Read Online Frozen Desires (Asylums for Magical Threats) by Jessie Donovan - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jessie Donovan
Tags: FICTION / Romance / Paranormal, Camilla Melini is a high-ranking soldier with an organization fighting to free elemental magic users. Her latest assignment is to find one of the legendary elemental Four Talents, and she’s determined to get in and out of Mexico as quickly as possible to avoid running into the man who nearly destroyed her life. But when the dangerous man from her past finds her, Cam must work with Marco Alvarez, a man she’d dismissed as a playboy, to prevent the the powerful magic of the Talents from falling into the wrong hands. She never expected the charming playboy to be a cunning warrior worthy of her heart...
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touch was similar to what she’d felt when she’d been pressed up against Marco’s side back at the observatory. Cam
tried to turn and break away so she could see if it was him or not, but the man’s hands didn’t budge.
Her options were limited in this crowded area, but maybe she could stomp on his foot with her shoe
and disappear into the crowd. She could easily play it as discouraging a drunken man’s unwanted attention.
As she tried to determine the best way to cause maximum pain, the man shifted behind her, his breath
warm against her ear. “Gotcha.”
Cam narrowed her eyes and decided she’d find a way to make him pay for his manhandling, later when
he least expected it. “Marco.” She pressed her nails harder against his skin, but not quite breaking it. “You found me.”
He snorted. “Wasn’t that the point?” He kept one hand on her waist, and while never trying to disengage
from her grip on his forearm, he sidled to her side. “What were you translating today?”
She looked askance at him. “Who told you that?”
“Only about five different people.” He tugged at her braid with his free hand. “Between your scars and
this braid, you’re too memorable. You need a better disguise.”
She had never been a vain person. But people often commented on how women weren’t supposed to
have scars on their face, as if she’d had any choice in the matter.
She tried to step away, but Marco’s grip was like steel. She clenched her teeth, hating the reminder that
Marco would always be physically stronger than she would simply because he was a man.
He tsked. “I saved your ass, yet you repaid me by ditching me in the jungle. You owe me. The least you
could do is tell me what you were translating today.”
He held her gaze, confidence oozing from every pore. No doubt, he expected her to answer him.
She wanted to wipe that look away just to spite him, but she knew that was childish. Despite how much
she wished to forget it, he had helped her back at Chichen Itza. Also, he’d passed her second test, proving he was also a skilled tracker. If that wasn’t enough in his favor, his ability to find out information in this neck of the woods was a skill she desperately needed to run a better team.
While she would make him understand that touching her freely in public wasn’t an option, she was
smart enough to see the value of Marco becoming one of her assets.
To ensure his cooperation in the future, there was no harm in telling him the gist of the message she’d
found, especially since she was the only one who knew the entire contents of the message.
She looked around, but everyone in the surrounding crowd was focused on either the dancers or the
band. She leaned in toward him and said, “There was a message in the ruins, written in the old Feiru
language. I don’t know enough of the old language to translate it, so I had to get some help.”
He pulled her close enough that she could smell the mixture of aftershave and male. She took a deep
whiff, but then realized what she was doing and dug her nails a little deeper into his arm.
Before she could think of another way to put distance back between them, Marco whispered into her
ear, “Beauty, if you’d bothered to ask, you would’ve found out that I speak more than just Spanish and
English.” He tipped up her chin with his finger, his eyes lowering to half-mast. “I have a very talented
tongue.”
Already relaxed by the music, Cam revised her plans to make him a eunuch and snorted. He was hitting
on her or at least attempting to. “Does that line actually work on people?”
Marco blinked. He looked like a deer caught in the headlights, confused and not quite sure what to do.
“Usually, yes.”
She shook her head and dislodged his grip on her chin. “Pick-up lines don’t work on me, so don’t even
try.” Aware that she’d let her guard down temporarily, she leaned away from him to help her focus. For
some reason,
tried to turn and break away so she could see if it was him or not, but the man’s hands didn’t budge.
Her options were limited in this crowded area, but maybe she could stomp on his foot with her shoe
and disappear into the crowd. She could easily play it as discouraging a drunken man’s unwanted attention.
As she tried to determine the best way to cause maximum pain, the man shifted behind her, his breath
warm against her ear. “Gotcha.”
Cam narrowed her eyes and decided she’d find a way to make him pay for his manhandling, later when
he least expected it. “Marco.” She pressed her nails harder against his skin, but not quite breaking it. “You found me.”
He snorted. “Wasn’t that the point?” He kept one hand on her waist, and while never trying to disengage
from her grip on his forearm, he sidled to her side. “What were you translating today?”
She looked askance at him. “Who told you that?”
“Only about five different people.” He tugged at her braid with his free hand. “Between your scars and
this braid, you’re too memorable. You need a better disguise.”
She had never been a vain person. But people often commented on how women weren’t supposed to
have scars on their face, as if she’d had any choice in the matter.
She tried to step away, but Marco’s grip was like steel. She clenched her teeth, hating the reminder that
Marco would always be physically stronger than she would simply because he was a man.
He tsked. “I saved your ass, yet you repaid me by ditching me in the jungle. You owe me. The least you
could do is tell me what you were translating today.”
He held her gaze, confidence oozing from every pore. No doubt, he expected her to answer him.
She wanted to wipe that look away just to spite him, but she knew that was childish. Despite how much
she wished to forget it, he had helped her back at Chichen Itza. Also, he’d passed her second test, proving he was also a skilled tracker. If that wasn’t enough in his favor, his ability to find out information in this neck of the woods was a skill she desperately needed to run a better team.
While she would make him understand that touching her freely in public wasn’t an option, she was
smart enough to see the value of Marco becoming one of her assets.
To ensure his cooperation in the future, there was no harm in telling him the gist of the message she’d
found, especially since she was the only one who knew the entire contents of the message.
She looked around, but everyone in the surrounding crowd was focused on either the dancers or the
band. She leaned in toward him and said, “There was a message in the ruins, written in the old Feiru
language. I don’t know enough of the old language to translate it, so I had to get some help.”
He pulled her close enough that she could smell the mixture of aftershave and male. She took a deep
whiff, but then realized what she was doing and dug her nails a little deeper into his arm.
Before she could think of another way to put distance back between them, Marco whispered into her
ear, “Beauty, if you’d bothered to ask, you would’ve found out that I speak more than just Spanish and
English.” He tipped up her chin with his finger, his eyes lowering to half-mast. “I have a very talented
tongue.”
Already relaxed by the music, Cam revised her plans to make him a eunuch and snorted. He was hitting
on her or at least attempting to. “Does that line actually work on people?”
Marco blinked. He looked like a deer caught in the headlights, confused and not quite sure what to do.
“Usually, yes.”
She shook her head and dislodged his grip on her chin. “Pick-up lines don’t work on me, so don’t even
try.” Aware that she’d let her guard down temporarily, she leaned away from him to help her focus. For
some reason,
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