Read Predator's Kiss Online

Authors: Rosanna Leo

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Paranormal, #General, #Contemporary

Predator's Kiss (14 page)

There was a noise down the opposite hall, and Lia looked up and saw Ryland running toward her. His forehead creased with fury when he eyed her backpack. “What are you doing?”

She dangled her bloody arm, painful as it was. “Clearly, getting shot.” Lia fought the urge to faint by biting her lip hard.

Ryland took in the mess that was her arm and then looked around the hallway in a panic. “Jesus Christ, Lia! Why didn’t you stay put?” He picked her up, so easily it just made her madder, and ran toward his suite.

“I’m not your prisoner,” she said in a garbled voice, feeling very funny in her tummy.

“I never said you were, but we have to keep you safe.” Once at the suite, Ryland conferred quickly with his baffled guards and handed her over. “Make sure she doesn’t leave again,” he threatened, and then ran down the hall God only knew where. She supposed he was chasing down the shooter so he could prove he was a big, testosterone-filled bear.

Lia watched through eyes that wanted to close but then her big shifter bodyguard carried her back into Ryland’s room, and she lost sight of Ryland’s angry form as he careened down the hallway.

As the shifter placed her gently upon the bed, Lia said a silent prayer Ryland wouldn’t get himself killed because of her. Big, unfeeling oaf that he was.

Chapter 10

The bodyguard bandaged her up, assuring her she’d only been grazed and the wound would heal. Lia thanked the man. His name was Lloyd, she discovered, and he had a human wife and two shifter kids. At least, his wife had been human once. She was now a shifter like he was, and according to him, quite tickled with her new persona. Lloyd was a huge man, like Ryland, another bear shifter. As he administered first aid to her, Lia couldn’t help peppering him with questions about how he met his wife and what married life was like for a shifter.

Lloyd looked up at her and laughed. “The same as it is for anyone else, Miss Goodblood. I love my mate. Nothing stands in the way of me being with her.” And then Lloyd looked at her as if she had a screw loose.

Maybe she did have a screw loose.

She wondered aloud at his usage of the word “mate.”

Lloyd chuckled. “It’s an old-fashioned term for us shifters. The mate bond speaks of something powerful, something bigger than all of us. When we find our mates, there is no stronger connection. It’s not just love. It surpasses that. It’s a hunger that can only be fed by that one person. A need only fulfilled by that partner. When my wife accepted me as her mate, her whole world changed. There’s nothing more humbling for a shifter than to find the person whose soul is joined to yours.” He waved his hand and smiled. “You write books. You can probably do a better job describing it than I can.”

Lia stared at the man, touched to the core by feelings she didn’t understand. “You did a bang-up job.”

Lloyd checked her bandages one more time and stood. “I’d better get back to my post.” He smiled and turned to the door, just as Ryland walked in.

Lia didn’t realize she was holding her breath until she was forced to let it out. She gazed at Ryland. He remained at the door, talking quietly to Lloyd, his hands tightly clenched. Every few moments, he darted a concerned look in her direction. Lloyd left, and Ryland turned to her.

Once again, her breath drained out of her body.

It’s not just love. It surpasses that
.

Rubbish
, she thought. And anyway, she was mad at him. Wasn’t she?

He approached her side. When his gaze dropped to her bandaged arm, he paled fifteen shades. “Lia. Are you okay?”

“Aside from being one hole closer to Swiss cheese, I’m pretty good.” She looked away. She couldn’t keep looking at him without wanting to cry. Every time she remembered how he touched her the previous evening, then left, made her want to shed bucketfuls of hot tears. And she would not do that.

He sat on the bed next to her. “I lost his trail. I’m sorry. I’m not catching any human scents here other than yours. All I smell around here is shifter. Who would have done this?”

“It seems a bit extreme for one of my paparazzi pals, but maybe they were getting tired of waiting for that feature on me. Maybe they decided to scare me into it. Or maybe Scott decided to pay me a visit,” she wondered aloud. “Look, Ryland, I can’t stay cooped up in this room. I’m going stir-crazy.”

“I understand,” he said softly. “Lia, we need to talk about last night.”

She shifted away, uncomfortable. “No, we don’t. There’s nothing to talk about. You helped me … water my garden and I’m grateful. It’s not as if I expected anything else from you.”

Had she?

His lips thinned in frustration. “Maybe not. But I would have expected it of myself. I wasn’t trying to ignore you … you know, after we
watered your garden
.”

“You don’t owe me any explanations. It’s okay.”

He stared at her for a moment, clearly giving her his best “Don’t you recognize an apology when you hear one?” look. He shook his head, and she couldn’t tell if he was mystified or angry. “Anyway, I need to call the police.”

“No!”

“Lia, someone tried to shoot you! If you think I’m letting that go, think again.” He got off the bed and marched to the table where he stored his phone book and searched for the number to the mainland police.

“But if the police come, my life will become even more of a circus. What if my stalker did this? Ryland, don’t,” she pleaded. “I just want to be left alone.”

He dialed, but turned to look at her. “And I’d like to see you in one piece.”

She listened as he made the call. And as worried as she was about bringing the matter to the police, she was even more worried about the tension between her and Ryland.

It was hurting her. She realized she would do just about anything to make it better.

* * * *

A couple of hours later, Ryland watched as the bewildered police officers left his suite. He couldn’t blame them for looking like they were suffering from a major head rush. He’d spilled all the beans. He’d told them everything—from who Lia was, the shooter, and the Scott situation. Hell, he’d even told them about Soren’s supposed hit man and the sordid tale of Floro Valdez. The only part he’d left out was the fact that they were shifters. He hadn’t had to mention it because the cops were shifter buddies of his and understood the importance of keeping Gemini Island out of the papers. They’d agreed on the need for more security at the lodge and made arrangements to be around. For that, Ryland was grateful.

He glanced over at the fuming Lia, for what had to be the hundredth time. He knew she wasn’t really angry at him, just the situation. She was standing over by the bedroom window, shoulders hunched, her face all scrunched up. She almost resembled a little bear herself.

God, he wanted to march over there and kiss the petulant look right off her face.

But then he noticed her bandages again, and could even see specks of clotted blood on the inner layers of gauze.

Some bastard shot her.

The horrible rush of emotion that churned inside him almost made him stagger. The proprietary urge to seize her and make her better was only rivaled by the keen desire to make the shooter feel the same level of pain. Ryland didn’t think he’d ever wanted to hurt someone so badly in his life. Christ, he would have gladly ended the little shit’s life for touching her.

He ran a hand through his hair and caught a breath.
Oh my God, what is happening to me?

Lia turned around and her face softened in sympathy. “Ryland, you’re green. Are you going to be sick?”

He leaned against the door, as a wave of strange, lust-tinged nausea overwhelmed him. “There’s a distinct possibility.”

“Oh,” Lia cooed, rushing right over to him. She stood on tiptoes and laid a small, cool hand on his forehead. “What brought it on?”

He gazed at her, painfully smitten to the core. His inner bear taunted him.
She’s our mate, you head case. Mate with her! Take her
. “Beats me.”

She frowned. “I can’t tell if you’re feverish like this. Bend over.”

“Pardon?” he asked, highly amused even though his queasiness.

She smirked. “Wrong choice of words. I wasn’t planning on taking your ass temperature. I meant crouch lower for me. You’re so damn tall.”

Ryland crouched, narrowing his eyes in suspicion.

Once his face was at level with hers, Lia leaned in and dropped a soft, lingering kiss on his forehead. His already lambent temperature soared. “What did you do that for?”

“Didn’t anyone ever check your temperature that way?” she replied softly. “The lips are more sensitive to heat.”

Ryland stared at her lips. “I’m not sick, Lia.”

Her gaze dropped to his lips as well. Her eyes fluttered. “Then what are you?”

A low growl sounded deep inside him, building in intensity and need. He raised himself to his full height and pulled her body flush against his. “I’m hungry.”

Ryland leaned over and covered her mouth in his as the animal inside him fought for release. Lia didn’t fight it either; she clutched at him, winding her arms around his neck. He was careful not to hurt her wounded arm, but held her tight, so tightly she was lifted from the floor and her feet dangled under her.

With every taste, with every sensual glide of their tongues, the need to make her his grew. Ryland reeled, feeling more at the mercy of his beastly instincts than he ever had before. This wasn’t just carnal lust. This wasn’t simply the need for a fuck. Something had reached inside him and scrawled Lia’s name on every part of him that mattered.

Mate bond
.

As they fell apart on a breath, he knew it was useless to fight. He would make her his.

She seemed to realize they’d passed the point of no return too. She touched her swollen lips and gazed at him, amazed. “I’m so wrong for you. I’m trouble. And with Scott…”

Ryland held her and leaned over to drop a searing kiss on her lips. “Do you want me, Lia?”

She gaped at him as if he were a six-foot caramel sundae with whipped cream on top. “Yup.”

“Well, then,” Ryland said, smirking. “Fuck Scott.”

* * * *

Lia couldn’t remember exactly where she’d lost her clothing, only that she’d somehow lost it on the surreal, feverish journey from the door to the bed.

They were going to have sex. For real. Not in her head, as she’d imagined a hundred times since meeting him. Actual sex. Bodies writhing. Heavy breathing. Slipping, sliding, grunting. The whole nine yards.

How she wanted it to happen!

And from the look on Ryland’s face, he was certainly on the same page. Even during their brief acquaintance, she’d seen need etched into his eyes. Had seen it clear as day when he was fingering her and providing her with her greatest climax ever. But even then, the desire wasn’t as blatant, as all-consuming.

It had to happen. Surely it was written in the stars.

Ryland laid her gently on the bed and she watched him undo his jeans and discard all his clothes as if they were vile, hated things. She stared at his body as each inch was exposed. He was sinfully good-looking. With a hard, flat stomach, covered in a smattering of black hairs, trailing down to a long, thick cock that seemed longer and thicker for wanting her. She wanted to touch him, wanted to taste him. Wanted to tease him with the tip of her tongue and curl her fingers around him. Wanted to feel him sliding inside her.

Before she knew it, he was next to her on the bed. Ryland aimed for her mouth, his lips hot and ready for her kiss. There was no hesitation on his part as his tongue penetrated the cavern of her mouth, and her tongue met his with greedy euphoria. Seeking and finding only bliss as he gently nipped at her, as she licked the corners of his mouth.

“You taste so good,” he murmured. He burrowed his face in her neck, nibbling the soft flesh under her ear. At one point, she felt him stop moving and realized he was breathing her in. Burying his nose in her hair, absorbing her. Seemingly happy just to experience her fragrance. But then his mouth ventured lower, over her collarbone, down her chest. And when he captured her left nipple in his mouth, she realized he’d never be content just dwelling on her hair.

And neither would she.

Having his lips on her breast was sheer rapture, but the sensation was only amplified as Ryland’s hand roved toward her other breast. He tweaked that nipple between thumb and forefinger. At the same time he flicked at the other erect nipple with his teasing tongue, and then closed his mouth around it to suckle.

The dual assault was so excruciatingly sweet she thought she might start speaking in tongues.

She raised her head to take in the sight of that beautiful man tasting her. He was so different from her, but still so dedicated to the cause of giving her pleasure. It was enough to make her want to cry, but with tears of joy. When he sensed her gaze, he raised his head and smiled at her. His hands still caressing, always caressing.

Lia’s heart soared.

He returned his attention to her taut nipples, doling out more of his delicious torture. She let her head fall back onto the bed, unable to deal with the emotions slicing through her soul.

It was just sex
, she told herself. It had to be, for their sakes. People did it every day, without a single thought attached. So why was it that every time Ryland touched her she was ready to combust with what could only be a very ill-timed love?

It wasn’t possible so early in the game, was it? And yet, how could it be anything else? He’d claimed her with a glance. He’d ruined her for other men with a mere touch. And with this … she knew she could never even think of being with another.

It was Ryland or no one.

He slowly dragged his teeth along her nipple, commanding her attention. Then he soothed the abraded area by rolling his tongue all around it. His mouth open, he looked up at her again, appearing under the influence of an addictive drug. He breathed in, steadying himself, and spoke quietly. “I want this to be beautiful for you. You deserve beauty.”

“Oh,” she whispered, taken by his words. “It already is. I swear it.” Hell, she wanted to shout it from the rafters.

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