On the Hunt (Sentinel Wars #3.5)(20)
Author: Gena Showalter

"Medicine." He drained the contents, and she did the same. Then he claimed both glasses and returned them to the bar.

Warm and sweet, the medicine slid into her stomach and quickly spread through the rest of her.

The little stings and abrasions she’d acquired began to heal. "How are you so advanced in this way?" Her world had nothing that healed instantly. "Yet so antiquated in others?"

"We were once so highly advanced we managed to destroy our sun and most of the population."

A few steps, and they were facing each other again. "What you see now is centuries of rebuilding."

"Oh. Neat." Shaking with anticipation, she glanced at the four-poster bed. "Do you want to . . ."

"Yes, but we can’t. Not yet. We need to talk."

Guttural tone, ominous words. She licked her lips, nervous and achy at the same time. "Okay.

What about?"

"Outside, you mentioned other Walkers." His eyes blazed.

A stark reminder of what she needed to tell him. "Yes." Now she gazed down at her feet, cold seeping through the heat. His safety came before her pleasure. "Why do you want to know who they are and when they come?"

"That’s not important now. We need to—"

"Why?"

He sighed. "To protect my people."

"How do you protect them from Walkers?"

Silence.

She looked up at him through the shield of her lashes. He plowed a hand through his hair.

"How?" she insisted.

"I killthem."

He’d stated the words so simply, without a hint of remorse; she could only blink at him. "Without knowing their intentions?"

A nod. Stiff, suddenly angry.

Clearly, she couldn’t tell him when Nick would come. Not yet. "Why?"

"They’re dangerous."

"I’m not. Others aren’t."

"You’re different. They aren’t." Firm, flat.

"How do you know?"

"Rose!" Hard fingers twined around her upper arms and shook her. "That doesn’t matter. And I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want to talk about the other Walkers. Let’s discuss the fact that you showed up unannounced. Again. And in the middle of a battle, no less."

Having him this close, finally touching her, yet not skin on skin, was complete torment. Her breathing quickened, and goose bumps beaded. Her chest constricted, even as her belly quivered. She loved looking at him. Especially now, as water dripped from his hair and caught in his eyelashes. As color deepened his cheeks, and mud and blood streaked his bare arms and torso.

"No. Let’s continue talking about the Walkers. I met with one," she said. "And you’re right. Some of them are dangerous. This one told me he’s been talking to others, and they want to plan a way to destroy this world. He has an idea to join them, to team up with others who share the same birthday week, and each bring their weapon of preference and strike, so it’s one tragedy after another here, and there’s no time for you guys to protect yourselves. But that’s because they’re scared. If you showed them a bit of compassion, they would—"

"No." still stiff, again angry, though far more so now, he dropped his arms away from her, severing all contact. "That’s not up for discussion."

"Fine. Then maybe we should take sex off the table, too." If he wanted to play stubborn, so would she. This was important to her. He was important. "I need a bath and a change of—" Shit! Her bag. "I dropped my bag outside. When I . . . landed."

There was a glimmer of fear in his eyes, there one moment, gone the next. "I’ll return shortly." He didn’t wait for her reply, but strode to the door, tossing over his shoulder, "Do not leave this room. Bathe, eat, whatever you want, but do not leave."

"I didn’t mean you had to—"

Thud. Alone. Frustrated, she glanced around.Through an open set of doors on the left, she spotted a large pool, steam curling in the air. He’d mentioned bathing. She stripped along the way, leaving her wet dress and heels strewn on the floor, part of her grateful for the reprieve. She stepped into the hot water, submerging herself, and sighed with pleasure.

Though she wanted to relax, she hurried through the bath, lathering hair and body with a bar of soap that smelled like wildflowers. No wonder Vasili always smelled so sweet, though she was surprised he’d chosen such a feminine scent for himself. Unless a female had chosen it for him.

Did he entertain women here? Let them bathe? Watch them? Pleasure himself while doing so?

Probably.

The jealousy and possessiveness that swept through her were hot and undeniable. He was hers now. She would be seeing to his needs, just as he would be seeing to hers. If he would just return with a better attitude, the jackass.

After she rinsed, she stepped from the pool and searched for a towel. She found a closet full of his clothes and weapons, but no towel. Not knowing what else to do, she used one of his shirts, dabbing the material against her body to absorb the moisture, then grabbed a soft sheet from the bed, wrapped it around herself, and sat in front of the fireplace to dry her hair. And plan. If she could negotiate a peace treaty between Vasili and the Walkers, they wouldn’t try to hurt him, and he would be safe.

An eternity later, hinges creaked, and then Vasili was striding back into the room. No closer to answers, Rose popped to her feet. He was wetter than before, muddier, and had her bag slung over his shoulder. He had a new cut on his cheek, and blood trickled. He threw the bag down as he searched…. Their gazes collided. He stilled, jaw clenched.

"What happened?" she asked.

He looked her over, nostrils flaring, pupils expanding. "You’re naked under there." A growl.

"Yes, but—"

He was in front of her a moment later, gripping her waist and hefting her up. He turned without setting her down and tossed her. For several seconds, she was airborne and confused. Then she hit the bed, bounced on the mattress, and knew. He was going to have her.

"Vasili, we really should talk about how to combat—"

"I don’t want to talk about the other Walkers anymore." He strode to the side of the bed and ripped off the sheet, his hot gaze raking over her. She didn’t move, allowed him to look his fill. And look he did. That gaze was as intent as a caress, lingering on her br**sts, causing her ni**les to pearl for him, then dipping to her thighs. "I don’t want to talk about the danger you placed yourself in. Not now."

Something had set him off. Something had shredded his control. She liked it, loved it, wanted it, but all that ferocity . . .