He had her on the bed. His body shoved hard against hers. What the hell was he doing?
His back teeth clenched, and he fought through the waves of lust, through the darkness tangling his mind and the need that stole his breath.
“Something’s wrong with you … your eyes. …”
He squeezed his eyes shut and fought to pull back the beast. But he was slipping off the leash. Slipping. Her breath whispered over his face.
“It’s okay,” he lied, and he forced his hand off her hip. Her scent. “I’m in control now.” His fingers gripped the old, dirty covers. Ripped them. His lashes lifted, slowly. Her eyes were on him and she instantly trapped his gaze.
Bed. Jana. Sweet flesh. Hot fire.
“It’s okay,” he said again, growling the words and hoping like hell that he could stay in control. Focus.
What was happening to him? His body was so tight. Ready to explode. And he wanted her more than he wanted breath. Wanted her, open and ready, with the heat blazing around them. No, from them.
His head was going to explode. A hard, fierce pounding thundered at both temples, and a flicker of light danced in the air.
“Jana, it’s going to be all … right.” Her breath sighed out.
He could hold on to his control. He could keep the devil inside. He could—
Jana shouted his name, and Zane blacked out.
“Zane? Zane!”
He’d crashed on top of her. His eyes had flickered in those last few moments, shooting back and forth from green to black, and she’d thought, really thought for a moment there, that he was coming back. Him, Zane, not the demon inside him.
Then his eyes had flashed pitch black.
And he’d slammed into her. No, onto her.
She tried to suck in a deep breath. Tried and failed. Oh, the guy weighed a ton. Of course. And he had her smashed into the lumpy mattress. “Uh, Zane?” She tried tapping his shoulder.
Nothing.
His head was nestled in the crook of her neck. He breathed softly now, the light puffs of air sending a shiver over her each time they touched her sensitive flesh.
Alive, just passed out.
She shifted a bit as she tried to maneuver from underneath him, but the guy was pure muscle. Thick muscle.
Her breath rasped out, and she stared up at the ceiling. “Great. Just great.”
Trapped beneath a demon. Talk about one hell of an ending to her already screwed-up night.
Antonio stared at the fax he’d just received. The woman in the grainy photo didn’t look particularly dangerous. Delicate features, wide eyes. Sexy mouth.
But if he’d learned anything in this business … well, it was that the surface lied.
“Put out an APB for Jana Carter,” he told Officer Penton. The fresh-faced kid stood next to him, watching with narrowed eyes and nervous hands. “This woman is wanted in connection with a series of arsons in New Orleans,” and probably a few in Baton Rouge. “We’ve got intel to suggest that she’s in the area.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Tell the cops out there to be careful. This one is extremely dangerous.”
“She’s armed?”
Didn’t have to be armed to be dangerous. “Yes,” he lied. He seemed to spend most of his days lying. “She’s not to be approached. If she’s spotted, I want to be contacted ASAP.” He held Penton’s stare, driving the point home. “No one is to approach or try to apprehend her without me.” Because if the cops went up against someone like her—
He’d be cleaning up the ashes.
Penton nodded quickly and hurried off to spread the news. Antonio looked down at his watch. Almost noon. It had sure taken Pak a long time to play ball and send that fax. The guy must have been holding out, hoping for word from Zane. Word that hadn’t come.
Where was the demon? Was he alive? No bodies had been found in the Corvette, but that didn’t mean Zane was still breathing. Not with an Ignitor out there. If she’d been letting her fire free, the poor bastard could be surrounded by the flames.
Zane awoke to find himself surrounded. Soft, silken flesh cradled him. A sweet, feminine scent flooded his nostrils. When he opened his eyes, he found himself staring at Jana’s sleeping face.
What the hell?
Her eyes were closed, and her lashes cast dark shadows on her cheeks. Her skin looked even paler today, and he noticed a small, dark mole near the corner of her left eye. Her hair spread on the old pillow behind her, a tangled darkness.
Carefully, slowly, he eased up. Her body was wrapped around his, not under it. One of her arms was around him, while one of his held her waist. Her leg was between his, and her head tilted close to his.
And her shirt was open, revealing black lace and the upper curves of her round br**sts. A line of red scratches marred her smooth flesh.
He sucked in a sharp breath and wondered what was going on. Had he done that? Had he hurt—
“Are you with me?” she asked, her voice a husky whisper.
Hell, yeah. He cleared his throat. How had they gotten in bed? Just what had they done? Her jeans were still on, so were his, so … no sex.
That was a good thing, right? His temples ached like a bitch, and he swallowed, tasting copper on his tongue.
Jana’s lashes lifted, nice and slow, revealing those sexy eyes. Sleepy and dark blue. “Do you even know who I am?”
He licked dry lips. “Trust me, baby, you’re pretty unforgettable.”
Her gaze searched his. “Then what’s my name?”
He let his brows rise as he studied her. “You mean the name you seem to be using again this time? It’s Jana. Jana
Carter.”
She exhaled.
“Now, Jana, why don’t you tell me just what happened.” And why we’re in bed together. Sure, he’d thought about f**king her, but then he’d found out about her little tendency to burn on contact.
“What do you remember?”
“A big rig slamming into us.” My car. Someone would pay. “Some ass**les shooting….” He frowned, struggling to recall and shove past the thick fog in his mind. “I got hit.”
“You were hit twice.” She eased her arm away from him and tried to slide her leg from between his thighs.
A bright, hard, painful memory flashed through his mind.
“Ah, remember that, do you?” She stilled, and her lips quirked just a bit. Not enough to make her dimple flash.
Images flew through his mind. Jana-her mouth red and open. Pinned against the wall. Her arms over her head. Her breath panting out.