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Authors: Juliette Cross

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BOOK: Windburn (Nightwing# 2)
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Each of the men’s eyes had glazed over. See? I mentioned sex, and they lost brain function instantly. My point exactly.

“Here. I actually sketched a rough design for the logo.”

I opened my portfolio and placed my drawing in front of Lorian. Fallon angled his head for a better view. Willow, too.

“She’s human,” remarked Fallon in his smooth voice.

“Yes.” I turned the sketch for the others, all leaning forward to get a better view. “She is human. But if you look at the spire she’s holding onto, the spikes mirror the arch of a Morgon’s wings.” Lorian’s own wings twitched. In the sketch, a voluptuous woman gripped the top of the spire’s shaft, her upper body thrust out into the open air, her hair flowing in the wind. One leg wrapped around the base, her ankle anchoring her to the spire. She wore a wicked grin. The words
Spire Maiden
circled a moon above her, suggesting she dangled from the top of a Morgon-like building. “Also, the fact she’s on the top of the castle’s spire suggests she has a Morgon friend or lover. He would be the only one to place her there or get her down.” Again, silence, though several eyes watched me intently. “Of course, we could always add wings to her.”

“No.” Fallon gazed at the sketch. “I think you’re right. It’s balanced. Gallacius, could you create a sculpture of this for the entrance?”

“I’m sure I could manage.” His dark eyes shifted to me, brows raised, suggesting what? Respect? Admiration? Disgust? Hard to tell.

“I love it,” said Willow, smiling at me. “I agree. Keep her human. The rest of the logo, even the jagged font of the name, is suggestive of our kind.”

“I also thought we could add a Morgon in flight in front of the moon in the background. My drawing skills are limited, but I’m sure Gallacius could fine-tune the idea.”

He gave me a genuine smile, puffing up at my compliment, his brown wings opening slightly. “Yes. I could certainly do that.”

Throughout our discussion, Lorian hadn’t said a word. He tapped his forefinger on the glass-top table, an agitated movement. There seemed to be a consensus of agreement, whether he liked it or not. Finally, he stood and spoke, but not about the name.

“Ground-breaking for the site is tomorrow at ten in the morning. I expect you all there as news teams will be covering it. I expect everyone
on time
.” A malicious glare at me. “Dismissed.”

Willow and Belka gave each other a questioning look, obviously wondering how our first meeting lasted all of ten minutes. Like soldiers, we fell out toward the door. Fast.

“Ms. Linden. I’d like a word with you.” Hard, grating words.

I swiveled, catching Fallon’s sympathetic smile as he passed. Marching back, I stood in front of Lorian. He said not a word, hard gaze meeting mine, towering above me. Knowing he wanted privacy, Willow closed the door behind her.

I waited, back straight, chin set at a defiant angle. I only came to the top of his chest, but it didn’t faze me in the least. I imagined what it would be like to be covered by all of that hard muscle. His biceps and forearms flexed from tension. Rather than frighten, I longed to trail my fingers up them to see if he would relax under my touch.

“Ms. Linden, you came highly recommended, but don’t think because your best friend is married to my brother I will be lenient with you. I expect my employees to be on time, every time. Not one minute late. Not two seconds late. Am I clear?”

I bristled. “Crystal. Am I dismissed,
Mr.
Nightwing?”

Sharp eyes narrowed.

Oh, yes. He caught the slight dip, the edge of sarcasm and defiance leaking into my voice. Big boy didn’t like that. A wonderful shiver rippled down my body.

“And another thing.”

“Yes?”

“Be sure you take a shower before you show up for work.”

“What?”

“I can smell a man on you.” He leaned forward, fury lining his face in hard edges. “And I can smell everything you did with him last night.” Steely, steely words. Oh, he was so pissed.

I’d forgotten about ultrasensitive Morgon senses. Oops. I opened my mouth to make a snarky remark, but what could I say? He was right. And though it was none of his business, I still didn’t want Lorian knowing I’d had sex last night. Oh, hell. Nor did I want the rest of the damn team knowing. No wonder the men were looking at me as if they knew a secret. I’d just broadcasted to the lot of them my extracurricular activities. Heat flared in my chest as embarrassment swept through me, a sensation I rarely experienced. My attempt to transform going-out Sorcha into professional Sorcha this morning did no good, because they still knew I’d recently stumbled from another man’s bed. A flush of heat crawled up my neck.

“My private life isn’t any of your damn business, but I’ll be more sensitive to your animal senses in the future.”

“My animal—?” he stammered. His eyes narrowed, jaw clamping shut.

“Why don’t you just stop sniffing around me?” He didn’t retreat when I edged into his personal space.

“Trust me. If I could toss you out the door, I would.”

“No, you wouldn’t.”

I tilted my chin higher, a clear challenge to Lorian. I tucked a loose curl behind my ear. His intense gaze followed my hand, lingering on my cheek before landing on my lips. I moistened them. Lorian’s whole body jerked as if he’d been slapped. Wild eyes captured mine.

“Be at the building site at ten sharp. Don’t be late or you’ll regret it.”

I leaned over to grab my portfolio and bag, my breasts nearly brushing his arm, but he moved just in time.

I whispered my response. “I’m shaking all over, Mr. Nightwing. Something makes me want to be late so I can see what kind of punishment you’d have in mind.” I shocked him into silence, then gave him my best bedroom smile. “But I’ll be a good girl.” I swished toward the door, feeling his eyes following every sway of my hips. “For now.”

Chapter 2

Lorian glared at me from the second I walked onto the building site. The wind blew open my charcoal trench and plastered my sea-green dress to my breasts, stomach, and hips. I closed the coat and double-knotted the tie. Of course, quite a few others watched me cross the lot, too—men with covetous eyes, women with menacing ones. Except Willow.

I sidled up, squeezing in between her and Fallon. Lorian’s gaze, hard as stone, pinned me in place. I smiled and winked. He looked away, commenting to a human reporter at his side. The prim brunette hung on his every word, leaning unnecessarily close to him with her cleavage on full display. I smiled to myself, knowing she’d never make Lorian look twice. He was the kind of man who enjoyed the hunt.

Fallon placed a hand on my upper back. “Good thing you’re punctual this morning. Lorian can be somewhat rough when he’s ruffled.”

Oh, I bet he could.
“Thanks for your concern, but I can handle him.”

Cameramen gathered, human and Morgon, focusing on Lorian with a shovel in his hand. Blank and cool, he played to the cameras. Oddly, he came across natural for one so antisocial.

“Today, Nightwing Industries marks and celebrates a uniting of the races with this building—the first to be designed that will take into account the needs of both Morgon and human alike. May it not be the last.”

He stabbed the shovel into the soil with one arm. Flashes snapped. I couldn’t help but admire the way his biceps flexed tight against his thin black shirt. One advantage of the hybrid race was they didn’t feel the cold like humans did. I didn’t mind them having advanced circulatory systems. It simply provided more uncovered eye candy for me.

With one statement and firm action, journalists swarmed in.

“Excuse me. Ms. Sorcha Linden, right?”

I turned to a Morgon reporter, a slender but fit brown-winged man with bronze skin and sandy-blond hair. I nodded as he shook my hand with a large, warm one. “I’m Bard Woodblade with
The Gladium Post
. May I ask you a few questions?”

He was a print reporter. No camera crew.

“Sure. Go ahead.”

He turned his comm device on record, holding it between us.

“So how do you feel working with all Morgons on this project?”

“It’s no different than working with anyone else. Except, of course, I have to look up a lot.”

Bard flashed a charming smile. I gave him mine right back.

“And how does your firm, Linden and Burke Associates, feel about Morgons and humans merging more in the business world?”

Wow. This guy did his homework. He knew my name, what I looked like, and the marketing firm I worked for. “Our stance is that society can only succeed with cooperation between the races. Discrimination against race or gender isn’t tolerated by our firm.”

He lowered the comm device and clicked it off record. “And how do you feel about Morgons and humans interacting on a more personal level?”

“Why shouldn’t they?”

“You approve of your friend Jessen Cade heartbonding to Lucius Nightwing?”

Oooo. Sneaky reporter. I raised an eyebrow. “Her name is Jessen Nightwing. And I think Morgon men have a lot of appeal. Why should human women be denied the pleasure they have to offer? Does that answer your question?”

He swallowed hard. “Quite clearly.”

I sensed Lorian behind me. Only one man packed that kind of heat. Bard ignored the presence over my shoulder, pulled out his card, and handed it to me. “If your firm needs any more PR, give me a call.”

Knowing who stood at my back, I tilted my head in a flirty gesture. “I thought journalists were supposed to be unbiased.”

“True,” Bard winked, “but I’d make an exception for you.” With a seductive smile, he swept a small bow before me, then walked over to Willow, pulling out his comm device again.

I swiveled slowly and looked up. His expression was a facade of passivity, but the beast prowled beneath the surface. I could feel his dragon lurking.

“You do that often, don’t you?”

“Do what often, Mr. Nightwing?”

“Use your feminine assets”—his eyes dipped lower, coming up with a flash of heat—“to get what you want.”

“A girl’s gotta do what she can. Men do it. Why shouldn’t we?”

“How so?”

“Men use aggression and dominance to plow through life, taking what they want. If a woman has certain assets,” I shifted my body to its most pleasing angle, “why shouldn’t she use them to her advantage? To get what
she
wants.” I angled my neck, torso, and hips in a way that beckoned men closer.

He froze so still, I couldn’t see him breathe. His lovely, broad chest flexed into an immovable wall, and God help me, I wanted to touch. His beast struggled to hold it together. His face hardened.

“Understand this, company policy prohibits unprofessional behavior between employees.”

“By unprofessional behavior, you mean sex.”

“Yes.”

His eyes dropped to the card I fiddled with in my hands. “Hmmm, well, Bard isn’t an employee of Nightwing Industries so I don’t quite understand why you’re so angry.”

“Don’t you?” He’d edged closer, voice a rough abrasion, raising goosebumps on my skin.

“Are you upset I might have sex with Bard? Or are you upset you’ve just come to the realization that having sex with me would break company policy?”

His eyes narrowed and jaw clenched. My composure didn’t slip, but a smile did. I couldn’t help it. He was so furious and frustrated that he’d lost the ability to speak. And
I
had put him in this state. I wanted all that pent-up aggression unleashed in the most intimate of ways…on me.

I swear the man was about to explode when Fallon interrupted. “Excuse me. Willow, Ragnor, and I are going to meet at The Torch tonight to do some research where humans hang out with Morgons. We wanted to let you know in case you’d like to join us. It would be helpful to have you there, Sorcha, and get your opinion on things.”

I broke from Lorian’s fiery gaze, smiling brightly at Fallon. “Excellent idea. I’ll be there. If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen, I have a lunch date.”

Lorian scowled. I smiled brightly and sauntered off.

* * * *

“You said what!”

Ella’s jaw hung open. Jessen laughed with her hand over her mouth to keep her food from spilling out.

“I asked him if he was upset we couldn’t have sex because of his ridiculous company policy.”

I sipped iced lemon water and took another bite of my sandwich. I missed this deli. Since graduation last month, I’d vacated all my old haunts, acquiring a new apartment closer to the office. Ella now had a degree in Fine Arts, but still lived at home under her parents’ orders. Because all jobs in her field would have her mingling with Morgons in the Warwick District, she was forbidden from even applying. Her parents were so old-fashioned, they didn’t want her moving out until she married and her husband could “care for her properly.” Ella still hadn’t grown enough backbone to tell them to fuck off.

Ella set her tea down with a clunk and shook her head. “Sorcha, I don’t know how you say things like that. I’d crawl into a hole and die.”

“Hmph. Which is why my sex life is more exciting.”

“I don’t even have a sex life,” Ella mumbled into her salad.

“Need I say more?”

“Well,” asked Jess, “what did he say?”

“Nothing. He just stared at me.” I grinned. “Good thing for the both of us I don’t mind breaking rules.”

Jessen laughed.

“You’re a bad girl, Sorcha Linden,” said Ella as she forked a cherry tomato into her mouth.

“Yeah, well, isn’t that why you love me so much? Your life would be boring without me.”

“True.”

I took another bite of my sandwich and directed at Jess, “Tell us, how’s life with your big Morgon man?”

Joy brightened her face to another level of beautiful. I’d never seen her so happy. My heart swelled for her, and at the same time sunk, wondering what that sort of fulfillment would be like.

“Life is beautiful,” she said, tucking a lock of black hair behind one ear.

“Ugh. I hate you both.”

Jess and I both swiveled to our petite, blond-haired friend. Ella’s pretty, heart-shaped face flushed pink. “Your lives are so, so, so…exciting! And I think I’m going to die of boredom imprisoned in my parents’ house.”

BOOK: Windburn (Nightwing# 2)
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