He was beautiful. She had tried not to think too much about him, because she wouldn’t be able to stay away if she did. Now she couldn’t stop staring.
He seemed to have lost the business suits and with them, any sign of the businessman she’d thought him to be. He looked lean and mean—a hunter, dark and dangerous, and every cell in her body yearned toward him.
It took a physical effort to come to a halt in front of the desk when all she wanted to do was crawl straight over it and into his lap. For a moment, she seriously considered it, then she glanced into his face; it was cold, stern, and remote.
Maybe Graham had it wrong and Christian just saw her as some sort of responsibility. Or he’d thought the whole thing through and decided he did hate her after all. Because she was a demon. Horror flashed through her as she searched his expression.
“Graham said you needed help.” Christian spoke into the silence between them, and she jumped.
“Sorry?”
“You have a problem you believe I can help you with.”
“I do?” She shook her head to get her brain working but couldn’t shift it from the idea of Christian hating her. “Do you hate me?” The question popped out before she could stop it.
He frowned. “What?”
“You’ve thought about it haven’t you? About me, I mean, and you’ve decided that I’m some sort of evil demon monster, and you hate me.”
“Tara,” he said, “what are you talking about?”
“You and me. You told me to come to you, but now I have, and you’re so cold, and it must be because you’ve realized I’m a monster, like the monsters that killed your family.” She blinked, her eyes stinging. “I’m sorry, I’ll go.”
He knocked back his chair and rose to his feet. “Stay where you are.”
Tara had been about to turn tail and run but, at his words, she stopped. Her eyes ate him up, her fingers itched with the need to reach out and touch him.
He walked around the desk. As always, the grace of his movements filled her with awe. He stopped in front of her and her eyes searched his face. His expression was no longer blank, but wary.
He reached for her, his hands gliding across her shoulders, and pulled her to him.
Tara stood on tiptoes and raised her face for his kiss, and his lips came down on hers with a savage desperation.
She lost herself in his kiss. Gave up her mind to him, but she needed more. Her hands slid to his hips, up over his lean belly and rib cage. They came to rest against his chest, and the muscles contracted under her touch. She dug her nails into the softness of his shirt, and he went still above her. For a moment, he held her against him, then his hands dropped from her shoulders, and he took a step back.
“Did that feel like I hate you?” His voice held a ragged edge. She licked her lips to get the last taste of him and shook her head.
“No, it’s just Graham said—then you seemed so cold and you have every reason to hate me.”
“I have no reason to hate you.”
“Maybe.”
“I was perhaps a little disappointed that you’d only come to me because you have a problem. You do have a problem, don’t you, Tara?”
“Oh, God! It’s Chloe. Christian, you have to help us. She’s—”
“Tara, slow down and sit down.” Instead of leading her to the chair by the desk, he took her hand and led her to the black leather sofa. He pushed her gently down. “There,” he said, taking the seat next to her. “Tell me.”
Tara took a deep breath, tried to sort out the facts. “You remember my friend Chloe? You met her that night at my apartment.”
“Of course.”
“Well, she’s disappeared. She hasn’t been home, and she’s not answering her cell phone. Nothing.”
“When did you last see her?”
“That night when we left for Yorkshire.”
He frowned. “Does anyone else know about this?”
“Yes, Jamie. He was supposed to see her the night we came back, but she didn’t turn up. He’s been everywhere he can think of, spoken to anybody who might know or have seen her, and it’s as if she’s vanished.”
Christian leaned back on the sofa, his head resting on the cushions, and stared into space.
“What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking that it’s unlikely your friend’s disappearance is anything to do with the other things going on in your life right now. But I don’t like coincidences and the timing is…suspicious.” He pulled out his phone and punched in a number. “Piers?”
Tara listened while he explained what had happened and finished with, “Can you find out if there was anything going on around there four nights ago?”
He put the phone down and turned to her. “He’ll get right back to me. We’ll wait, see if he comes up with anything, then decide our next move.”
“Thank you.”