Born of Ice

Devyn was there.

Wearing a tight black VR suit that was trimmed in green and silver, he appeared to be running through a training exercise. Mesmerized, she watched as he fought against enemies only he could see.

Wow . . . his entire body was a symphony of sinew and grace. And he moved like lightning.

Fierce. Strong. Fluid. Honestly, she’d never known that a man could move like that. She doubted if even an assassin could match his skill.

I don’t ever want to be on the receiving end of that . . .

The lights in the room flashed before Devyn came to a stop. His breathing labored, he pulled his helmet off.

Damn . . .

Sweat made his tawny skin glisten, and his black hair was plastered against those perfect features. The sight of him like that made her instantly wet as he licked his lips and brushed his hand through the damp strands to push his hair out of his eyes.

And when he saw her, the smile that spread across his face did the strangest things to her will.

“I didn’t hear you come in. Sorry.” He unzipped the VR suit and peeled it off until he wore nothing but a sleeveless gray T-shirt and a pair of tight black shorts.

She wanted to respond, but her tongue was too thick to cooperate. All she could focus on was how incredible that ripped body was.

I so want a piece of that . . .

Alix, get a grip.

Yeah, but the problem was, she only wanted a grip on him. Oh, dear lord, he was fine.

He’s a killer. A felon.

He’s the hottest thing on two legs.

There was definitely no denying it.

He picked up a towel to dry his hair. “You coming to work out?”

“Yes.” True, her voice was breathless, but at least this time she managed to speak a whole cognitive syllable.

“You want me to reset the machine?”

No. I want to ride you until you’re begging me for mercy. Clearing her throat, she tried to shove that image out of her mind. “That would be great. Thanks.”

And strip off the rest of your clothes while you’re doing that.

She clenched her teeth in frustration at herself for those thoughts she couldn’t seem to stop. Why was her body doing this to her? She never reacted to a man like this.

You’re a frigid bitch. I swear you have ice in your veins.

She cringed at the memory of Irn’s voice in her head. He’d been a nasty bastard. Taking all of her father’s money had been the least of his crimes. Truth was, she’d been relieved when he left. Her biggest fear had been of him raping her sister while they slept. She was still amazed they’d managed to survive without that happening.

Probably only because her mother slept in the room with them and everyone knew Alix slept fully armed. She would never willingly be a victim to anyone. Her father might have made her the crew whore, but she refused to be raped.

Devyn frowned at Alix’s continued silence. He glanced at her, only to have her look quickly away. A slow smile broke over his face as he realized she’d been eying his ass. While she was distracted, he traced her curves with his gaze. Though she wasn’t the kind of skinny women strove for, she was nonetheless stunning. It was obvious she worked out and had the kind of body a man would love to have wrapped around his for days on end.

And her hair . . .

He’d always been a sucker for long hair. Yet for some reason, all the women he’d dated had always cropped theirs short. Alix’s looked so soft that his palm itched to feel it.

More than that, he wanted to bury his face in it and inhale until he was drunk on her scent.

You have been way too long without a woman.

That was certainly true. After the last few women he’d hooked up with, he’d decided he was tired of the drama that came in most shapely packages. He liked his life uncomplicated and his relationships honest.

And short.

Yet for some reason, he kept finding women who wanted to stir up shit and lie to him about the most basic of things. After he’d finally managed to get the last cloying beast off his back, he’d decided he’d rather handle himself than deal with their issues.

And still, Alix appealed to him on a level he’d forgotten existed.

Shaking his head to clear it of the image of her going down on him, he finished resetting the program.

“I had a fight sequence going. You want something more mundane?”

She pulled her hair back from her face and secured it with a band. “Yeah. Running.”

“Desert, urban, beach, country . . .”

“Countryside.”

He frowned. She didn’t strike him as a rural kind of woman. “Really?”

She nodded. “I like the greenery and foliage. When I was little, I used to try and grow plants on my dad’s ship.”

That had to be tough. Most living things didn’t like the recycled air and lack of natural daylight. “Didn’t work?”

She shook her head. “I never could get the hydroponics or lights right.”

“Sorry.” He stepped away from the machine and picked up his suit. “If it makes you feel better, I once tried to grow a monkey.”