He felt her stiffen, as though that information had somehow surprised her, or upset her. The faintest scent of anger, a heat more like a volcano preparing to erupt than the embers of pain, drifted to him.
“That long?” Her voice was faint, disappointed.
Without waiting for the doors to fully open, she stepped into the penthouse, obviously ignoring every rule of entry she had ever been taught.
Shaking his head, Navarro stepped in front of her with a sharp growl, his gaze slicing back at her in warning and, thankfully, bringing her to a stop as he moved ahead of her.
“Anger is no excuse for ignoring the rules,” he snapped.
The thing about Mica? A man had to take control immediately. Begin as he intended to go on. She could push right over anyone who thought she should be spoiled or treated gently.
“Being male is no excuse for arrogance, but I’ve noticed Breed males have it in abundance,” she retorted without an ounce of the sweetness displayed in her voice.
She would make any man a hell of a woman, mate or wife. She wasn’t weak, but neither was she a shrew. She could be gentle, she could soft, or she could be an explosive, as unstable as hell in the wrong hands.
She would be a handful, Navarro had always known that, but there was a part of him that looked forward to the challenge. A part of him that was glad she wasn’t his mate, while another part mourned it.
Thankfully, so far, as he seemed to be safe of the dangers of mating; he refused to marry, and he wouldn’t allow himself the convenience of a mistress or a steady lover.
He was created for deception, created to deceive and to lie, and trusting a man, or a Breed, created and trained for such things, wouldn’t be easy for any woman. But even more, he was one of only a few such creations, and his gifts, or his curse, was needed for the survival of the Breeds at large. Mating would change that. It would change him. And Navarro wasn’t certain if he was ready for that.
He knew well what he couldn’t have, no matter the desires that haunted him in the darkest hours of the night. And this woman, sharp and so very prickly on the outside, heated and warm on the inside, was the very thing he couldn’t allow himself.
He ignored the arrogance comment and opted instead to draw the sub-shot burst from beneath his jacket before checking the suite carefully.
Cougar would be back soon with the equipment to ensure there were no electronic or video bugs, while Navarro knew Jonas was currently working on a plan to get Mica out of the city as secretly as possible.
The team they had bypassed earlier wasn’t the only one sent for her, scouring the city to locate her even now.
Hell no.
At last count, there were twelve teams searching high and low for Mica. Twenty-four men determined to take her. There were surface-to-air, handheld missiles in the city, and plans to waylay anyone who tried to drive her out or any heli-jet that dared to fly her out. If they could catch sight of it.
Find a hole and stay put, Jonas had warned them, until he found a way to get her back to Sanctuary or to Haven. Keep her under wraps. Keep her safe. And do it all while trying like hell to stay out of her pants had been Navarro’s warning to himself.
Unfortunately, the last part was the very order he was truly afraid would never be obeyed.
Getting in Mica’s pants was one of the first things on his list of things to do while Jonas and Stygian searched for an escape route out of the city. He didn’t have to change to fuck her.
He almost winced. No, he could never fuck her. A woman like Mica, a man, no matter his species, could only make love to such a woman, whether he allowed himself to love her or not.
And this would be his only chance to have her; it might well be his last chance to know exactly what he was leaving behind. It was time for him to go before nature caught up with him and gave him a mate. It was time to return to the life of lies and illusion he’d been a part of before taking the mission to search for Jonas’s scientist.
Besides, Mica was a weakness that could get them both killed.
CHAPTER 2
Standing beneath the steaming hot spray of the penthouse shower and allowing it to wash away the bone-deep chill that had seeped inside her, Mica finally felt she might live rather than die from the cold.
She hated the cold. She hated winter. She hated having to feel the chill of it or to look out the window and see the snow swirling. That had made the night worse than it would have been otherwise, that bone-deep cold. She’d been terrified she would never be warm again.
With the warmth came a determination to ignore the danger she knew was also swirling outside the doors of the hotel. She closed her eyes and forced herself to slip into the darkness there, to create that wall between her and the reality of the memories that threatened to take hold.
That whole head-in-the-sand attitude never failed to make Cassie crazy when they were together.
Mica loved ignoring the fact that she didn’t have a real life. That she was always surrounded by danger, Breeds, and the realization that at any time the Breeds’ enemies could strike out at her instead of her friends.
They finally had.
A hard, rough breath shuddered through her as she pushed back the knowledge again. It was harder this time. Of course, she hadn’t faced another night quite like tonight either.
Yep, she was an ostrich. Feathers, plume, head in the sand, whole nine yards.
Well, except those long bird legs. She still had the short legs. But the rest of it. Yes indeed, just list her name with the feathered genera of the world, because she wasn’t about to open her eyes and accept reality anytime soon.
She’d just put that little thing on her to-do list for next year, maybe.
“Are you okay in there?”
Mica jumped, startled to hear his voice so close, just outside the frosted glass of the shower door.
“I’m fine. Go away.”
She needed just a few more minutes to assure herself, to convince herself she wasn’t here standing beneath the pouring hot water because she had just spent hours in the driving rain running from Breed enemies. After all, she wasn’t a Breed, right? She was as human as they came, and no one could say any different.
“Go away? Mica, my feelings might be hurt. Are you certain you don’t need your back washed? Or perhaps your front?” He was clearly amused, the exotic edge of his voice stroking over her senses.
God, she loved that little hint of an accent. Just a hint, one was never certain it was really there, but the sound of it just stroked across her senses like an erotic caress.
“You’d have to have feelings first, Navarro. And I’m able to wash my back, and my front, perfectly on my own.” A feminine sniff of disdain met his suggestion, though she could feel her heart trying to race in excitement.
This wasn’t the first time Navarro had made such a comment, but they never failed to steal her breath.
She couldn’t help it. Unlike many other Breeds, there was simply something about Navarro that she couldn’t force herself to ignore.
Or perhaps she didn’t want to ignore it. The excitement, the sense of wonder, the surge of aroused adrenaline were a pleasure in and of themselves that she seemed to be becoming addicted to.
“You’re wounding my heart, Amaya,” he drawled. “I believe I may have to come up with some punishment in retaliation.”
One of these days, she was going to ask him exactly what that word meant. She knew it was Japanese, but she hadn’t yet forced herself to learn the meaning of it. If she learned it simply meant friendship, or some kind of child, her ego might be irreparably stripped.