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He wasn’t a player—he didn’t randomly sleep with lots of women, or even very many. But he also wasn’t a saint, not by any means. And he’d never before had the urge to convince a woman to stay with him.

He didn’t know what the hell made her so damn different than other women. But he did know he needed to figure it out soon. Because he knew then, for a certainty, that his wish to walk out of there that night the same man he’d been before she showed up was long gone.

Tarun was changing him in ways he didn’t understand, in ways he wasn’t sure he was ready for. But it was happening, whether he was on board or not, and it was time to decide whether he was going to fight it or go along with it.

His mind and heart were duking it out in that moment—but, as he snuck a glance at her from the corner of his eye, he was pretty sure it was his soul that was going to decide his fate.

I flirted last night. With Luke, of all people.

Tarun touched her fingers to her lips as the thought ran through her mind on repeat, hardly able to process it. Staring out of the window in her bedroom, she looked down onto the back parking lot, where the Enforcer’s bikes were parked, along with a few trucks she knew belonged to them, as well.

It felt like she was a totally different person there than she was back home. Her brother had always allowed her more freedom than most of the women in her tribe were given, but she never took advantage of it. Even when Kian changed the rules and women were granted the right to live their lives the way they wanted, she still never fully embraced it.

Oh, she ditched her saris, the traditional Indian dress, and began wearing jeans and t-shirts. But in every other way, she was still the dutiful Indian woman her tribe expected women to be. The only reason she even moved into her own home was because Jameson found his mate and she wanted to give him and Cady space to themselves.

All those freedoms granted to her and she never took advantage of them. She’d always just thought it was who she was. Other women, like Arya, had dreamed of being able to do whatever they wanted. Longed for the time when restrictions wouldn’t stand in their way of being who they wanted to be. And they’d embraced their new futures wholeheartedly.

Tarun never felt like she was suppressed, or like her life wasn’t anything other than what she wanted it to be. She’d never felt like she was stifled, or like she wasn’t her. Probably because she’d been given so much more freedom than the other women. But regardless why, the only thing the rule changes had done for her was allow her to have a job and move into her own cottage. She was still her.

Or so she thought.

Maybe she’d been the same because even though the rules had changed, she was still in Durga. Still living essentially the same life. Still feeling bound by the rules of her society, even though those rules had shifted and changed.

Now, in a new place, with new people and different surroundings, she felt like a new person. Like she’d been a butterfly trapped in a cocoon all her life and was finally, slowly, inch by inch, emerging from her trappings.

She was different. It felt like she was becoming the Tarun she’d always been inside but had never been able to truly find.

And she liked it.

She just wasn’t sure she liked that Luke was the one who was helping to pull her out of her cocoon.

He was arrogant and a tad condescending. He refused her help, and ordered her to go home like he had the right to tell her what to do. He acted far too much like the jackass warriors in her tribe who thought it was their God given right to micromanage a woman’s life—the ones who thought that women couldn’t think for themselves.

No. He’s not like the warriors at all, her tiger protested.

He thinks he can tell me what to do.

He didn’t do it because he gets off on it. He did it because he’s trying to protect you.

I can take care of myself, so his reasons are moot.

Then show him you can. And maybe he’ll come to realize that on his own.

Exhaling, she leaned her forehead against the cool glass of the window. She couldn’t argue with what her animal said. And she couldn’t fault Luke’s reasons. She didn’t like that he was trying to tell her what to do, but he was doing it because he was concerned for her.

That alone was the distinction between him and the warriors. They didn’t order women around out of any concern for them—they did it because they could. Because it made them feel powerful. Because they’d been raised to believe it was their right.

So maybe… well, maybe that meant she could relax a little more around Luke. That maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing that she was trying to grow her flirting skills with him. It didn’t have to mean anything more than her practicing on him.

She snorted to herself. Right. And the sky was green.

Movement caught her eye and she straightened, watching with interest as Luke walked into the parking lot, his powerful stride taking him in the directions of the bikes lined up side by side. He was wearing black boots on his feet, his long legs encased in jeans, and he had on a leather jacket with some sort of skull emblem on the back.

It dawned on her that he was going for a ride, and she perked up. She’d always wanted to ride on a motorcycle, and there he was, presenting her with a golden opportunity. Turning around, she shoved her feet into the boots she’d brought along, and then rushed out of her room and down the stairs, hoping he hadn’t left yet.

The chance to get out and live, to experience more of life than could be found in her tiny village, was right in front of her and she didn’t want to waste it. She’d been nervous when she left Durga. But it was like, once she was away from the War Cats and tasted a little bit of what the world had to offer, she’d become insatiable. She wanted to experience it all. Her soul thirsted for it.

Rushing out of the back door, she let out a relieved breath as she caught sight of Luke standing by a motorcycle. Hurrying forward, the gravel crunching under her feet, she quickly made her way over to him.


Tags: Grace Brennan Paranormal