Wild Men of Alaska 04 - Wild Men of Alaska - Four Book Bundle

up.
    “I need you to answer me,” he said.
    She met his eyes. “Go to hell.”
    He stared at her for a very long time. She glared silently back at him. Finally, he dismounted her hips and got off the bed. Crushing the homing device with the blunt end of his switchblade on the end table, he slipped the knife back in his pocket, and examined the remains, making sure they were no longer in working order.
    Slowly he turned back to her, his hot gaze traveling over her body, her nipples hardened because of the cool air, not because of the intense scrutiny of his eyes.
    “Vhat else are you hiding?”
    He smoothed his hand over her knee, down to her calf to her ankle. Her muscles jerked in her legs as one by one he rolled down her socks and inspected them. He tossed the socks to the floor, and then leaned over her and released the button to her jeans.
    “Don’t,” she said, the word more of a dare than a warning.
    He met her eyes for a moment, and then they flicked down to her waist as he lowered her zipper.
    “Sergei.” She hated the want laced within his whispered name and prayed he hadn’t heard it.
    He shut his eyes, and then tossed his tousled black hair out of them. Both of his hands fisted around the fabric at her hips, and he yanked off her jeans in one hard move.
    She’d gone commando.
    He cursed. It didn’t matter what language he’d sworn in, she knew that word, but somehow he made it sound more dark and seductive than it should have been.
    Heart pulsing in her throat, she’d never felt as naked as having this man strip her bare.

C HAPTER T EN

    For one glorious night two long years ago, Sergei had worshipped her body, labored over her for many hours, until she responded with just the slightest touch, look, a mere whisper of words.
    She lay naked before him again, yet tied to his bed. Defiant.
    Bozhe moi , how he loved her. And she’d hate him for what he had to do next. By the green fire shooting at him from her eyes, she already hated him. She’d come to kill him, but she hadn’t. There’d been a couple times she could have, and for whatever reason she hadn’t taken the kill. Did he dare hope that she didn’t hate him as much as she wanted to?
    Guess he was about to find out.
    When he finished his search, she’d surely hate him afterward. He’d be violating her, but then she’d attacked him time and time again, and the latest attack had been her last. The tracking device had him returning to the bed after stripping off her jeans.
    She could have another device hidden anywhere.
    The act of touching her naked skin again had blood boiling through his veins and hardening the region of his body he didn’t think could get any harder.
    He sat beside her on the bed and started with her arms. Slowly he smoothed his palms from her tied wrists up to her shoulders, feeling for anything taped to her skin and examining her for injection sites were a micro chip could have been inserted.
    “You don’t have to do this,” she said. “I have nothing more concealed on me. You’ve taken it all.”
    His eyes met hers, and he swallowed at the anger and dread reflected there. “You’ve forced my hand, Katja,” he returned softly.
    She looked away. Her skin flushed, turning a rosy hue, and goose bumps appeared under his fingers. Inwardly he groaned as her nipples tightened to buds. Buds he wanted to lick and suckle.
    He had to keep this quick, impersonal, clinical, for the both of them.
    His hands traveled over her shoulders, around her neck, and under her hair. Even believing that nothing could be planted in her hair, he fanned the strands over his pillow, the red vibrant color like flames against the icy white of his pillowcase. Her eyes shuttered closed as his fingers gently traced where her neck met her spine, and he took a moment of her not watching him to scrutinize her expression. Eyes shut and lips parted, her breathing became shallow as the tips of his fingers tenderly trailed forward from her neck and around the delicate shell of her ears. He spent a lot of time there remembering how sensitive her ears were.
    Some things hadn’t changed.
    Her pulse quickened at her throat, and it was all he could do not to cover the area with his mouth and lick his way down—
    He couldn’t think this way.
    Over her collarbone and down the sides of her ribs, his hands continued as he tried to shut down his physical responses to finally touching her again. Two years had been a long time to go without. Kate had