• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

Claire didn’t tell him that Wilhelm had ordered her to stay at the country house. It had bothered her then, but now, being forced to hold Andreas’s piercing gaze, she felt more than an inkling of shame to think that her mate would willingly keep her in harm’s way. Of course, she had never presented herself as a hapless, helpless female, and Wilhelm wouldn’t have expected her to remain in Andreas’s company unless he trusted she could handle the situation.

That rationalization felt a bit hollow when she recalled the caustic way he’d told her to do whatever she must to detain Andreas for the long hours until the agents were able to get there. You know him better than most. I’m sure you’ll think of something.

“It must be near dusk.” Andreas’s deep voice ran up her skin like a charge. “How long do you suppose it will take Roth to get here?”

Claire blinked, then shook her head. “I don’t know what you mean.”

His answering smile was cold, unconvinced. “Are you really going to sit there and pretend that you didn’t seek him out for help and to warn him about me?” When she would have attempted to deny it, his mouth went a little tighter. “Just so you know, Claire, I hope you did go to him. I hope you told him to come as fast as he could, because I’m damned well ready to end this.”

Her blood chilled. “Are you really so eager to die, Andre?”

He scoffed. “I’m not the one you need to worry about.”

Amber sparks lit up his irises, and she could see the points of his sharp white fangs as he spoke, potent reminders that although his anger seemed to have banked, it wouldn’t take much for it to ignite again. It might be safer to try to lie to him, but she felt she owed him some honesty regardless of the risks. “All right. I did go to Wilhelm. I dreamwalked to him while you were in the cellar, just as you guessed. But your misguided need for vengeance will have to wait because he’s not coming.”

“You told him I was here?”

“Yes.” Claire stood up as Andreas took a step closer to her on the bench. “He’s my mate. I had to warn him.”

“You told him about the fires? About his Darkhaven in Hamburg?” At her nod, his eyes narrowed on her. He inched nearer, crowding her between his big body and the upholstered bench pressed tightly against the back of her legs. “Does he know that you are left alone with me, at my mercy?”

Claire swallowed. “He knows all of that.”

And still he’s not coming.

Although Andreas didn’t speak the words, they were written clearly enough on his face. Claire glanced away from him because it was suddenly too hard to hold his knowing stare. To her utter shock, she felt his fingers light gently beneath her chin. When she followed that guiding touch, lifting her eyes back up to him, there was nothing the least bit gentle in his expression.

“Does he have any idea how dangerous it is for you to be alone with me like this, Claire?”

He searched her face, his warm breath skating across her brow. He stood so close to her, she could feel his heartbeat pounding, the strong, steady drum of it doing something crazy to her own pulse, as well.

An unbidden yearning kicked up inside her, hot and twisting. It took all her strength of will not to turn her cheek into his palm and nuzzle against the warm curve of his fingers against her skin.

This was wrong.

This was insane.

Oh, God… this was something she hadn’t known for such a long time.

Which only proved that Andreas was right. Being alone with him like this was very, very dangerous.

“If you were mine,” he murmured low under his breath, “I would walk through the fires of hell itself to keep you away from a man like me.”

Claire stared into his amber-flecked eyes, unsure what to say to him. Unsure what to think. All she knew was the feeling that was suddenly ablaze inside her—a kindling sense of longing and regret that shook her to her core.

It was regret that won out.

Scowling suddenly, Andreas broke her gaze. He glanced over his shoulder, head cocked slightly to the side, listening.