Demon Forged

and tore at his. “I need you in me now .”
    In his body, she felt a hesitation. In his eyes, she saw calculation.
    They both lasted only an instant, but she could think over that hesitation in the same amount of time. By the next instant, she understood.
    The night before, she’d spoken of her disappointment that he had not fought for her—for any woman. And Olek wanted her. But this was not about fighting for her. He hadn’t intended that soft kiss to come to this, but just to sweeten her. And during that hesitation, he’d weighed the consequences of going further than he’d anticipated.
    Yes, he’d had some subtle plan, because that was Olek. But not because he’d decided to fight for her. This was about his pride. Whether he wanted to prove something to himself or to her, she did not know.
    She did not care.
    Irena ripped away, leaving him on the table. He came up halfway, onto his elbow, and looked at her between his bent knees. The beauty of him, reddened by her mouth and disheveled by her hands, struck painfully deep. She’d always wanted to see him this way. The urge to return to him battled with the hurt that awaited her if they finished this for his reasons.
    Even if his reasons had been lost beneath his own need. His eyes had darkened. They didn’t calculate now, but questioned.
    Her body was taut, her voice even. “I do not wish to fuck your pride, Olek.”
    He didn’t answer. And that, she thought, was answer enough.
    She recreated her clothes. Her fingers shook when she dragged them through her hair.
    “Irena—”
    Her fury erupted. She struck at his silk-tongued mouth—and controlled herself at the last instant. She drove her fist through the table surface between his legs, instead.
    The wood cracked, buckled. The table collapsed, taking Olek and his pride to the floor.
    She left them lying there.

    Alejandro sat, his head a heavy weight in his hands and anger burning through him—all of it directed at himself.
    He was an idiot. And he should have anticipated her reaction when she realized what he was up to. But he hadn’t thought she would realize it. Stubborn, blinkered woman—yet she had seen. He’d prepared for the hammer and hadn’t expected the sword.
    And he hadn’t known that soft kiss would spark an uncontrollable blaze. He should have known. Passion had never been a problem between them, even if they had only kissed the once.
    Twice now. He could still feel her against him. Could still see her face as she’d pulled away.
    God, what an unbelievable idiot he was. And if only he could see what to do now.
    He couldn’t.
    The door opened. Lilith stepped into the room with her hellhound at her side, and stopped short. Her lips pursed as she looked at him sitting in the middle of the broken table, his shirt ripped open.
    “You trashed my conference room.”
    Alejandro rubbed his hand over his eyes. “Yes.”
    Her heels clipped across the floor. She crouched and picked out the catalog from the remnants of the table near his hip. “Was it because of this?”
    “No.”
    “Damn.” She stood, the catalog rolled in her hand. “All right. My office, one hour. And, for fuck’s sake, with your prick in your pants.”
    He didn’t need to look. “It is.”
    “No.” Lilith’s smile wasn’t kind. “Obviously it’s not, because four walls are still standing, and she’s not laid out on the floor next to you.”
    His fingers clenched. And he’d let her go again. He should have gone after her and explained . . . what? That he’d been manipulating her? That his pride had been stung?
    Irena already knew.
    The door closed quietly behind Lilith. Alejandro rose to his feet, vanishing the table into his cache.
    Even if they moved beyond the past, what of the present? Irena could not compromise; he could not draw as severe a line as she did. How to win her, without yielding his honor and everything he believed was right? It was impossible.
    But to accept that it was impossible? To give up?
    He could not do that again, either.

    Earlier that morning, when Jorgenson had called Taylor into his office, she’d thought the tension in that room had been thick. But the captain could have taken lessons from the two Guardians standing on opposite sides of Lilith and Castleford’s office. Irena, in particular, had her death glare down to an art.
    And Jorgenson had said her attitude needed adjusting. She’d have liked to introduce him to Irena.
    So, for the first time in two years, she