this. So possessively. So completely. It felt as if she were cocooned by his strength. The weirdest part of all was that deep down she liked the feeling a whole lot more than she ever wanted to admit.
Nestled in his arms, she finally drifted to sleep.
Amanda came awake to a hard thigh wedged between her legs and to a hot hand beneath her sweater, skimming the flesh of her stomach. Hunter's arm held her so close to him that she could barely breathe.
"I've missed you," he whispered tenderly an instant before he slid his hand under her bra and cupped her breast.
Amanda hissed in pleasure as his warm fingers brushed against her flesh in slow, simmering circles. That touch branded her with desire and it was all she could do not to turn her head to his and kiss him.
"Theone," he breathed lovingly.
"Hey!" she snapped at him. It offended her to the core of her soul that he would dare call her by someone else's name. If he was going to grope, then he better damn well remember who it was he groped. "What are you doing?"
Kyrian tensed as he came fully awake and opened his eyes wide. The first thing he felt was the warm, soft breast that overfilled his palm. The second was the throbbing ache in his body that demanded release.
Oh shit! He jerked his hand away as if it were on fire.
What the hell was he doing?
His job was to protect her,
not
touch her. Especially not when she felt this good in his arms. The last time he'd made that mistake with a woman, it had cost him his very soul.
Amanda saw the confusion on his face as he pulled away from her and sat up.
"Who's Theone?" she asked.
Hatred flared in his eyes. "No one."
Okay, he didn't like Theone while conscious, but there for a minute…
He rose slowly to his feet and helped her up. "I slept longer than I meant to. The sun is already setting."
"Is this some weird psychic thing you have with the sun?"
"Since I live and die by when it sets and rises, yes." He pulled her toward the door. "Now then, you said you know someone we can see about getting free?"
"Yeah, they should be home. Want me to call and make sure?"
"Yes."
Amanda went to the desk, picked up the phone, then called Grace Alexander.
"Hey, Gracie," she said as soon as Grace answered. "This is Amanda. I was wondering if you guys would be home tonight? I have a bit of a favor to ask."
"Sure. My in-laws are over for a bit, but that'll keep the babies occupied. You want to tell me—"
"Not over the phone. We'll be there as soon as we can."
"We?" Grace asked.
"I have a friend in tow, if you don't mind."
"No, not at all."
"Thanks. I'll see you in a bit." Amanda hung up the phone.
"Okay," she said to Hunter. "She lives off
St. Charles. You know the way?"
Before he could answer, Tate came in with a black briefcase in his hand. "Hey," he said to Hunter, "I figured you'd be getting up about now. A guy named Nick came by a couple of hours ago and left this for you."
"Thanks," Hunter said as he took the briefcase from him. He placed it on the desk and opened it.
Amanda's eyes bulged at the sight of two small handguns, a recoiling gun, a holster, a cell phone, three wicked-looking knives, and a pair of small, dark, round sunglasses.
"Tate," Hunter said with a friendly note in his voice she wouldn't have thought him capable of. "You're the man."
"I just hope Nick didn't forget anything."
"Nope, he nailed it."
Amanda arched a brow at the strangeness of hearing modern American slang coming out of a man with such a heavy, seductive accent.
Tate nodded to them, then left.
She watched as Hunter strapped the holster to his hips, then he slid the plate back to lock a bullet in the chamber of each gun. He flicked on the safety, twirled them around, then holstered them so that his coat concealed them.
Next, he picked up a butterfly knife and shoved it in his back pocket. The other two knives went into his coat pockets and he clipped the cell phone and his PDA to his belt.
Amanda arched a brow at his weapons.
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