Someone wants her. And someone else wants her…dead.
If life as a not-fully-human has taught Agent Grace Masterson anything, it’s that she’ll never again be anyone’s sitting duck. Whoever is deftly evading the traps around her remote sanctuary outside Seattle, she intends to shove his easily sensed self-confidence way, way up where the sun don’t shine.When she comes face to face—and body to body—with Darrius Hilliard, relief and lingering guilt over past choices weaken her knees. Plus something bad. Really bad. A surprising, intense desire for her fellow agent.
Darrius knows what Grace needs, and it’s not the kid-glove treatment. If she’s ever to overcome her past trauma and return to full active duty status with the P.I.A, she needs a strong shoulder. Yet he’s shocked at how quickly he’s become physically and emotionally entwined with her.
Fighting their growing attraction to one another becomes secondary, though, when it becomes clear that someone not only isn’t thrilled at Grace’s return, they want her gone. Maybe even dead…
Coming November 27th
“Here you are. One mug of tea for my uninvited guest.” She set a steaming mug in front of him. “Do you need cream? Sugar?”
When she moved to turn away, he caught her wrist, stopping her retreat. Her pale blue eyes widened and panic flickered in them.
“Thank you. The tea is fine as it is.” He stroked his thumb over the pulse in her delicate wrist, felt it pounding faster than it should’ve been. “But you’re not, Grace. You haven’t spoken to anyone about what happened a couple months ago. Or how the hell you even got involved in such a mess. Why don’t you try talking? Try talking to me.”
Darrius watched the myriad of emotions flicker across her face.
Shock, pain, rage and fear again. He could pretty much pinpoint each one, and likely why she felt it, especially the rage. People didn’t bring it up, didn’t dare talk about it. So how dare he?
He could see the question in her gaze, the sudden rigidness in her shoulders, and yet she didn’t pull away or try to remove his hand from her wrist. She seemed too stunned.
Everyone had been tiptoeing around the victims. Even though each one had been sent a request to be interviewed, none of them had agreed.
And what could they do? They couldn’t force it. The line was a bit finer with Grace, because she was a federal agent. What she’d done could impact her job, and the consequences of her actions had still yet to be seen.
The most messed up thing about it was the whole experiment had been legal.
Though they’d wanted to prosecute the bitch behind it all, she’d covered her ass by having the shifters sign a contract indicating they knew exactly what they were doing and the risks involved.Thankfully the drug hadn’t worked, but instead whatever had been given to them caused them to shift almost continuously between wolf and human. It had nearly killed all the victims. Including Grace.
“I just don’t understand why you did it. Why you would willingly sign up for such a messed up thing?” He shook his head. “You’re a shifter, being part wolf is in your DNA. Why the hell would you sign up to be given a drug that tried to subdue that side of you?”
Grace flinched and he saw the flicker of agony in her gaze before it was gone.
“I’m not going to discuss this. Not now, now ever.” She glanced pointedly down at his fingers that restrained her, and then back at him. “Do you mind?”
He found himself reluctant to release her, which startled him into obeying her request. He liked the delicateness of her wrist. How soft her skin was. The smell of her lotion—
What the fucking hell was wrong with him? She was an agent on his team, and he’d damn well better remember that.
Darrius pursed his lips and curled his hands around the mug in front of him instead.
“Thank you. I don’t like being touched.” She hesitated. “More so lately.” And yet in the garage, right after she’d been ready to blow his head off, she’d seemed to melt into his arms, cling to him almost desperately. Unless he’d imagined that.
“I’m trying to be real with you,” he said with quiet determination. “Maybe the other guys will dance around with what happened. Maybe they’re fine ignoring you and just letting you bounce back when you’re ready, but I’m not willing to go that route.”
Her mouth tightened. “Well, doesn’t that make you an insensitive asshole.”
“So what if it does. I want you to talk about it. Otherwise I don’t think it’s going to happen.”
“You don’t think what’s going to happen?” Exasperation radiated through her words.
“Unless you start facing what happened, I don’t think you’re going to bounce back.”