Charming the Beast (Purgatory #3)(18)
Author: Cynthia Eden

“That depends.” Holly’s head cocked as she studied him. “Want to tell me why you’ve been drinking from her?”

Chloe turned her wrist over. She tucked her loose hair behind her ear. “It’s not a big deal. I offered my blood to him because he needed it.” The doctor didn’t need to know that Connor had been desperate and that he’d nearly scared her to death when he sank those fangs of his into her flesh.

“Connor…” Holly headed toward him. She put her hand on his shoulder. “You know the risk of taking from a live source. You have to be careful.”

Chloe’s eyes narrowed as she looked from the doc’s hand to Connor’s strong arm, then back again. Well, well, wasn’t the doc awful familiar with her vampire-wolf guard?

Oh, hello…is this jealousy? Because it sure felt like it and she sure didn’t enjoy that feeling.

Chloe jumped from the exam table. “I’ll get dressed now.” Despite the battery of tests, the doc hadn’t given her any answers, at least, not yet. Maybe her blood work would turn up something they could use.

“I am careful,” Connor said to Holly, his voice almost gentle. He’d never used that gentle tone with Chloe.

Jerk.

She grabbed her clothes. Marched to the changing area. If Connor was involved with the pretty doc, then he should not have gone for that kiss in the alley. The kiss had just made Chloe want…things.

You can still love and be loved.

Dammit. What was the doc? A greeting card?

She blinked away the stupid tears that wanted to fill her eyes. She changed behind the screen and heard the thud of footsteps heading to the door. The lab door squeaked when it opened and then closed.

Her spine sagged a bit as she stood behind the screen. She was on her own, Chloe knew that. The Para Agents would use her, then discard her when they were done. She could only hope she didn’t wind up in Purgatory. She had to get away from Eric and his agents. Just vanish. Only then would she truly be safe. Only—

“Are you going to stay back there forever?” Connor asked.

Hell. He hadn’t left. She poked her head out from behind the screen. He was standing near the door, his arms crossed over his chest, one dark brow cocked. His eyes—that gold was just too gorgeous, really—glinted at her. “Because I was starting to worry I would have to go back there and get you.”

She was dressed. Mostly. Chloe slipped into her shoes and headed out to face him. She hoped her fear was hidden, but, hell, even if the fear didn’t show on her face, he’d smell it.

He had too many advantages.

She was tired of that.

As she approached, he pushed away from the wall. He strode to meet her, and his hand lifted. His knuckles skimmed down her cheek. “I’m sorry,” Connor said, surprising her, “I didn’t know Eric was going to put you into containment with David Vincent. The guy’s a dick.”

“Who’s a dick? Eric or David?”

“Both of them.”

Her lips curved. He was right. They both were.

His gaze dropped to her mouth. “You don’t do that often enough.”

Her smile faltered.

His hand moved down a bit. His thumb slid over her bottom lip. “You should always smile.”

And he should…he should move his hand because his touch was doing all kinds of not good things to her. Like making her heart race too fast. Making her breath come in pants. Making her want to open her mouth and suck his thumb.

Settle down!

She backed up. “You and Holly, you two are a thing, right? So how about you not get all touchy-feely with me and—”

He laughed. Chloe wasn’t sure she’d ever heard him laugh, not a real laugh, anyway. His laugh was a deep, sexy rumble. His eyes crinkled, and what could have almost been a dimple flashed in his right cheek.

Trouble.

“Oh, baby, no. Just…no.” He shook his head. “She’s with my brother.”

Shock stole her breath, then she sucked it back and demanded, “You have a brother?” There were two men like him running around? She didn’t know if the world was equipped for that. Chloe knew she wasn’t.

“An older brother, one I hadn’t seen in years. One I tried to kill.” His laughter was gone. “But that’s a story for another day.”

It was a story for right then. “Seriously, Connor, you can’t drop bombshells like that and just expect me to not ask questions. You tried to kill your brother?” Now she realized that maybe David hadn’t just been bullshitting her back in containment. “Why?”

“Long story.” He took a step toward her.

She almost retreated, but didn’t. Her shoulders straightened.

“Maybe,” he said, “when you trust me enough to tell me more about your past, then I’ll tell you mine.”

Her gaze searched his. “What do you want from me?”

“Right now, I want to kiss you.”

Her breath came even faster.

“A real kiss, Chloe. Not one because someone is closing in and I don’t want you screaming for help. I want a kiss that lets me taste you. A kiss that shows us both…do we really go f**king nuclear or was that all just from the adrenaline before? The heat of the moment?”

Fucking nuclear. She could admit, to herself, that she’d felt exactly that way in the alley. She’d been furious one moment and then nearly clawing at him in the next.

“No one else is here right now. Just you and me. I want a kiss, Chloe,” he said again, his voice roughening a bit. “Will you kiss me?”

There were a million reasons why she shouldn’t. Probably far more than a million.

And there was only one reason why she should.

Because I want him, the way I haven’t wanted anyone in a very long time. No, the way I’ve never wanted anyone else.

She didn’t answer Connor. Instead, she closed that last little bit of space between them. Chloe rose onto her tip toes, she curled her arms around his neck, pulling him toward her, and she kissed him. Their lips touched. One soft touch—

She was lost.

Chapter Six

He’d never wanted a woman the way he wanted her. An insane, consuming, f**king, mind-blowing desire. Maybe Connor should have been cautious, careful, because of that wild need. Maybe he should have questioned it.

Her scent had been changed to lure in werewolves. What if the senator had done something else to her, too? What if the desire he felt wasn’t real? What if—

Screw it. He didn’t care. He just wanted her.