My Forbidden Desire
lumbar spine, he recognized a mix of magekind and demon in what she was pulling, and all of it was focused on the thing on top of her.
    The mageheld went down hard on the kitchen floor, and Xia wasn’t at all sure if he’d killed him or if Alexandrine had. The window stopped rattling. Silence fell.
    She scrambled out from under the body, eyes big, breathing hard. There wasn’t a mark on her, but her shirt was completely shredded. No need to wonder anymore what she looked like without her shirt. “You okay?” he asked.
    His towel was on the floor, and he stooped for it so she could cover herself. But she just stood there, taking deep shuddering breaths and staring at the dead mageheld like she thought it would get up and try for seconds.
    “Alexandrine,” he said.
    No reaction from her.
    He went to her and awkwardly draped the towel around her as he tried not to look or touch. He wasn’t exactly having pure thoughts. She wasn’t aware of much, and she continued to radiate that weird mix of power. He didn’t think that could be doing anything but getting her even more tightly wound up with the talisman. A similar process had nearly killed Carson Philips when she got on the wrong side of an unstable talisman. “Baby,” he said, keeping a hand on her shoulder so the towel wouldn’t fall completely off her. “Sit down, okay?”
    She looked at him. “He was going to kill me.”
    He adjusted the towel, but she wasn’t helping, and he was seeing more than he should. “I know, baby.” He touched her cheek, and she let him. So he kept doing it. Her skin was shockingly soft. “He didn’t have any choice. None of them do.”
    She leaned her face into his fingers. “That isn’t right,” she whispered.
    “No,” he said. Her eyes were big and wide, and Xia didn’t mind so much looking into them. He was actually kind of liking it. Physically, he wasn’t too far from changing, and there was magic and some pretty freaking raw lust flowing through him right now.
    “If it weren’t for you,” she said, “I’d be dead.”
    “Nah.” He stepped away. He had some things to take care of to make sure they didn’t get overrun again, and besides, he didn’t think she’d appreciate him putting his hands all over her, which is what he wanted to do right now. “I think you offed that one yourself.”
    Her gaze swept over him, and when she got back to his face after maybe a little longer than was safe for either of them, he cocked his head and shrugged. She held out the towel to him, and a bunch of stuff happened all in the space of a second or two.
    He looked. And jaysus, she was just gorgeous. He had wet dreams about women who looked like her. He said, “Fuck,” because he felt like a jackass for looking and getting off on it.
    Alexandrine looked down at herself, then turned bright red and said, “Oh.” She covered herself with the towel. “Well, that was embarrassing.”
    He tried a smile. “I guess we’re even, then.”
    “I guess so.” And she smiled back a little, and they were actually kind of okay. Amazing. He figured that wouldn’t last long, since they were on opposite sides of the species fence, but it was nice for now.
    “Look,” he said. “I need to clean up here, but I could use your help, if you don’t mind. Mostly to let me know if you feel them coming on again.” Hell must be covered in ice about now: He was actually asking a witch for help. “If you don’t mind.”
    “No, I don’t mind.”
    “Be with you in a minute, all right?” he asked. He answered her unspoken question by looking at the dead fiend. Gotta take care of the dead. She nodded and walked out, with him looking at her naked back all the way.
    Damn, he really, really wanted to get in her pants. And he really, really hoped his case of the hots for Alexandrine Marit came to a quick end. Because otherwise he was fucked.

    Chapter 6
    A lexandrine walked out holding the damn towel across her chest, wigged out by Xia’s

Similar Books

Everlastin' Book 1

Mickee Madden

My Butterfly

Laura Miller

Don't Open The Well

Kirk Anderson

Amulet of Doom

Bruce Coville

Canvas Coffin

William Campbell Gault