Jordana struggled to find her voice for a second. “Excuse me?”
Caught in his grasp with only inches between them, she stood there immobile, her hands splayed on his broad chest. Though he was wearing a T-shirt, her palms burned with the heat rolling off the firm planes and bulges of his body beneath the soft black cotton that covered him.
His eyes bored into her, and she realized she never knew what color they were until now. Deep, greenish blue, they looked like the sky just before the arrival of a brutal storm.
That same dark, arresting stare had held her across the room of the museum last night.
Demanding.
Possessive.
Even now, she found it hard to tear herself away from Nathan’s unnerving gaze. “I, um … I was looking for packing tape for Carys,” she blurted. “She gave me directions for the supply room, but I must be lost.”
He grunted, one black brow lifting almost imperceptibly.
Jordana rushed on, hating how he unsettled her. “Usually when I’m here at the mansion, I keep to the residential areas.”
“As you should,” he said. “You don’t belong down here.”
The words were rough gravel, a deep rumble that vibrated through her spread fingers, which were still pressed against his chest.
The low thunder of his voice traveled into her limbs. Into the suddenly quivering center of her body.
Jordana yanked her hands away from him, cradling her crossed fists to her breast. “I’m just … I’m going to go now, then.”
God help her, but he kept on staring at her, watching her dangle on the strings of her own unease around him. His harsh, handsome face was so unreadable, she wondered if he was actually looking at her or through her.
The way he studied her, Jordana felt … exposed. She felt stripped and vulnerable under his penetrating eyes. Completely at his mercy.
His dark eyes drifted to her mouth and she was instantly reminded of the kiss they shared. Well, not shared exactly, considering she was the one who’d done all the kissing.
Nathan had stood there much the way he was now, rock solid, unshakable.
Maddeningly cool and in control.
Jordana wondered how he did it—how he could seem so unaffected yet hold her in a gaze that made her instincts come alive with an anticipation bordering on the profane. Ever fiber in her body was tuned to him, even though her head was telling her to run away. Telling her to avoid this dangerous man and the dark temptations that lurked in his stormy eyes.
What did her senses know about Nathan that her mind had not yet grasped?
Maybe if she kissed him again, she could figure out what it was about this Breed male that had her so flustered and confused.
A low snarl gathered at the back of his throat now. “Come with me.”
It wasn’t a request. It was a command, and even though she wanted desperately to refuse, her feet were already moving beneath her, following his gruff order.
Jordana assumed he was bringing her back to the residential wing of the estate. Instead, she soon found herself trailing him down another snaking corridor, heading for a closed door near the end of the passageway.
Nathan opened the door, then turned to her. “Inside.”
She glanced past him to the unlit room on the other side of the threshold.
And apparently her body still trusted him more than her head, because she walked into the inky gloom without so much as a word of doubt.
He followed her in, so close she could feel his body heat searing the length of her back.
It was impossible not to acknowledge the danger of walking into a dark room in a long, empty corridor with the most lethal man she would probably ever know.
And yet her pulse was kicking in her veins. Her skin felt tight, too warm. Not with fear, even though it should be.