Warriors of Poseidon 06 - Atlantis Betrayed

continued, as if unaware of her reaction. “Proud and unbending, like its owner.”
    She dismissed his flight of fancy. “A conqueror. A predator.”
    He turned to face her, the heat from his body radiating through the inches separating them until she felt herself beginning to lean forward into him. She stumbled back a step and raised the gun, aiming it at his heart.
    He didn’t pay the slightest attention to it. Those green eyes lasered into her as he tilted his head. “And you don’t care for predators? You, who yourself live your life in search of prey? Dressed like a ninja?”
    “My prey doesn’t breathe.”
    “Doesn’t it? The treasures of a society are not the living, breathing representations of its history?”
    Not an idiot, then. In spite of those cheekbones and sculpted lips. The pretty boy had a mind.
    Click. Eight minutes.
    “Bit fancy for a predator, isn’t it? I’d imagine predators use more practical blades.”
    Atlantis Betrayed – Warriors of Poseidon 06
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    His attention snapped back to her, that piercing focus almost palpable. “Funny. I was thinking something similar earlier tonight.”
    “Why were you thinking about Vanquish?”
    “I plan to steal it.”
    A jolt of sheer adrenaline raced through her, chasing chills down her spine, and she whirled around to face him straight on. “No. You can’t. It’s mine.”

Chapter 5
    Christophe’s mental warning system for critical danger had stood him in good stead for many long years and saved his ass, not to mention his life, on too many occasions to count. Right now warnings were flashing through his brain on high alert. This woman was clearly dangerous. She was definitely trouble.
    He should be wary and on his guard.
    Instead, he was elated.
    She was a little bit of a thing, maybe five and a half feet tall, but she seemed bigger because pure attitude added a few inches. And those ice blue eyes—well, even without the husky, sexy purr of her voice, he would ignore more than a little warning flare for the chance to see her face. The silk of her loose garments couldn’t hide her ripe, curvy body, and a wicked corner of his mind kept picturing what she might look like in his bed, wearing nothing but that scarlet mask.
    His cock hardened at the thought of it, and it was almost enough to distract him from what she’d said.
    Almost. Vanquish was hers? He thought not, lovely ass or no.
    “What’s yours?” He schooled his voice to calm, silken menace and allowed power to glow in his eyes and resonate through his words. Grown men—humans, shifters, and vamps alike—had all trembled at the sound of that voice.
    She laughed.
    “Ooh, scary glowy eyes. Do you try that trick on everyone, or just the odd ninja you meet when you’re planning a heist?” She glanced at her watch and, in spite of the casual amusement in her voice, he could tell her anxiety level was ratcheting up. Whatever she was up to, it looked like she was running out of time.
    “You didn’t answer my question.” He stepped closer, taking two quick strides, until he was so close to her that the barrel of her gun pressed into his chest and the scent of her tantalized him.
    She didn’t have it in her to shoot him.
    He was almost sure.
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    “Back away, big boy,” she told him, pressing her body weight, such that it was, into the warning until the gun dug into his skin beneath his shirt. “Don’t make me shoot you. It would be messy, and who needs that?”
    “What are you trying to steal?” he repeated, ignoring the gun and the banter, because it was pretty obvious exactly what she’d meant.
    She sighed and stepped back, then lowered her gun and flicked something small and silvery at the base of the glass case. “More than twenty-three thousand gems in this collection, and we’re both after the Siren. Too bad, you really are extremely luscious, but that gem is mine.”
    Before he could think of a response, she tucked her gun into a holster on her leather belt and stepped closer to him. Her scent teased him again, swamping his senses with the light fragrance of jasmine underneath a spring rain.
    “Perhaps just a taste? As a sort of good-bye?” she murmured, maybe to herself, and then she rose up on her tiptoes and pulled his head down to hers with one hand. With the other, she lifted her mask a little and pressed a soft, gentle caress of a kiss against his lips. Utter shock kept him