Dragonfury 02 - Fury of Ice

her tone. “Are you all right?”
    “Ah, just…give me a second, okay?”
    She murmured something he didn’t quite catch. Assent? Impatience? He didn’t know, but the tingle hit him again, firing up neural pathways with a shitload of give-her-what-she-wants. Rubbing his hands over his skull-trim, he pressed down on the nape of his neck, fighting the need to reach out and touch her. God, what he wouldn’t give to wrap his arms around her…hold her close while he told her everything would be all right. That she didn’t need to be involved. That he would get the fucker and bring him home like a trophy.
    Alive. Dead. A combination of the two. Any way she wanted.
    But first? He had to grow a pair, draw a line in the sand, and bookend it with a big-ass NO . In Technicolor. Maybe present a slide show, too. With lots of noise and big, black letters.
    Pansy-ass pathetic. Yup. That was his new title. Now all he needed was a plaque, one that read World’s Biggest SAP , to stick on his bedroom door.
    With a sigh, Rikar dropped his hands and raised his head. And nearly jumped out of his skin. Shit, she was close. Less than an arm’s length away and…
    God. She was so beautiful. All pleading hazel eyes and messed-up auburn hair.
    His chest constricted, making him ache from the inside out. And only one thought prevailed…the softness of her skin. He knew how fine it was—how smooth it felt against his own—and he wanted to reach out and pull her in. Let his hands do the walking as he set his mouth to hers and tasted her for the first time.
    Then again.
    And again.
    His gaze dipped to her lips. She shuffled back a little, as though she knew what he was thinking, and the IV clanged against the metal stand. The sound set him straight. Christ, he was deranged. She was barely healed, hardly out of danger, the IV still embedded in the back of her hand, and he was hard for her. Disgust curled his hands into fists. He took a deep breath to calm down and got a lungful of her.
    Her scent more than anything brought him clarity. She wasn’t ready for him. Not yet. Maybe not for a while. She smelled like vulnerability, like teardrops and evergreens and fresh snow. The combo pulled on his heartstrings. The last two were all Angela, her natural scent one he recognized, had dreamed of, loved more than anything he’d encountered before. The first? Sadness and hurt that skipped into hopelessness. The mix told him to back off, that she needed a champion, not a lover.
    At least not today.
    So yeah…it had to be no. And the line had to be drawn hard.
    His world wasn’t an easy one. And homicide detective or not, she didn’t understand the ground rules. No matter what she said—how many skills she possessed or abundant the brains between her pretty ears—it was too dangerous. The Razorbacks weren’t human criminals. They were Dragonkind. A Glock and a shitload of female determination didn’t make the cut. And that was before he threw in the bonded male problem. His instincts were on overdrive, desperate to keep her safe. No way could he let her anywhere near the hunt or the bastard when he took him down.
    But as the tingle came at him again, it morphed into words— Rikar, please, help me get him . As he flinched, his gaze flipped back to hers and…no fucking fair. Sheened by tears, hazel eyes begged him to give her what she needed, to toss his “no” out the nearest window, and temptation dragged him in the wrong direction.
    What was the matter with him? His brain had gone AWOL, totally out of bounds. And, man, was he really hearing that? Or was the guilt getting to him, making him imagine the whisper.
    He shook his head, dislodging her voice from between his temples. It came right back. Please, Rikar . Tilting her head, she settled onto her knees in front of him. The IV tube pinged off steel again. His breath came faster as she tipped her chin, urging him to—
    His brows collided. Wait a second.
    What the hell was she doing? Suspicion took a nasty turn and…
    Holy fuck. She knew. Had figured out exactly how to play him. His lips twitched. Beautiful female. She was too smart by half.
    “Angela…stop it,” he murmured, tone full of warning, trying not to laugh.
    Her eyes widened the tiniest bit. “What?”
    “Figured a few things out, have you?”
    She shrugged.
    He shifted, conjuring a pair of army shorts as he shoved the sheet aside and sat Indian-style directly in front of her. The pose was comfortable, more suitable