Temptation's Kiss

TEMPTATION’S KISS

Book Two in the Shadowguard Series

Michelle Zink

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The author makes no claims to, but instead acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction including brands or products such as: Land Rover and La Perla.

Copyright © 2012 by Michelle Zink.

Temptation’s Kiss by Michelle Zink

All rights reserved. Published in the United States of America by Swoon Romance.

Swoon Romance and its related logo are registered trademarks of Month9Books, LLC.

No part of this eBook may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Edited by Georgia McBride

Cover design by Su Kopil

Cover art copyright©: Swoon Romance 2012

eBook formatting by Studio 22 Productions

One

Kane Dawson reached into the backseat, past the weapons strapped to his waist, and felt around for the pastry box. He’d been saving it for the inevitable moment when the stake out would make him stir-crazy. It had taken over four hours, but he was about there.

When the smooth cardboard came into contact with his fingers, he pulled it onto his lap, keeping his eyes on the warehouse beyond the windshield of the Land Rover. It was their second day casing the armory, and so far, nothing out of the ordinary had occurred.

Which was a damn shame, because one of the Legion’s revenants had been killed, a violation of the Treaty that had existed for eons between the demons of the Legion and the angelic descendants of the Alliance. And everyone knew revenants were off-limits, something that made the piece of Shadowguard glaive found in the revenant’s body even more troublesome.

Ambrose Montgomery, head of the Shadowguard, an elite fighting branch of the Alliance made up of warriors like Kane, was engaged in a series of heated discussions with the Legion. He stood by his assertion that all of the Shadowguard’s glaives were intact, making it impossible that one of them had assassinated the revenant.

But the Legion wasn’t exactly buying it, and while they hadn’t yet made a move to break the Treaty—either by coming after the Alliance or more aggressively turning the mortals to the dark—their patience wouldn’t last forever. The evidence said the Alliance had broken the Treaty first by killing the revenant. It was only a matter of time before the Legion used the excuse to wreak havoc on the mortals and the Alliance.

Kane lifted the lid on the pastry box and brought it to his nose, inhaling the moist scent of the blueberry muffins nestled in the parchment.

“The way you’re looking at those muffins, I’d say you’re hungry for more than breakfast,” Rowen Black said, sliding into the passenger seat.

Kane wasn’t sure whether his discomfort was because of the glaive digging into his side or the fact that Rowen was onto him.

“And I’d say your imagination is running away with you,” Kane said, trying to keep a straight face.

Rowen’s look was knowing. “Listen, Brother, I totally get it. You
know
I get it.”

Kane surveyed the other man. Outwardly, he looked the same as he had when he’d arrived at Shadowguard headquarters two months earlier. His black hair was so short it could have been military regulation, his frame taking up every ounce of the passenger seat, his head almost touching the roof of the Rover.

But if you looked more closely, it was obvious something was different.

The tattoo on his bicep—the “V” of the sickle intersected with the spear of the glaive —was standard for members of the Shadowguard. When Rowen first arrived, it had been unadorned, a break with tradition that compelled all members of the Guard to personalize their ink.

Now the symbol was wound with thorny vines and deep red roses, a reputed match to Scarlet Montgomery’s own mark. It was supposedly on her hipbone, but Kane wouldn’t dare ask Rowen for verification. Not unless he wanted his face smashed in.

Brother-in-arms or not, Rowen would kill for Scarlet’s honor first and ask questions later.

Kane knew the feeling. He bit into one of the muffins, the smell of vanilla filling his nose. Rowen was right, it wasn’t breakfast that the scent conjured. It was the woman who had made them.

Lily Montgomery, Ambrose’s youngest daughter and Scarlet’s sister.

Kane’s shoulders sagged. Rowen had him nailed.

“Yeah, well, it doesn’t matter,” he said. “She doesn’t date our kind.”

Rowen laughed. “She
is
our kind, dumbass.”

“She’s a Descendant, yes, but she’s not a warrior. She’s too good for that,” Kane muttered.

Rowen favored him with a smack on the back. “Oh, man … You’re a goner.”

“Yeah, well, it doesn’t matter. I don’t stand a chance,” Kane muttered.

“What the hell are you talking about? You don’t think I see you guys having coffee? Walking to the farmer’s market to buy supplies for the house? Maybe it’s time to stop dicking around and tell her how you feel.” Rowen suddenly sat up straighter, eyes focused on a man heading into the armory. “Wait a minute … who is that?”

Two

Lily Montgomery stood outside of La Perla, her eyes riveted to the silk and lace on display. She’d been in the store with Scarlet only last week, but the delicate balconette bra was new. It was stunning, the lace so deep a purple it was almost black. Paired with a matching silk thong, a lavish lilac bow on the back, Lily couldn’t take her eyes off the set.

She caught sight of herself in the window, surprised as she always was by her reflection. Most days, she was so busy baking and cooking and taking care of the house and the warriors who called it home that she lost sight of who she was. Forgot that she was a flesh and blood woman of only twenty years old, her blonde hair, dainty features, and pale green eyes coming together in a way that wasn’t unattractive.

She knew the men at the house would be surprised by her lingerie fetish. They doubtless saw her as a little sister. Someone they could talk to, ask for advice about women, request that she bake their favorite cookies.

And what about Kane Dawson? Did he think of her that way, too?

The thought of him caused something warm and fluid to move through her veins. He was a big man, as all the men of the Shadowguard were, but he was always so careful around her. Like she was a porcelain doll he might break by looking at her too long and hard.

She couldn’t deny that he had become dear to her. His dark brown hair was a little long—she often had to stop herself from pushing back the stubborn lock that fell over his forehead—and his eyes were a deep blue that made her think of a clear autumn sky.

She wanted him. She’d already accepted it, even though she knew the men would be shocked that little Lily Montgomery wanted anything besides a fresh batch of muffins in the oven, a pot of soup simmering on the stove, the house warm and welcoming for everyone who lived there.

Would Kane be shocked by her feelings? Or did he feel the electricity that seemed to move between them when they walked to the farmer’s market? When they sat at the table, talking and laughing about everything under the sun?

And would he even want her when he knew everything? When he knew the secret she kept locked away from everyone but Scarlet?

A blanket of despair dropped over her shoulders. She forgot sometimes. She would think about Kane, begin to summon the courage to tell him how she felt, and then she would remember; even if he felt the same way she did now, everything would change when she told him the truth. He was a warrior of the Shadowguard. As male as they come. And there were things men like that wanted.

Like a family.

They might not have wings or any of the other accoutrements assigned to them by legend, but they were descended from angelic ancestors as old as time itself. Kane would want heirs to carry on his name.

And that was something Lily could never give him.

It was a random thing. Not something that had happened to her but something she was born with. She only found out through a routine check-up—her first gynecological exam—when she was eighteen. Thank God, Scarlet had been there. Lily had been devastated. Children weren’t something she’d wanted right away, but the possibility had been open to her.

And then it suddenly wasn’t.

She had sunk into a months-long depression even as she swore Scarlet to secrecy. But eventually, Lily had come to accept it. The Shadowguard was her family, and she put all of her energy into nurturing the men who lived in the house. It would do for her, but she could never ask a man like Kane to give up the possibility of having a family of his own.

She sighed, pushing away the thread of sadness that wound its way around her heart when she thought too long and hard about the future.

Then she squared her shoulders and pulled open the door to La Perla.

Three

“We’ve never seen the guy before,” Kane said, pushing the picture across the desk toward Ambrose. “He entered the building around oh-nine-hundred. We checked the image against our files on both the Alliance and the Legion and haven’t found a match.”

Ambrose surveyed the image. The guy in the picture was about 6’2”, his dark hair curling against the hoodie sticking out the back of his leather jacket.

“Scarlet.” Ambrose handed her the picture with shaking hands.

Kane had to fight not to look away. Ambrose was like a father to them all. It was painful to watch him deteriorate from the warrior he had been to the ailing man he had become. Rumor was that it was cancer, but no one would disrespect the man by asking.

He’d tell them when he was ready.

Scarlet, sitting in a chair opposite the desk, took the picture. She studied it before setting it back on the desk. “I’ve never seen him before, either.”

“He could be nobody,” Rowen said, standing protectively near Scarlet’s shoulder. It had become a familiar sight, and Kane had been surprised at how easily Rowen had slipped into the role of protector, only leaving Scarlet’s side when he was on assignment.

Then again, Scarlet’s willingness to let someone protect her was just as surprising.

Kane envied them. Envied Rowen’s ability to look after Scarlet, to make it known that she was his.

Ambrose tapped his fingers against his mouth. “That’s true. He could be a materials supplier. The armory requires large shipments of iron, titanium … many things.”

“Can we run the picture through one of our sources in the Clifton PD?” Kane asked. “If he has a record, they’d have him on file.”

“Something tells me Clifton’s technology isn’t exactly state of the art,” Rowen said. “They might not be able to I.D. the guy without fingerprints or DNA, but we can try.”

“What about the press?” Scarlet suggested. “There’s that reporter … Margaret O’Reilly? She’s been nosing around since Mikhail’s body was found. We could offer her a trade.”

Rowen raised his eyebrows. “She makes some inquiries about the guy outside the armory and we give her an exclusive on anything we plan to release? Off the record, of course.”

“Can she be trusted?” Ambrose asked.

“As much as anyone outside of the Alliance can be trusted,” Scarlet said.

“We don’t have a choice,” Ambrose said. “Figuring out who planted the Shadowguard glaive in the revenant’s body is our only hope of proving to the Legion that it wasn’t one of us. I’m trying to pacify them, but they won’t be held off forever.” He handed the photograph back to Kane. “Do it. And take Ivan with you.”

“Ivan?” Scarlet said, sitting up straighter.

Kane groaned inwardly. Scarlet and Ivan gave new meaning to the term “sibling rivalry,” and Ivan wasn’t exactly well liked by his peers. Entitled and a little spoiled, the words “team player” didn’t seem to be in his vocabulary.