"Just for a minute?" She narrowed her eyes back at him warningly.
He was teasing her. Merinus had stated that Jonas never joked, that he never teased. Maybe it was that no one had ever paid attention to the unique way he did it. Or perhaps, he kept them too angry to pay attention.
"And what would be the price of forgetting?" She just had to push it, she couldn't help it.
The change that came over him was almost frightening. For a woman who had never known a man like Jonas, it could be terrifying.
His expression darkened; sensual, sexual awareness filled every inch of his face, gleamed in silver eyes that seemed to lighten, to burn with hunger.
"Jonas." As though that look alone were enough to weaken her, to turn her legs to jelly, Rachel leaned against the edge of her desk and held on for support.
Predatory awareness transformed his face as sensual hunger flamed in his eyes. Straightening, he moved from the door.
"Get out of here." The order that rasped from his lips shocked her. "Run, Rachel. Get away from me."
She shook her head. How was she supposed to run? She could barely breathe. The look on his face was all-consuming, filled with need--for her.
Had anyone ever needed her? Ever ached for her?
In all her life she'd never truly had anyone but her sister, and Diana had her battles. Danger was Diana's lover, her family, her friend. Amber was Rachel's responsibility. Devon had been a footnote in her and Amber's life, nothing more.
Yet Jonas ached for her. She could see it, she could feel it.
"Jonas . . ." She licked her suddenly dry lips as he moved closer.
"Do you know what I am?" he growled, his tone so rough, so primal, it sent shivers racing down her spine. "You don't even know the beast that draws you, do you, Rachel?"
"Running me off, are you? What about all this 'me Breed, you mate' crap you're always spouting?" She felt light-headed, sensitive. Her flesh was crawling with the need for his touch.
She couldn't blame it on mating heat. Ely had assured her it took more than the few brief touches they had shared to cause the need to rage inside her.
"I was created to be a breeder." He moved to her, his hands curving around her upper arms as she stared back at him, barely understanding what he was saying, her gaze locked on his lips. Lips she needed to taste, a kiss she hungered for in the dead of night and yet continued to deny herself.
"Are you listening to me, Rachel?" His lips pulled back from h
is teeth in a snarl, revealing the strong, sexier than hell incisors at the sides of his mouth.
"A breeder." She had to fight to breathe now. "I heard you."
"I was created to breed the perfect killer."
She licked her lips again, wondered how he would taste.
"Yeah, well, I guess they had to have an excuse for creating someone so damned arrogant and certain of themselves." It made sense to her anyway, and she had to say something, otherwise he might believe she was as dumbfounded as she knew she was becoming.
A growl rumbled in his chest and vibrated in her pussy.
Oh Lord, what was happening to her?
Should arousal be this strong, this hot? She felt flushed, overheated, oversensitive.
"If you don't get the hell away from me, I'm going to kiss you." He shook her just a little. "Listen to me, Rachel. You don't feel the heat; I do. You don't know what it does. Trust me." One hand lifted, touched her chin and raised her face until she was staring into his eyes. "Listen to me, baby: You'll regret it."
She shook her head. How could she regret it?
"Just a little kiss," she whispered.
His eyes closed briefly. "A little kiss." When he reopened them, the irises had lightened further, the color swirling, burning.