Psy & Changelings 01 - Slave to Sensation
finding him.
If she did hunt him down despite that, heâd accept her and then heâd never let her out of his sight. Forget about freedomâhis mate was going to be protected every moment of her life. Pulling to a stop in the parking lot of the DarkRiver building, he switched off the engine and slid up the door of the car.
âDo you want to be?â
The question had him turning to face those night-sky eyes. No Psy shouldâve ever asked that. No Psy shouldâve ever heard the ambivalence in his voice. âDo you ?â
âIs it private?â She tipped her head slightly to the side.
It was a tiny movement but it wasnât in the nature of her race to make such movements.
He reached out and stroked a finger down her face, wanting to see what sheâd do. âIâll tell you the answer to that once you have skin privileges.â
She froze at his touch and then jerked away to exit the car. When he joined her on the other side, she kept at least a foot of distance between them. He wanted to close that distance badly enough to scare himself. The enemy was starting to look far too enticing. The feel of her skin had been a jolt to the senses, the dark honey like warm gold brushed with velvet, sensuous and luscious.
The panther in him craved more, while the man . . . the man was starting to think that Sascha Duncan was unique, a Psy unlike any other. Whether that made her less dangerous or more remained to be seen. What was clear was that both panther and man were captivated by her.
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Kit was waiting for them in the meeting room. âHi, Lucas.â At a fraction under six feet, the boy was tall but hadnât yet filled out. Not that it mattered at his age. With his rich auburn hair and dark blue eyes, he was never short of female company. But Lucas knew the juvenile was more than good looksâhe had the scent of a future alpha.
âSascha Duncan, meet Kit Monaghan.â
Kit smiled in that way heâd already learned brought most women to their knees, all slow burn and promises of delight. âA pleasure.â
Sascha nodded. âDo you have the designs?â
Lucas wanted to laugh at the crestfallen look on the boyâs face. âKit works part-time as a general assistant. Zara is the designer.â He shrugged out of his jacket.
As he spoke her name, a small female with mocha skin and cloud gray eyes walked in through the door behind them. Sascha immediately shifted to avoid contact but the move was so unobtrusive that neither Zara nor Kit noticed.
âIâm sorry Iâm late,â Zara said. âThe copying machine got stuck.â She was holding rolled-up copies of several designs in her arms. Lucas helped her put them on the circular table and gestured for everyone to be seated.
Sascha took a seat to his left, with Zara to her left and Kit beside the designer. Lucas had noticed Sascha glance at Zara several times since sheâd entered the room and so, apparently, had Zara. âIf you have a problem working with me, tell me now.â The petite woman wasnât one to keep silent.
Sascha didnât react in any physical way but he was sure he smelled confusion. âWhy would I have trouble working with you? Are you unable to do your job?â
âI can do my job fine,â Zara bit out. âSome people just donât like the fact that Iâm a darker shade of brown.â
âThat reaction is based on nothing but human emotion. Iâm not human.â Sascha pushed up her jacket sleeve. âIf it soothes you then please see that Iâm also a . . . darker shade of brown.â The beautiful rich honey of her skin seemed to glow even in the artificial light.
Lucas felt Kitâs beast buck at the reins and couldnât blame the boy for wanting to touch. Saschaâs skin was an invitation to the senses and now that heâd stroked it once, he found himself starving for more.
Zara laughed. âIf youâre not bothered by color, then why are you staring at me?â
âIâm not sure, but you donât appear to be a leopard.â
Lucas froze. There was no way a Psy shouldâve picked up on that. No way . Scenting another animal was a changeling trait. Precisely what the hell kind of Psy was Sascha? Had he brought a spy into his world while trying to infiltrate hers?
Zara didnât answer until he gave her a subtle nod. âIâm not. Iâm a distant
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