Keeping his face stoic, he turned and strode out of the house, noting the pummeling snow. The lazy drifting flakes of earlier had disappeared, and the skies had opened up. Freezing shards of snow joined the wind in a melee that hampered visibility.
He turned and prowled farther down into the cul-de-sac, surrounded by watching trees, their boughs heavy with the white powder. The snow cut into him like barbed sleet, and he ducked his head, shoving his hands in his pockets. As he reached Hope’s house, he could feel the tension heightening.
He could sense the vibrations, and fury ripped through him.
When he turned the knob on the front door, his anger escalated further. She’d left the fucking door unlocked.
Nobody shot at him from the trees, so apparently Zane had given orders for the guards to leave him alone.
Good.
Without calling out, he walked inside and kicked off his boots, heading unerringly for her bedroom, where he stopped, just watching her, his heart turning inside out.
She lay on the far side of the bed, small, curled up beneath the covers, having left a lamp on to softly illuminate the room. It was a pink glass lamp that she had found in an antique store a while back. He’d been one of her guards at the time, though she didn’t know it. She had thought she was out unobserved for a fun day of shopping.
The woman always slept like that, curled on her side at the edge of one side of the bed, almost as if making room for him. When they were younger, she had. Even though the blankets covered her, she was shivering. He moved into the room and shut the door, looking for another blanket. The room felt warm enough to him, but she’d been through a lot lately.
Her thick auburn hair was spread over the pillow, and it moved like silk when she made a small sound of distress. The air was electrified with both power and heat. She shouldn’t be cold.
Irritation cut through him, and he walked around to the other side to sit next to her. “Hope, wake up.” He grabbed her shoulder and gently shook her.
She didn’t awaken.
“Now.” He put command into his voice.
Her lids slowly opened, and those incredible blue eyes focused on him. For a moment, he could only stare at her, taking in those wide intelligent eyes, that thick auburn hair. His entire body clenched, and he fought the fury pounding through him. “Tell me you were not in a dreamworld meeting Drake.” He’d always felt it when she opened a dreamworld. Somehow. The very air changed around him from calm to menacing. Each. Fucking. Time.
She faltered, and the lazy smile of welcome spreading across her face stopped midway. Her eyes widened as she no doubt caught his mood, and she scrambled to sit up, pulling the blankets to her. Bruises still marred her pale face from fighting the Kurjan soldier the day before.
“Hope, what were you thinking?” he asked, his voice low and raw.
She blinked once and then twice, coming fully awake. “I was doing my job.”
“Meeting with the enemy is not your job.” He was tired of watching her flounder and put herself in danger. He was furious that she wouldn’t listen to him, and he was just about done with acting like anybody other than exactly who he was. “By the way, we most certainly do not share a father.” His fingers closed around her upper arms and pulled her close. He tried to be gentle, but he felt aggressive. His hand curled around the back of her neck. Her eyes widened, and her gaze dropped to his mouth.
So he gave them what they both wanted and kissed her.
Chapter Twenty-One
Fire lit Hope from within. As Paxton kissed her, he was rough and commanding in a way he’d never been before. Throughout their lives, she’d sensed the barely veiled dominance in him but had figured he’d never let himself lose control, especially with her. She figured deep down he knew she would take another path in life because she really had no choice.
He poured flames down her throat, his hands sweeping her arms, branding every inch of her skin. His growl was rough, and the sound rumbled deep inside her, burning right to her sex. He was wild and it was dangerous. She was on fire. Her control fled while his seemed to solidify.
Those flames burned through her good intentions to fulfill her duty. And for a moment, a brief, devastating, wild moment, she let herself just feel the aggressiveness in him and the wild response in her.
Paxton was somebody she couldn’t resist. With just his mouth and the slightest touch of his broad hands, he took control of them both, creating a storm of desire that no woman could resist, much less one who cared about him. Who had peered into his soul.
Every nerve ending in her entire body flared awake as if just waiting for the command from Paxton to do so.
His fingers clenched her hips, digging in. Her nipples hardened within her tiny camisole, but the material wasn’t rough enough for what she needed.
What did she need? For once, she wasn’t sure.
He leaned back and bit her bottom lip. The sharp sting tore through her, shocking her with her response. “Paxton,” she breathed, her panties dampening.
His smile was wicked. “I’m done waiting for you to figure things out.” Then his lips were on hers again, his tongue taking her mouth like he owned it. Blood pounded in her clit, and she moaned, letting him tilt her head to the side and go deeper with his conquest.
He leaned into her, his body one long line of solid steel. The muscles and raw strength in his arms thrilled her.
“Paxton,” she moaned against his mouth, and he kissed her deeper, making her forget whatever it was she’d been about to say.
He took complete control in a way he never had before. She softened against him, unable to do anything else against such a hard body, and then reached up for his thick hair, tangling her fingers in the strands and holding tight. He pulled back to let her breathe and scraped his teeth along her jawline, wandering down to bite the soft skin where her neck met her shoulder. Her entire body shuddered, and she gasped, sliding her hands down to clutch his biceps. Her hands were too small to wrap around them, and even that thrilled her.
She had to think.
Need uncoiled inside her, hot and furious and demanding. This was wrong. He wasn’t for her, but she had never needed anything more in her entire life.
Her body contradicted her mind, and she caressed his neck. His tough-guy, strong, impossibly warm neck. She should stop this.
She threw that thought away as those sharp teeth scraped dangerously along her clavicle, and then she felt the sting of a bite right above her breast. That sting zinged through her entire body as sharp as any laser bullet, shooting right to her sex. She whimpered and tried to get closer. He was pure, raw heat and coiling danger, and he was somebody new and different.
Or maybe it was just Paxton fully unleashed.