A second later, she narrowed her eyes on the smug smile that tugged at his well-molded, sensual lips.
“I’ll take it that the rumors of a Navajo-based Breed Underground Network that helps Breeds and humans running from the Genetics Council is true. I’ll also assume you’re part of that network.”
A soft laugh left her lips. “You know what ‘assume’ does,” she reminded him. “It makes an ass of you.”
“Touché,” he congratulated her. “But the statement stands.”
Her arms crossed over her breasts defensively, but Stygian sensed her amusement.
Damn, she was enjoying every minute of the dangerous byplay.
Stygian knew well the consequences of allowing Liza more information on mating heat that could contradict the Breeds’ stance that it was all rumor and false accusations.
Breed Law—the Breed mandates rather than those President Andrews had signed into law—expressly forbid the sharing of the information before mating occurred.
If Liza were to betray the information—before or after mating—then Breed Law could see them both dead. Unless Liza were pregnant, then it would merely see them imprisoned for life.
“We’re at a stalemate then?” she asked when he said nothing more.
“Not exactly.” He grinned and considered her bravado. “You could always let me kiss you. That would settle the issue once and for all.”
Only then would the risks of discovery, and the laws forbidding exposing it, be revealed to her. Perhaps then it would mean something to her as well.
“And the risk of being at your beck and call night and day because I’m so addicted to your kiss that I can’t walk away?” She snorted at the thought. “That’s okay, Mr. Black.”
So much for the subtle dare. Not that he had really expected her to fall for it.
“At least there’s a way to prove or disprove the theory.” He shrugged. “What do you have to offer to disprove my suspicion that you’re part of the Navajo Breed Underground Network that relocates and rescues Breeds that the Council has targeted?”
“The same as you have.” She shrugged as one little brow cocked a little higher than the other and laughter gleamed in her eyes. “Yep, sounds like a stalemate to me.”
Oh, he could show her a stalemate.
Stygian stood slowly, straightening before moving toward her.
“Just because you’re not lying doesn’t mean I can’t smell the deception beneath your words.”
He faced her as the primal hunger tearing through him fought for dominance. Keeping his h
ands off her was possibly the hardest battle of his life.
“Just because I’m human doesn’t mean I can’t sense your deception,” she informed him defiantly as she stared back at him with narrowed eyes. “And don’t think you can intimidate me so easily.”
She straightened, anger flaring to meet the irritation she could see brewing inside him.
“It’s a damned dangerous game you and your friends are playing, Liza.” Raking his fingers through his hair, Stygian clenched his jaw and fought to deny the animal instinct that he bind her to him immediately. That he turn her need to fight against the Genetics Council and their soldiers to a hunger so hot it would blister both their senses.
“Me and my friends?” She propped slender fingers over the curve of her hips, facing him with innate feminine defiance. “Excuse me, Mr. Black, but the Navajo did not come on your land demanding your most precious treasures, nor did we lie to you to search for ghosts that may or may not exist. You and yours came to us.” Her stubborn chin lifted stubbornly. “You’ve all but taken over our capital. You attempt to force our president to bend to your will and you take advantage of an agreement the Navajo made in good faith to aid the Breeds in their battle for freedom. You”—one delicate finger was suddenly pushed with feminine arrogance into the center of his chest—“have done all that and more. If a foreign country attempted this with the U.S. president, then war would have been declared.”
Her finger retreated.
The delicate hand returned to her hip, fingers spread, legs braced slightly apart in an unconscious fighting stance.
“And you think withholding information to punish Jonas is somehow justified because we didn’t come to you begging?” he bit out between clenched teeth.
“And you believe because we do not know where three tortured victims of the Genetics Council are hiding that you can attempt to poke and prod and demand access to every part of our lives?” she questioned incredulously. “We owe you nothing, Mr. Black. But for more than a century, each time a Breed has come to the Navajo for help, we’ve given it. If we could help that poor little baby, then have no doubt every Breed in the Navajo Nation would be on Jonas Wyatt’s doorstep attempting to do just that.”
“Until now, the Navajo have always extended the information Breeds have needed.” Until the information they needed possibly imposed on a promise to another.