Rage & Killian (5 page)

“The computer files he claims to have taken before the lab was destroyed.”

“Ah.”

“We need to go to my place.”

He studied her in surprise. The last thing he expected was an invitation to her private lair.

“Why?”

She nodded toward the computer on the desk. “Right now I’m being blocked. I can access the auction, but I can’t break through the firewall to get a lock on who is responsible. I need to run a trace.”

“And you have the equipment to do that?”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I have the equipment.”

Okay, it was a stupid question.

“Do you want to take a vehicle?”

“No.” She gave a decisive shake of her head. “It’s not far from here. I’ll call you when I’ve found something.”

“No.”

She frowned. “No?”

He moved to stand directly in front of her. “I’m going with you.”

“Why?” She squared her shoulders, instantly defensive. “Do you think I’m going to try and escape?”

Rage muttered a curse, reaching out to grasp her shoulders as he glared down at her wary expression.

“I told you that you’re free to go wherever you want,” he snapped. Christ. He was tired of being treated as if he was a monster. “I’m asking for your help, not holding you captive.”

She scowled, refusing to apologize. “Then why do you want to go with me?”

“Because I’m curious,” he said. “I want to see where you live.”

“And?” she prompted, easily sensing he wasn’t giving her the whole truth.

He reached out to cup her cheek in his palm, his thumb brushing her lower lip. “And my cat wants to be near you.”

She trembled, her eyes darkening with excitement as her own cat responded to his touch.

“Rage,” she choked out, shocked by his blunt honesty.

His lips twisted. She wasn’t any more shocked than he was.

“You asked,” he said.

With a sharp motion, she was jerking away from his hand, her arms folding over her waist.

“Do you have to flirt with every female?”

“I would usually say yes, but this isn’t flirting.”

Her scowl deepened. “Then what is it?”

Hmm. Now that was the question, wasn’t it?

“Hell if I know,” he growled, his animal restlessly prowling beneath the surface. The beast was growing agitated by the space Lucie insisted on putting between them. “I’m hoping you can figure it out.”

She sucked in a deep breath, the musky scent that filled the air revealing she was as eager as he was to get up close and personal.

Unlike him, however, she wasn’t about to give in to temptation.

At least not yet.

“Let’s go,” she grumbled, pausing long enough to shut down the computer before she was leaving the library and heading out of the house.

Rage was swiftly at her side, his gaze scanning the darkness for any hint of trouble.

As far as he knew, there was no one who could suspect why he was in New Orleans. Or want to target him. But it was his nature to be on guard.

Especially when he was protecting this particular female.

If someone actually tried to harm her…his jaw clenched. The unfortunate bastards would discover exactly why his mother had named him Rage.

They traveled in silence, surprisingly headed toward the French Quarter. Somehow he’d expected her to have an isolated house on the fringes of town. Instead, she led him directly to Royal Street, pointing toward the house shrouded in shadows.

“That’s it.”

Rage nearly fell over his feet as he caught sight of the grand mansion.

Built on a corner lot, the graceful three-storied house was framed with towering oak trees. The old bricks had been painted a warm cream and there were covered galleries on both the front and the side of the house that ran the length of the porch, with lacy iron railings.

It was graceful and posh, and whispered of days gone past.

Just how much did hacking pay?

“Yep, this is it,” she muttered, pulling a key out of her pocket to lead him inside the black and white tiled foyer.

He had a brief glimpse of an overhead chandelier and a hallway that led toward an inner courtyard before she was jogging up the polished wooden staircase. They bypassed the formal living room and entered what he supposed had once been called the “parlor.”

She flipped on the lights, giving him the full impact of the wide room with Corinthian columns that towered toward the fifteen-foot ceilings that still possessed the original medallions. There was a priceless Parisian rug spread across the worn floorboards and furniture that looked as if it’d come out of a European palace.

Once again, he was struck by the elegant sense of history that she’d so carefully mixed with the comforts of home.

“Wow,” he breathed, strolling to the center of the room.

“What?” she demanded.

“It’s beautiful.”

She blushed, as if embarrassed by his genuine admiration. Then pulling an envelope out of her back pocket, she moved to pull aside an antique table to reveal a safe hidden in the wall. Quickly she had it opened and the envelope stored inside.

“The wine cooler is fully stocked,” she told him as she straightened, nodding toward the heavily scrolled bar that was built in beneath the mirror that ran the entire length of one wall. “Help yourself.”

Rage swiftly moved to block her path as she headed back to the door. “Where are you going?”

She blinked in surprise. “My office is over the garage.”

“I want to go with you.”

“I…” She swallowed her protest as she met his steady gaze, no doubt seeing his cat’s fierce refusal to be left behind. “Fine. Follow me.”

To the ends of the world
, a voice whispered in the back of his mind.

They left the parlor and headed deeper into the house, at last coming to the end of a hallway where they were blocked by a heavy steel door.

Rage arched a startled brow as she placed her hand on an electronic scanner and then leaned forward to type in a complex code. Only then did she pull out an old-fashion key to open the final lock and push the door open.

“You expecting a zombie invasion?” he teased as they stepped into the narrow room that was nearly overwhelmed by the stacks of high-tech equipment and monitors that looked far too sophisticated and expensive to be sold at Best Buy.

She shrugged, snapping on the overhead lights before moving to settle in front of the nearest computer.

“Not everyone is happy with the work I do.” She glanced over her shoulder to toss him a startling smile. “And there is always the off chance the zombies might show up.”

Rage felt as if he’d just been punched in the gut.

Christ. She had a dimple.

Reeling from the impact of her smile, Rage was barely aware of her rapidly tapping on the keyboard. Not that he would have known what the hell she was doing even if he’d been paying attention. Still, it came as a shock when she was rising to her feet and studying him with a quizzical expression.

“That should do it,” she told him.

He nodded, his gaze lowering to her lips as he remembered her sweet taste of primrose.

“Now what?”

“I’m running the trace. It’s going to take a while,” she said with a shrug. “If you want to go back to the safe house, I’ll call you when I find something.”

He stepped forward, his hand lifting to lightly circle her neck with his fingers. “Are you kicking me out?” he murmured, his thumb resting against her fluttering pulse.

She instinctively tilted back her head, offering him greater access to her throat. “This could take hours,” she cautioned.

His cat rumbled in anticipation. “Good.”

She shivered, her eyes molten gold in the bright overhead lights. “Good?”

“We have some time to get better acquainted,” he informed her.

Before she could react, he bent down to scoop her off her feet, heading back to the main house.

He didn’t know exactly where he was going, but he was sure there had to be a bedroom somewhere. He wasn’t going to stop until he found it.

* * * *

Lucie told herself she should protest. She hated when men thought they could grab her as if they owned her. And she certainly never allowed them to haul her around like she was some helpless doll.

But gazing up at Rage’s achingly familiar face, she knew she didn’t want to protest. Not when her entire body was shuddering with an eager need she couldn’t disguise.

 The fantasy of this male had tantalized, teased, and tormented her for years.

Could she truly live with herself if she didn’t discover if he could actually fulfill her dreams?

Shutting out the tiny voice that warned she wasn’t thinking clearly, she made no move to escape when he entered her private rooms and headed directly for the bed that was arranged next to the bank of windows that overlooked the inner courtyard.

She loved New Orleans, but there were times when she felt trapped by the press of buildings and narrow streets. She liked to be able to open her windows and allow the sunshine to spread over her naked body.

Bending down, Rage gently settled her in the middle of the mattress, staring down at her with eyes that glowed with the heat of his cat.

“I thought you said you wanted to become better acquainted?” she teased.

He stilled, his jaw clenching as he visibly struggled to contain his primitive instincts. His beast was clearly anxious to do more than exchange chitchat.

The knowledge sent a shiver down her spine. Her own cat was equally eager.

Unlike humans, Pantera didn’t always equate sex with some rigid morality. Sometimes it was about warmth, and companionship, and pleasure.

And sometimes it was about being with the one male who stirred her on a soul-deep level.

“Do you want to go back to the parlor?” he asked. “Or if you want, we can go out for a drink.”

She lifted herself on her elbows. “What do you want?”

“You.” His voice was low and rough, his heat brushing over her like a physical caress. “I want you.”

 It was the perfect thing to say.

Holding his gaze, she gave a slow nod. “Then we stay here.”

Easily reading the invitation in her voice, Rage kicked off his boots and yanked his Tulane sweatshirt over his head. Then, unzipping his jeans, he shoved them down to reveal his hard, bronzed body in its full glory.

And it was glorious.

Her mouth went dry as she studied the hard, sculpted muscles that flowed with a fascinating ease. His chest was broad and tapered to a slender waist, with a puma tattoo just below his collarbone. His arms were ripped without unnecessary bulk, and his legs were long and lightly dusted with dark hair.

A perfect male specimen.

Yum.

“A good choice.” A slow, wicked smile curved his lips as he moved to crawl onto the mattress.

“You approve?”

“Oh, I approve.” He lowered his head to press his mouth to a spot just behind her ear. Lucie’s cat purred in pleasure. Who knew a mere kiss could be so erotic? “In fact, I’d be happy to demonstrate just how much I approve.”

“It’s fairly obvious,” she said, pointedly glancing toward his cock that was fully erect. Her mouth watered at the thought of wrapping her lips around that broad head and sucking him deep.

She rarely performed oral sex on men. It seemed too…intimate.

But she desperately wanted a taste of this male.

“I suppose it is,” he agreed in a husky voice, nipping her earlobe. “Christ, I feel like I’ve waited for this moment for my entire life.”

Her breath tangled in her throat at his words, a bittersweet ache clenching her heart. She wanted to believe him. But while she’d dreamed of this male night after night, she wasn’t stupid enough to think that he’d ever given her a second thought.

“You don’t have to say that,” she muttered.

“Say what?”

“That I’m special,” she said. “I know there’s been a lot of females.”

He heaved a sigh as he reached down to slip off her shoes, then with obvious expertise he easily rid her of her jeans and tee.

“Why does everyone assume I’m some sort of player?” he groused, kneeling beside her to run a scorching gaze over her body, now covered in nothing more than a pair of lace panties.

Lucie quivered beneath the hungry gaze. “Because you are?”

“I’ve had a few relationships that I’ll always cherish, but none of them made me feel as if I was going to lose my mind if I couldn’t kiss them.”

Leaning forward, he planted his hands on the mattress as he moved to settle on top of her. She sighed at the sensation of his weight deliciously sinking her into the mattress. Instinctively, she allowed her legs to widen so he could settle between them.

Lowering his head, the raven hair brushed against the puckered tips of her nipples.

“Rage,” she choked out.

His tongue flicked over her nipple, the rough stroke wrenching a moan from her throat.

“It’s your turn, Lucie.”

She scored her nails down the smooth skin of his back. How was she supposed to think when his touch was sending streaks of white-hot pleasure through her?

“My turn for what?” she at last ground out.

He continued to tease her nipple, his cock pressing with flawless precision against her pussy. Oh…yes. It felt good. But she wanted that thick length sinking into her aching body.

“To tell me that I’m not just another male,” he said, stroking a line of kisses between her breasts. “That this is different for you.”

How could he doubt it? She’d never melted from a mere kiss. Or groaned with impatience during foreplay.

And certainly she’d never considered the possibility of handcuffing a male to her bed so he couldn’t escape.

Of course, it seemed better not to share that particular sentiment.

“Your ego is big enough,” she informed him.

Rage abruptly lifted his head, gazing down at her with a smoldering intensity. “You think this is about my ego?”

Her lips parted to give a flippant retort, only to have the words falter beneath the hint of vulnerability in his violet eyes.

Her answer mattered. She wasn’t sure why, but she wasn’t going to deliberately ruin this fragile moment.