Dragonfury 02 - Fury of Ice

plans. She hadn’t meant to go all in and decide to stay, but as the idea sank deep, the cop in her nodded. Made sense. Felt right. She couldn’t go after Lothair by herself. She needed a partner—a man-dragon to help her find and kill the rat-bastard.
    Justice. On her terms. Lothair laid out on a slab.
    “I want in.” The words cemented her resolve, leveling her chin.
    Rikar’s gaze narrowed on her.
    “He hurt me.” She tapped the gun muzzle against her chest, right over her heart. “Me! Not you.”
    “Bullshit.” His eyes the color of ice chips, a muscle jumped along his jaw. “What happens to you, happens to me. We’re connected now, angel. I feel you with every breath I take.”
    “Then help me,” she whispered, knowing what she asked wasn’t fair. Strong men didn’t give up control or react well to manipulation. She didn’t care. He was her best chance. The only one she had to make the bastard pay. Holding his gaze, she pulled an ace out of her sleeve and begged, “Please, Rikar…I can’t do it by myself. I deserve justice. Please help me get him.”
    He growled, and Angela held her breath. Please, Rikar . The silent plea whispered through her mind. His hand flexed in the quilt, white-knuckling the patchwork fabric like it would keep him from exploding. And as she watched him she wondered…
    Could he read her mind?
    It seemed like a strange idea. But weirder than changing into a dragon? Not by much. Add that to the realization he’d messed with her that night at McGovern’s, and…yeah. The whole mind-meld thing seemed less like fiction and more like fact.
    Her eyes narrowed on him.
    He leaned back, the movement so small she wouldn’t have caught it had she not been watching closely. Jackpot. No doubt about it. His reaction to her went soul-deep, beyond the physical. She felt the connection, the drawing pull, a neediness just like her own. The knowledge made her heart ache for him. No good would come from wanting her…from the push-pull of craving what could never be.
    She didn’t belong in his world. He didn’t belong in hers. But maybe for a little while they could work together toward a common goal. She wanted Lothair dead and knew, without a shadow of doubt, Rikar would lay the bastard out to please her. So instead of backing away like she should have, Angela opened her mind wide, determined to persuade him that she was right.

     
    Sensation slid over his temples as Rikar stared at Angela. The tingle turned into a throb, tightening muscle over his bones as silence echoed between them. She used the quiet like a Brillo pad, rubbing him raw, pushing her agenda as she met his gaze: no shyness, no bullshit, one thing on her mind. She wanted access to his world, in on the action…with his blessing.
    Tempting. It was oh so tempting to give in and help her.
    Which was no doubt her plan. Diabolical to the next freaking level.
    She was playing both ends against the middle, making him choose between keeping her safe and giving her what she wanted. Right. Wrong. Two polar opposites that didn’t mean shit while seated across from a beautiful female determined to get her way. And as the fine line between should and shouldn’t became blurred, Rikar shook his head.
    Clever, clever female. Angela was undeniably brilliant. Zeroing in like a pit bull. Sniffing out his weakness for her. Using it against him…without conscience or mercy. So, yeah, he was pretty much screwed; stuck trying to make himself say “no.”
    Planting his palms, he went chin-to-chest, then rolled his shoulders to ease the tension. The muscles bracketing his spine stretched, stinging as he shifted to the center of the bed, putting more distance between them. He needed a minute to pull himself together. To forget for a moment how much he wanted to please her and instead formulate an argument. One that started and ended with no fucking way . Or over my dead body . Whatever. Either would work, just as long as she got the point and left the hunting up to him.
    “Rikar?”
    The hitch in her voice—the soft, yet undeniable plea—lit him up. He clenched his teeth as the bonded male in him came to attention. Uh-oh. Big trouble now. The territorial bastard that lived inside him was on board. With what and which plan—his?…Angela’s?—Rikar couldn’t tell, but whatever the agenda, having his baser instincts banging around couldn’t be a good thing. At least not for him.
    On her knees now, she leaned toward him, concern in