Hostage to Pleasure

Ashaya broke the connection with the frantic speed of experience, knowing she was only patching up the cracks, only delaying the inevitable… but she didn’t want to kill her twin. Because no matter what else she’d done, Amara had upheld the bonds of sisterhood-she’d never revealed Ashaya’s secrets.

Feeling psychically battered, she raised her head to find Dorian scowling at her. “Your eyes just bled to pure black,” he said, looking at her with a quiet intensity that reminded her of the predator he was.

“I didn’t expect you to threaten me,” she said, but couldn’t stifle the urge to ask, “Is Keenan still safe? You haven’t had any reports of problems?” She didn’t care what it betrayed, she had to know her baby was okay.

“He’s fine-I checked. Cell phones are functioning again.”

“Thank you.” She wanted to beg for more information, but swallowed the need. To know too much would be the same as going to see him-she’d lead Amara right to his door.

Dorian continued to stare at her. “Were you playing with me?”

“What?”

“The crack about the natural death.”

She didn’t know how to answer him. So she told the truth. “You weren’t being serious. Neither was I.”

He blew out a breath. “I’m sorry I snarled.” When she just stared at him, too surprised to respond, his expression turned into a scowl. “How much DNA do you need?”

She blinked, staring into the extraordinary blue of his eyes. He was so beautiful it seemed impossible that he should exist. “Aren’t you curious as to why I want it?”

“To see my abnormal genetic structure.”

Her guard immediately went up-he was being far too cooperative. “Yes,” she said warily. “I want to see why you are as you are.”

“Why not steal my DNA? Easy enough to come by.”

“Because,” she said, not trusting the strange light in his eyes, “as telepaths don’t cross certain ethical boundaries, neither do I. And I just need a minute fraction. Give me a moment.”

Making a quick trip to her room, she grabbed the small scientific kit she’d found hidden in a side pocket of her pack-Zie Zen knew her well-and returned to her previous position. “A slide,” she explained to the cat who’d waited suspiciously patiently for her. “It’s the only one in the kit, so I’ll have to get it right first time. A drop of blood would probably work best-white blood cells ‘show’ better to my mental eye.”

“I don’t feel like cutting myself.” That strange light glimmered brighter. “But I will… for a price.”

Freezing, she returned the slide to the tool kit. “I’m not that curious.”

“Yes, you are.”

Yes, she was. It was why she was a scientist. “I have nothing to negotiate with.”

“I told you, Shaya,” he said, eyes grazing over her lips, causing an almost painful tightness in her stomach, “my cat wants to know what you taste like.” A slow feline smile. “And since you’re Psy, it’s no skin off your back to give up a kiss. Just a primitive animal thing after all. Deal?”

“I knew your cooperation was too good to be true.” And that apology was too confusing to even think about.

A grin that creased his cheeks with devastating charm. “I’m a cat, sugar. What did you expect?”

She decided she’d have to research leopards, learn more about their behavior. But one thing she knew-they were highly intelligent. “I want the blood first.” She didn’t allow herself to think about her end of the bargain.

“Don’t trust me?”

“No.”

Another sharp grin and then, to her shock, a knife was in his hand. He pricked a finger and held it over the slide she hurriedly readied. A single drop and she closed it. To take the mental snap-shot, she’d have to focus on the drop for a long period of time, until her brain saw through the cell walls to the nuclei, to the strands of DNA twisting within.

Dorian let her put the slide back into the tool kit and close the lid before he said, “Now, pay up.”

Her heart thudded, her shields began to unravel… and Amara’s presence pushed heavily against the psychic walls of her mind. But she didn’t tell him to stop.

His lips pressed over hers.

And her rotting foundations collapsed around her feet. For a second, she thought Amara was in her mind again, but no, this chaos was acting as another kind of anchor, another kind of wall-her twin was being held back, shoved out. A flash fire second of thought and then even thought was lost.

His taste was inside her mouth, a dark and richly masculine thing at odds with the sheer beauty of him. Protected by the strange, twisting, chaotic shield that blocked Amara, she broke every rule and savored the experience. When his tongue swept against hers, she felt her throat lock. He did it again. Shuddering, she dared explore him in return. His growl poured into her mouth, making her nerve endings sizzle.

He was the one who broke the kiss. Blinking, she tried to steady her breathing. But his taste lingered on her lips and all she could think was that she wanted more.

“I can smell something.” His face went quiet, hunting still. “An intruder.”

Ashaya, what are you doing? Why can’t I see it?