“Elliott and I are not lovers,” she said, pushing the words out of her mouth before she was too afraid to bite them back. “I’ve never been with him in that way.”
Something flickered in the depths of his dark eyes. “And you don’t want him like that either.”
Jordana frowned, hating that Nathan could know that about her so easily. “I’ve never wanted anyone like that. There’s been … no one.”
“No one?” Nathan seemed to go even more still where he stood. The only movement she could detect in him was the ticking of a tendon along the line of his jaw. “He wants you, this Elliott Bentley-Squire. He’s waited a year to bond you to him by blood. How long do you think you can keep him from claiming you, Jordana?”
“Elliott is a patient man. He’ll wait until I decide it’s time.”
Nathan gave a harsh grunt. “Then he’s not the kind of mate you need. Not the kind of male a woman like you deserves.”
She collected her courage enough to meet his challenge with one of her own. “What could you possibly know about what I need or deserve?”
He stepped in tighter to her, crowding her backward with the massive breadth of his body. “Have you ever kissed Elliott Bentley-Squire the way you kissed me?”
She didn’t answer, couldn’t form words with him this close to her.
“Has he ever made your cheeks flame just by looking at you, or made your pulse beat like a hammer in your veins because of the things you wish he’d do to you?”
Jordana swallowed. She exhaled a shaky breath edged with a humiliating whimper. Somehow she managed to find her voice amid the tumult of confusion and dark, unwanted desire that was swirling like a tempest inside her. “I suppose you’re arrogant enough to believe that I should want someone like you instead?”
He chuckled then, low and humorless. “No, Jordana. I’m the last kind of man you should want in your life … or in your bed.”
And yet he didn’t move away from her. He just kept her caged with his body for a seemingly endless moment of time.
His irises crackled with tiny sparks of amber as he stared at her. Only the barest tips of his fangs were noticeable behind the lush line of his upper lip.
Jordana felt him reach between the scant distance of their bodies to take her hand. His fingers were warm and strong, so large and commanding as he held her in his firm, guiding grasp.
He uncurled her loose fist, only to place something hard and round, cold and sleek, in her palm. Of course. The roll of packing tape.
“Go back to where you belong now, Jordana.” He drew away from her at last, leaving her standing in a chilled, confused state of arousal and rejection. “Get out,” he said, a warning in the curt command.
Jordana held the tape to her chest and could hardly scramble for the door fast enough.
As she started to rush for the corridor, he added, “That kiss was a mistake, Jordana—for both of us. But don’t expect me to believe you’re any more sorry than I am that it happened.”
6
IF HIS MORNING HAD STARTED OFF IN A BAD WAY, BY AFTERNOON it hadn’t improved a bit. After his encounter with Jordana, as much as Nathan craved an outlet for his tightly leashed aggression, he didn’t want to risk killing any of his teammates if he joined them in the day’s combat exercises in the weapons room.>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?