Black and Blue (Otherworld Assassin #2)(2)
Author: Gena Showalter

The force of her beauty hit him. Followed by her identity. His mouth dried the moment he realized he was lusting after none other than Evangeline Black. Michael’s youngest daughter. Early twenties, lovely . . . and completely off-limits.

Blue had known she would be here, among the rich and famous, celebrating eighty years of peace between humans and otherworlders. Earlier, Michael had shown him a picture of her.

Look out for her, but don’t touch her, he’d said, his tone sharp. I didn’t get to be a father to her while she was growing up, so I’m making up for it now. She is never to be a conquest.

Defile the offspring of a man he respected? Never.

In the picture, she appeared innocent and pretty, so he had no problem assuring Michael of his pure intentions. No problem meaning what he said.

In person, she appeared wanton and gorgeous, and Blue was having trouble catching his breath. Defile? With pleasure.

Apparently, she spent most of her life overseas with her mother, and the last two years secretly training with her father. Tonight was her final lesson. Michael wanted her dropped into the middle of a mission, with only the barest of facts, having only seen photos of her team.

“Oh, no. My mother just spotted me,” Noelle muttered, reminding him of her presence. “I’ve got to hide before she corners me and tells me all the ways I’ve disappointed her. Join me?”

“I’ve got to say hello to Michael’s daughter,” he said, tearing his gaze from the dark-haired girl.

Noelle cringed. “I think you’ve got it worse. Good luck.”

Worse than the devil’s twin sister? “Wait.” He took his girlfriend by the shoulders. Exactly. You have a girlfriend. Remember that. “You know her?”

“We met the last time I was in Westminster. Let’s just say she’s unforgettable and leave it at that. Why ruin the surprise?”

Unforgettable wasn’t a bad thing. “Outsassed you, did she? Well, I doubt I’ll have the same problem. I happen to know how to charm the ladies.” A flicker of guilt accompanied the words. If she only knew half the things he’d done . . .

She grinned with wicked anticipation and gave him a little push in Miss Black’s direction. “Go charm her, then. Give her everything you’ve got. You can tell me all about it when we get home—after you’ve nursed the Blue Ranger and his berry good friends back to health.”

No one could be as bad as Elle was leading him to believe.

As she raced away to avoid her mother, Blue homed in on Evangeline. He felt like a hunter who’d just spotted the tastiest of prey. At her side, he noted the scent of honey and almonds wafting from her. The fire in his veins sizzled and smoked.

“—bloody hot,” she was saying to the pretty blonde, her accented voice rich and smooth, as much of a caress as her laughter. “I mean it. At least ten guys have mentally stripped you out of your knickers. I’m only surprised you haven’t been ticketed for indecent exposure.”

The girl giggled behind her hand.

Seizing the opportunity, he said, “Miss Black. I’m—”

She sucked in a breath, the action so inherently sexual his body responded as though she’d stuffed her hand down his pants and gripped his length. Careful.

As her smile melted away, she turned in his direction. Their gazes collided, locked, and he experienced an instant shock of awareness. Her eyes were a rich, chocolate brown, and the longer she looked at him, the more her pupils dilated.

A sign of attraction.

I’m in trouble.

“I know who you are,” she finally said, her tone giving nothing away. “You’re Corbin Blue. Breaker of spines and hearts. A legend on and off the field. And an absolute, total tool.”

A tool. As in strong, reliable. Able to fix any problem. He would assume that’s what she meant.

He ran his tongue over his teeth. Charm. Taking her hand—not that she’d offered—he pressed a kiss against her knuckles. Her skin was surprisingly calloused and scarred, yet deliciously warm, and for the first time in his life he actually tingled from contact with another person . . . as if he were a woman overdosing on sappy romantic comedies. He mentally berated himself.

“Please,” he gritted. “Call me Blue.”

Rose infused her cheeks as she jerked from his hold. “I suppose you may call me Evie.”

Formal tone, but oh, that blush . . . or was it a flush of deeper attraction?

Either way, instant hard-on.

You can’t go there with this one, remember? Even though Blue was only using Noelle, he had never cheated on her—except when the job had demanded it. He wouldn’t start now. Especially with Michael’s precious.

Eyes narrowed, Evie hitched her thumb at him and said to the blonde, “He’s exactly the type of male I warned you about. Lovely on the outside, poison on the inside. Stay far, far away.”

Irritation was like a hook in his chest, snagging several other darker emotions. She didn’t even know him and yet she dared speak about him like that? You read this one wrong. No way she’s attracted.

The little blonde was a few years younger than Evie, probably no more than eighteen, as well as shorter, curvier, and not nearly as confident. She peered down at the black-and-white-tiled floor as she said, “Wonderful to meet you, Mr. Blue. I’m Claire.”

He arched a brow at Evie.

She elaborated, her expression softening. “Claire is my sister. From my mum’s side, not my father’s.”

Clearly she adored the girl.

He reached for Claire’s hand, but Evie moved between them, blocking him. Taking Claire by the shoulders, she said, “Darling, I’m having a chat-up with Blue, so I’m going to leave you for a few minutes. Will you be all right?”

Claire offered a wide, assuring smile. “Yes, of course.”

After kissing the girl on the cheek, Evie turned and hooked her arm through Blue’s, practically dragging him through the throng of laughing, chatting partygoers. The heat she radiated seeped through the fabric of his tux, stroking his skin. Felt good. Too good. He swallowed a mouthful of curses.

“I’m going to do you a solid and always be honest with you, no matter how cruel it may seem,” she said, nodding to an acquaintance across the room. “I’ll start with this little nugget of truth. I’m not interested in making nice with you. We’re here for a reason. Let’s get on with it and go our separate ways.”

It took him a moment to realize she was serious. Women just didn’t talk to him that way. They fawned. They flirted. They teased. “Did I kill your cat or something, and just don’t remember? What’s your problem with me?”