bra and panties. Mismatched, and not exactly pretty, but I’ve found men rarely care about such things.

“We’ve given Sita enough fuel to feed her jealousy already,” he said, fingers still wrapped around my hand even as he verbally pushed me away.

I snorted. “Sita can bite me! And probably will, if she gets a chance.”

The dirty look Jamaal gave me suggested he didn’t find my attempt at a joke all that funny. I guess I didn’t, either, because I really didn’t look forward to having his psycho tiger even more mad at me than she already was.

“You can’t let her run your life, Jamaal.”

He tried to stand up, but I anticipated it and grabbed a handful of his shirt. He could have torn away from me easily, but he settled for a halfhearted glare instead.

“The death magic has run my life ever since I first became Liberi,” he growled at me. “Whether it’s contained inside me, or in the form of a tiger, it doesn’t matter. It always wins.”

He was trying to look and sound fierce and angry, but I could hear the wealth of pain under the facade. Still holding on to my handful of shirt, I got to my knees beside him so my head could be level with his as I looked into his eyes. It would have been more effective if he hadn’t turned his face away from me.

“You’ve always been fighting it solo,” I reminded him, then cupped my hand around his face so I could turn him toward me. There was fear in his eyes when he met my gaze, but there was desire, also. “You’re not in this fight alone anymore.”

“I have to be,” he said. I caressed his face, feeling the racing of his pulse beneath my fingertips. “It’s too dangerous . . .”

“After what I faced today, I’m not intimidated by a jealous cat.” We both knew that wasn’t true, of course. Only an idiot wouldn’t be afraid of a magical tiger with a grudge. “And besides, I think you’re worth fighting for.”

Jamaal closed his eyes as if those words hurt, but he leaned forward and rested his forehead against mine, so I guess they didn’t.

“I don’t want you to get hurt because of me,” he whispered, his breath tickling against my skin.

I kissed his temple and felt the shudder of desire that ripped through him. Encouraged, I started kissing my way down the side of his face. One of his hands came to rest on my back, and one on my hip, just above the waistband of my panties. I took that as another positive sign and propped his chin on my palm so that his mouth was at the perfect angle.

His hands clamped down tighter when our lips first touched, and he held himself rigidly still, fighting his desire.