Anger sharpened her words. But who wouldn’t be pissed after getting shot?
He reached for her.
She flinched away from him.
Cain’s jaw clenched. Right. Just because he’d saved her, just because she could handle the flames, didn’t mean her opinion of him would be any different from anybody else’s. She’d still look at him and see the freak who could burn.
The man who touched hell.
“I’m just checking your wound,” he snapped. Like she hadn’t been kissing him before. Rubbing her body against his. Acting like she wanted him.
But they’d had an audience then, and maybe every moan, every stroke of her body against his had been nothing more than an act.
The woman is one fine actress. He’d have to remember that. She’d just been playing a role.
When he’d been fucking desperate to take her. To finally be with someone who could handle his power.
Her hand lifted slowly and slid over her stomach. The bottom of the shirt had been burned away. The tranq had caught her in the stomach, he knew that, but her hand slid over smooth, unblemished skin.
Not that the tranq ever left much of a mark, anyway. Wyatt had designed it to be a subtle but painful attack. Easier to take out prey and then deny any action later.
“What was it?” she asked as her fingers pressed against her stomach. Smooth flesh. Pale.
Lickable.
“A tranq.” His voice sounded like ragged gravel, so he cleared his throat and tried again. “A special mix Wyatt made. It can knock out even the strongest paranormals.” And kill the weakest.
Good thing she hadn’t been weak.
What was she?
“Can you create the fire?” he asked because maybe—his heart raced faster—maybe she was just like him. He’d always been an outcast in the paranormal world. A freak, even among the monsters. But if she was like him, if he wasn’t alone …
She shook her head. “N-no.” Her gaze darted around the room. “What happened to Wyatt?”
“He burned.”
Another flinch from her.
Why wasn’t she looking at him? Cain caught her chin in his hand and made her focus on him. “Forget him. He deserved a fast trip to hell.” Did she have any idea how many paranormals that bastard had tortured? Cain had heard their screams. He knew.
“What about the others?” Eve asked. “Did they get out? Did they—”
“A lot of them did.” Not everyone, not all the paranormals and not all the humans. Those explosions had been timed too perfectly.
Wyatt hadn’t minded killing his lab rats or his own research teams.
And the guy thought Cain was the monster? Wyatt was as sadistic and twisted as any killer could possibly be.
Her breath rushed out. “I have to—I have to call this story in—I need to tell—”
He remembered what Wyatt had said about her. Eve wasn’t another scientist out to poke and prod her prey. She was a reporter. A woman after a story. I won’t be her story. “You’re not telling anyone anything.”
She pulled away from him.
“Not yet,” he said, trying to soften his words. “Not until it’s safer.” Not until he’d had his fill of her.
She’s afraid of me. So what? Everyone is. He could work past her fear. He had to.
He’d been held captive for too damn long.
And he wanted her too much.
“You can stand the fire,” he whispered.
Her gaze came back to his. Still laced with fear, but … was that a flash of awareness in her eyes? “Yes.”
His stare dropped to her lips. He wanted to taste her again. Cain leaned forward, bringing his mouth closer to hers. Eve didn’t pull back.
Did she—hell, did she lean toward him? He sure thought that she did.
He pressed his lips against hers. He wanted to ravage her mouth. To take and taste and hear her moan. But he touched her lightly with his lips, carefully … at first.
Don’t scare her any more. Not yet.
His control was razor thin. He needed to woo her while he could.
Her lips parted beneath his. Still not pulling away. Then her tongue came out and licked against his.
Fuck.
That control got even thinner. “I want you.” Guttural. His cock was so full and aching—from one damn kiss—that he hurt.
He couldn’t remember his last lover. He couldn’t picture her in his mind. The lovers he’d taken before hadn’t mattered to him. He hadn’t let them matter. They couldn’t get close to him. Couldn’t find out what he really was.
Bodies in the dark. Pleasure. Sex.
That was all his past had been.
The light of dawn streaked through the cabin. It wouldn’t be sex in the shadows. Eve wouldn’t be a woman that he forgot.
Her gaze held his.
“If you don’t want me, you’d better tell me to stop now.” While he could still stop. Because in a few more seconds …
Take her.
There’d be no turning back.
Her lips were red. Slick. Her breath came faster. But …
But she shook her head.
He pulled away from her, every move so painful that he wanted to rage.
“Your eyes …” Her whisper.
And he knew that his control was breaking. He’d used too much power back at Genesis. He couldn’t let the beast out and expect to instantly shove him back in the cage.
Want her. Need her. She could soothe him. Make him forget hell.
Except she was pulling away from him. Rising. Stumbling toward the door on the right. The bathroom.
Leaving him aching. Hungry. Aroused.
Saying no.
When the door shut behind her, the beast broke free.
What in the world was happening?
Eve stared at herself in the mirror. Was she really about to have sex with Cain? A man she barely knew?
A man who’d made her wet with just a kiss.
She twisted the faucet and sent a burst of cold water pouring into the sink. She cupped her hands and threw a cold spray on her face. The water rinsed off the ash and who the hell knew what else from her skin. She tossed away her clothes. They were ruined anyway, and if she was doing this, then she was damn well doing it right.
Adrenaline pumped through her blood. She could remember the fire. That jerkoff Wyatt. Screams and death.
And Cain. He’d held her. Gotten her out of that nightmare.
She’d wanted him before he’d saved her.
She still wanted him.
They were in the middle of nowhere. Alone. With a big bed just waiting for them.
Why couldn’t she want him? Why shouldn’t she want him?
She kicked away her clothes. Took a minute to survey herself in the mirror.
There was no sound from the other room. He’d better not have changed his mind. A girl just needed a little time to try and get sexy after an all-out hell battle. Was that such a bad thing? Not like it was a crazy urge.
Because … he mattered. She wanted it to be right. Special.
He’d be grand lover number four in her life. Didn’t that deserve special fanfare? Eve figured the situation at least called for some non-singed clothes and a non-ash-covered body.
She turned back toward the door. Put her hand on the wood. The drug wasn’t making her body feel limp anymore. No, limp was the last thing she felt right then.
Her nipples were tight. Her sex quivering.
Because Cain was waiting on her.
She opened the door. Naked, she walked to him.
Cain whirled around when the door squeaked open. His face was hard, more menacing than she’d seen it before, and his strong jaw had locked.