The Darkest Kiss (Riley Jenson Guardian 6)

He stopped when there was little more than an arm's length between us. His scent swirled around me, soft and spicy.

"How have you been, Riley?" he said quietly, the lilt of Ireland caressing his voice, sending my already erratic pulse into overdrive.

"Fine, considering. How have you been?" God, we were so polite it was sickening - especially considering all I wanted to do was strip him and make love to him. Right here, right now.

It seems the leash had well and truly broken on my hormones.

"I've been keeping myself busy." He paused, and just for a second, emotion fired his eyes, making them burn as fiercely as the desire that continued to flare unchecked between us. What that emotion was, I couldn't say. As usual, the shields slammed down before I could really identify it. "I heard about you and Kellen. I'm sorry it didn't work out."

I snorted softly, and couldn't help the slight edge in my voice as I said, "You know I'm not believing that, Quinn, because you did everything in your damn power to ensure Kellen and I never got together."

He raised a hand, as if to touch my face, then stopped inches away, pausing long enough that I felt the heat of his fingers, then let his arm fall again. Part of me regretted that. Part of me was thankful.

One touch was not what I needed right now, even if my whole body ached with a need that totally refuted it.

"You made your choice, Riley. In the end, I respected it."

"Because you had no other option." I took a deep breath and released it slowly. "Look, I don't want to stand here and rehash the past."

I don't want to redo us. Don't want to deal with any more pain. Just go, just leave, before it all starts up again and I end up in an even bigger mess.

He didn't leave, of course. Whether he'd actually heard my thoughts or not, and whether he was simply ignoring them, I couldn't say. I wasn't consciously trying to use telepathy, but he and I had a link that went beyond psi-talents. So often in the past, he'd made comments that suggested he was reading more of my thoughts than he would ever admit, but he'd never really confirmed or denied it. The only admission he'd ever given was that our sharing blood had allowed us a deeper connection than was usual, and that he could read my thoughts whenever I was sick or in the midst of lovemaking.

Any lovemaking, not just him and me.

That was just one of the things that had torn us apart. That and him trying to change the very essence of what I was.

He studied me, his dark gaze assessing. As if I were some fragile animal he didn't want to spook. I would have laughed if it wasn't so true.

After a moment, he asked, "Would you like a drink?"

"Just a lemonade. I'm actually working a case."

"Oh?" He snagged two drinks from a passing waiter, and handed the lemonade to me. I took the glass, careful not to touch him. The heat from his fingers hit mine regardless, and a tremor ran through my body.

"Yeah," I said, glad my voice sounded normal when my insides were anything but. God, after everything this vampire had done to me, you'd think I'd be over the sight of him. But no, my ditzy hormones were acting like I was a pubescent pup going through her first moon dance. "We think we've got a bakeneko on the loose."

He raised dark eyebrows. "Now there's a creature I've not heard of in a while."

"So you do know of them?" I took a sip of the drink. The fizzy liquid did little to ease the dryness in my throat.

"They're rare. If there's one in Melbourne, you've got real problems."

"Tell me about it," I muttered. "The bitch has killed five people already."

"That's definitely not a good sign." He hesitated, then said, "Come sit at my table, and I'll tell you what I know."

"What about your partner?"

The smile that touched one corner of his lips was sexy, and yet at the same time, almost sad.

"I didn't come with anyone."

"Why not? You're an eligible bachelor who has women falling at his feet and who never has to pay for it, aren't you?"

His soft laugh sent little shivers of delight traipsing up my spine. Good Lord, I had it bad.

"Trust you to quote my own damn words at me," he said.