Temptation's Heat (2 page)

“My apologies, sir, for interrupting.”

Scarlet caught the hint of accent. Not British, as she’d expected, but something else. Irish, or maybe Scottish?

“It’s my fault, Father,” Lily said. “I insisted. I thought you’d want to meet Rowen before we get him settled.”

Her father pushed his chair back from the desk. Scarlet hurried to his side, taking his hand to help him rise. She had to swallow a pang of sadness. She could still see him, young and virile, sparring against the Guard as Scarlet, armed with a miniature training sickle and glaive of her own, watched with envy, determined that she, too, would one day fight alongside the men her father trained, the fiercest of the Corp’s warriors.

“Please, come in,” her father said to Rowen, still standing in the doorway. “Don’t mind my Scarlet. Her bark is worse than her bite.”

Embarrassment heated her cheeks, but she bit back a smart-ass retort. She couldn’t care less about Rowen Black, but she wouldn’t disrespect her father.

The air seemed to change as Rowen stepped forward, charging the atmosphere with something so powerful, so
male
, it made it difficult to breathe.

His body was poetry in motion, his movements imbued with a catlike grace that made Scarlet think of a panther moving through the jungle. He exuded menace, and Scarlet had to stifle a powerful pang of attraction.

She forced her eyes away. Desire wasn’t something she allowed herself to feel often. At twenty-one, she was no virgin, but she’d learned the hard way that men were a complication she couldn’t afford. Especially the men of the Guard.

Rowen extended one hand while keeping the other one on his glaive. “Rowen Black. It’s an honor to meet you, sir.”

Scarlet’s father shook his hand. “The honor is all mine.”

Rowen’s laugh was a bark. “I doubt that.”

To Scarlet’s surprise, her father chuckled. “It’s true that you have a … reputation. But somehow, I don’t think that tells the whole story about you, Rowen Black.” Rowen’s face registered surprise in the moment before the wall dropped over his face again, rendering his expression inscrutable. “I see you’ve already met Lily.” He turned to Scarlet. “This is my oldest daughter, Scarlet.”

Rowen’s eyes darkened as they met hers. “Scarlet.”

Her name was a caress on his lips. Or maybe she was only imagining it. Imagining the languorous way his mouth formed the word, as if he wanted to savor it.

She tried to smile benignly despite the lust rushing through her bloodstream.

“And this is my son, Ivan.”

Ivan’s face was tight, his eyes appraising, as he shook Rowen’s hand.

“Well, then,” her father said. “I’m sure you are tired. I’ll have Lily show you to your quarters—”

“Actually, I have something in the oven. Perhaps Scarlet can …”

Their father nodded. “All right, then. Scarlet, please show Rowen to his quarters. I believe we have him set up on the third floor, down the hall from your own rooms, in fact.”

Perfect,
Scarlet thought. All she wanted was to get as far away from Rowen Black as she could. To cool off her overheating body and remind herself why she didn’t date members of the Guard.

Scarlet shot Lily a dirty look as she left the room.

Five

Rowen followed Scarlet up a staircase to the third floor. Electricity crackled under his skin at the view of her luscious ass ascending in front of him, the black pants showcasing her sculpted thighs. Heat rushed outward from his abdomen, a fine sheen of sweat slicking his brow.

He was no stranger to the heat. But the sweat? That was new.

No woman had ever made him sweat. Hell, no woman had ever made him think twice once he’d left her bed. So why was this female fucking with his head when they’d hardly exchanged two words? Sure, she was hot. But the world was full of hot women.

It was something else. A contradiction between the lush body—soft enough to make him want to run his hands over the curve of her waist, her hips—and the fire in her eyes.

He was suddenly aware that she was talking.

“… breakfast at seven and training at nine, unless you’re on assignment,” she said as they stepped onto the third floor landing.

“How will I know if I’m on assignment?”

Her answer was curt. “You’ll know.”

Rowen slowed when he noticed a line of portraits marching down the wall. His gaze was drawn to one of a dark-haired man with a brooding gaze, a strong jaw jutting out from a high-collared shirt, defiantly untied at the neck.

Rowen dropped his eyes to the brass plate at the bottom of the frame:
Raum Baranova
.

“My great-great-grandfather,” Scarlet said softly from his side.

He looked down at her, catching a whiff of old-fashioned roses, like the kind his grandmother had grown. Under the scent was something muskier and sensual that he couldn’t place.

“He founded the Alliance,” Rowen said, almost choking on the desire moving through his veins.

“Actually, that’s not entirely true,” Scarlet refuted.

“It’s a historical fact of the Alliance,” Rowen said tightly, although the correction didn’t dampen his lust. “One we all learn in Modern History of Peripheral Organizations.”

“Yes, well, Raum
was
my great-great-grandfather. And I know for a fact that the Alliance was already in existence when he joined. He did, however, found the Shadowguard. It’s because of him that the Alliance finally put a premium on fighting the Legion at all.” He caught the pride in her voice. “Before he came to New York, the descendants were content to sit back and wait for the Legion to violate the Treaty. We were all defense before Raum.”

She continued down the hall. Rowen, feeling oddly intoxicated, followed her scent. He sucked in a breath. He needed to get his shit together. He was acting like a damn puppy.

She stopped at a large wood door near the end of the hallway, pulling a gold chain threaded with keys from inside her blouse. He had the sudden image of her pendant, nestled between the creamy swell of her breasts, and had to force himself to look away.

“These will be your quarters while you’re here.” She opened the door. “We all have a bedroom, private bath, sitting room, and small kitchenette. There’s a larger kitchen and living area downstairs.”

“Are we permitted to live elsewhere?” he asked. “Providing it’s nearby, of course.”

“It’s discouraged unless you’re married. Then you have to live elsewhere, unless your spouse is also a member of the Guard.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Does that happen?”

“Not yet.”

“So there aren’t rules against … fraternization?” The question escaped his lips before he could think about it.

He wondered if it was his imagination that she blushed. “Not explicitly. No.”

“But?” Rowen prodded.

She shook her head. “Nothing. I just think it’s a bad idea. I don’t do it, and I think anyone that does is asking for trouble.” She gave him a tight smile. “But that’s just me. You should feel free to do what you want. Eva is single.”

“Eva?”

Scarlet shrugged. “She’s the only other female here. Unless you’re interested in Lily, and she’s not really part of the Guard. She prefers baking over fighting.”

“I’m not interested in your sister. Or Eva.” It came out harsher than he’d intended, and he was suddenly aware that they were only inches away, her musky scent working its way into his veins. He was glad they were still in the hallway. He wouldn’t have wanted the temptation of being alone with her in his new quarters.

She bit her lower lip, and he was consumed with the desire to plunder her mouth, to suck on the fullness of her lips, to feel her body move under his, her bare breasts pressed against his chest.

“Anyway,” she said. Was it his imagination that she was breathless? “I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around. If you need anything, use the phone in your room to dial 0. Lily’s the best concierge in town. She’ll see that you have anything you need.”

She brushed against him as she left, setting his skin on fire.

Six

By the time seven o’clock rolled around, Scarlet couldn’t escape Guard headquarters fast enough.

It was bad enough that Rowen Black had rendered her speechless. It’s not like
that
happened very often. But her physical reaction to him was enough to send her over the edge.

Shallow breathing? Check.

Lightheadedness? Check.

Elevated body temperature? Double check.

He wasn’t even her type. So he was gorgeous. His reputation said he was also self-centered and hot-headed. Dangerous. Reckless. The very last thing she needed.

Okay, he was totally her type. But that didn’t mean it was a good thing.

He was a member of the Guard. An infamous member. That had to be some kind of double violation of her Don’t-Date-the-Guard policy.

She cursed under her breath and hurried along Main Street. Clifton had never quite recovered from its downfall as a now-useless railroad town, and tracks still crisscrossed the roads, a body of scars, despite the fact that trains hadn’t run through the town in ages.

She hooked a right at the abandoned train station, wary now that she was heading into the seedier part of town. A group of younger guys, standing in front of a corner store with bars on its windows, directed catcalls at her as she passed. They looked harmless enough, but she rested a hand on the sickle folded into her waistband anyway. Her pendant warmed against her chest, the power that was part of her bloodline priming in the crystal prism that allowed the Guard to control their weapons. It was against the rules to harm a mortal, but the boomerang-shaped sickle with two deadly edges—one with jagged teeth, the other sharp as a razor—was particularly intimidating. She wasn’t above pulling it out to head off an altercation.

She didn’t take her hand off the weapon until she was inside the dimly lit safe zone of the Anti-Chamber. Members of both the Alliance and the Legion drank there, and while they didn’t exactly socialize, they respected each other’s boundaries.

She looked past a cluster of bikers in black leather and another group she recognized as fighters for the Legion’s Blackguard. Massive and flinty-eyed, they were every bit as intimidating as the warriors of the Shadowguard. Of course, to the untrained eye, they were just men, out for a few drinks and a game of pool on a Thursday night. Like the descendants who made up the Shadowguard, the demons of the Blackguard were part of an ancient bloodline. And while legend made them out to be freakish, monstrous creatures, millennia separated them from their spiritual origins. Most of them weren’t very different from the mortals they sought to sway.

In appearance, anyway.

Scarlet spotted Eva sitting at the bar. Dark roots peeked out from under her short blonde hair, her pixie face tilted up to a familiar mortal clad in jeans and a white t-shirt. Scarlet had seen him before. Matt Something-Or-Other. She wished she could save him the trouble by breaking the bad news; Eva didn’t date mortals.

“Hey.” She sat down on the other side of Eva and gestured to the bartender, Billy, before looking at Matt, whose eyes were glued to Eva’s boobs. “Hi, Matt.”

Billy set a dripping beer in front of her.

“Hey, Scarlet,” Matt said.

Eva looked up at him. “Scarlet and I have some business to discuss; do you think you could give us a few minutes?”

“Sure.” Matt nodded, but his disappointment was obvious. “I’ll see you around.”

“When are you going to put that poor guy out of his misery and go out with him?” Scarlet asked when Matt was out of earshot.

“Never.” Eva took a swig of her beer and knocked on the bar for another. “And you know why.”

Scarlet laughed. “You don’t have to marry the guy. Just go out with him. Have fun. See what happens.”

“Says the girl whose last date was almost a year ago.”

Scarlet leveled her gaze at Eva. “That’s different. I’ve been busy training. I hardly ever go out anymore. Opportunity is staring
you
right in the face.”

Eva smirked, raising her eyebrows. “From what I hear, opportunity was staring you in the face today, too.”

Scarlet took a drink of her beer, avoiding Eva’s eyes. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Um, let me think … Tall, dark and handsome? Bad-boy rep? One of our very own?”

“You must mean rude, obnoxious, and arrogant. And the fact that he’s one of our very own makes him off limits for me. Maybe you should date him.”

Scarlet heard Rowen’s words in her head:
I’m not interested in your sister. Or Eva.

The sound of his voice in her head sent a wave of heat through her body. She shifted uncomfortably on the bar stool.

“Rude, obnoxious, and arrogant?” She shook her head. “There’s only room for one of those in my relationships. And I’m afraid the job is already taken.”

Scarlet laughed.

“Seriously, though,” Eva said. “Why not? It’s the twenty-first century. Take him to bed. Have your way with him. Cut him loose afterward if you want.”

“I can’t afford to risk it,” Scarlet said. “There’s too much at stake.”

Eva’s expression grew thoughtful as she picked at the label on her beer. “Maybe there’s more at stake by not taking the risk at all.” She raised her blue eyes to Scarlet’s. “You know?”

Seven

Despite the Cal-King bed, luxurious sheets, and climate-controlled bedroom that were now his, Rowen slept like shit.

It was that damn woman.

Scarlet.

Every time he closed his eyes he saw her. The way her inky eyelashes shadowed her porcelain skin when she blinked. The full lips begging possession by his. The tiny waist, full hips, firm ass. The way she looked at him, an ocean of mystery in her green eyes.

Fuck.

He stepped out of bed and walked to the shower. He turned the nozzle to cold, hoping it would dampen his arousal, and stepped in, forcing his thoughts away from Scarlet Montgomery. He needed to get his head back in the game. Start thinking about what was next. Namely, meeting the other members of the Guard and angling for some kind of assignment. He’d go crazy if he was forced to sit for long around the plush headquarters of the Shadowguard.