Primal Heat 05 - Darkness Reborn

and lavender filled the air, so subtle, so faint that he wouldn't even have noticed it if he hadn't been searching for it so relentlessly.
    Lilac and lavender. Hot damn. She smelled right.
    Her green eyes searched his, and in them he saw pain and fear, so deeply etched it had become a part of her soul. But at the same time, they flashed with defiance and courage, a woman who had not surrendered to the burden she carried. Respect surged through him, igniting his lust even further.
    But it was more than respect and lust. It was a raw, burning need to drag her over to him and make her his, in any and every way that he could.
    She swallowed, and he felt her rising nervousness. "What do you want?" she asked.
    Sweet Jesus. Her voice was like the choir of angels. Desire exploded through him, a yearning so powerful he could barely contain it. He had spent his life fighting the carnal urges that were a part of being a Calydon male, determined not to let it rule him and put him in a position where a woman could bring him down. But with those four words, this woman had unleashed all the raw sexual need he'd held at bay for so long.
    She had to be Catherine. She had to be his sheva . There was no other explanation for the intensity of his response…but Catherine had died eight months ago. Her spirit couldn't have been reincarnated into a twenty-something body that was already alive.
    What the hell was going on?
    He needed answers. He had to know. He wanted to feel her body against his, to crush her into him and feel their bodies come together. He needed to dive deep into her soul and see who she really was, and he needed it now . The pulsing of music from the band vibrated through him, the deep base thudding in every cell in his body. "Dance with me," he said hoarsely, his voice raw with lust and need. "Dance with me."

Sneak Peek: ICE
    (Alaska Heat, Book One)
    (Romantic Suspense, Available Now)

    Kaylie's hands were shaking as she rifled through her bag, searching for her yoga pants. She needed the low-slung black ones with a light pink stripe down the side. The cuffs were frayed from too many wearings to the grocery store late at night for comfort food, and they were her go-to clothes when she couldn't cope. Like now.
    She couldn't find them.
    "Come on!" Kaylie grabbed her other suitcase and dug through it, but they weren't there. "Stupid pants! I can't—" A sob caught at her throat and she pressed her palms to her eyes, trying to stifle the swell of grief. "Sara—"
    Her voice was a raw moan of pain, and she sank to the thick shag carpet. She bent over as waves of pain, of loneliness, of utter grief shackled her. For her parents, her brother, her family and now Sara—
    Dear God, she was all alone.
    "Dammit, Kaylie! Get up!" she chided herself. She wrenched herself to her feet. "I can do this." She grabbed a pair of jeans and a silk blouse off the top of her bag and turned toward the bathroom. One step at a time. A shower would make her feel better.
    She walked into the tiny bathroom, barely noticing the heavy wood door as she stepped inside and flicked the light switch. Two bare light bulbs flared over her head, showing a rustic bathroom with an ancient footed tub and a raw wood vanity with a battered porcelain sink. A tiny round window was on her right. It was small enough to keep out the worst of the cold, but big enough to let in some light and breeze in the summer.
    She was in Alaska, for sure. God, what was she doing here?
    Kaylie tossed the clean clothes on the sink and unzipped her jacket, dropping it on the floor. She tugged all her layers off, including the light blue sweater that had felt so safe this morning when she'd put it on. She stared grimly at her black lace bra, so utterly feminine, exactly the kind of bra that her mother had always considered frivolous and completely impractical. Which it was. Which was why that was the only style Kaylie ever wore.
    She should never have come to Alaska. She didn't belong here. She couldn't handle this. Kaylie gripped the edge of the sink. Her hands dug into the wood as she fought against the urge to curl into a ball and cry.
    After a minute, Kaylie lifted her head and looked at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were wide and scared, with dark circles beneath. Her hair was tangled and flattened from her wool hat. There was dirt caked on her cheeks.
    Kaylie rubbed her hand over her chin, and the streaks of mud didn't come off.
    She tried again, then realized she had smudges