Dark Fire by Christine Feehan. Dark Series – book 6

“Really?” Mischief danced for a moment in the woman’s green eyes, and she shoved the bigger cat away. “I didn’t realize. Sorry.” She didn’t sound sorry; she sounded as if she was making fun of him.

Somehow Darius knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that this woman’s life would be tied to his for all eternity. He had found what Desari’s new partner, Julian Savage, called his lifemate. He allowed burning desire for her to flare briefly in his eyes and was satisfied when she stepped back again. “They are not tame,” he repeated. “They could tear apart anyone entering this bus. How is it you are able to be with them safely?” he demanded, his voice deep and compelling, that of a man obviously accustomed to instant obedience.

Rusti’s teeth scraped across her lower lip, betraying her nervousness, but her chin went up defiantly. “Look, if you don’t want me here, it’s no big deal. We haven’t signed a contract or anything. I’ll get my tools and leave.” She took a step toward the door, but the man was a solid wall, blocking her way. She glanced behind her, judging the distance to the rear door, wondering if she could make it before he pounced. Somehow she was afraid that running would trigger his own predatory instincts.

“Darius,” Desari objected gently, laying a placating hand on his arm.

He didn’t so much as turn his head, his black eyes remaining on Rusti’s face. “Leave us,” he ordered his sister, his voice soft and menacing. Even the cats grew uneasy, pushing close to the red-haired woman whose green eyes flashed like jewels.

This man called Darius frightened Rusti in a way no one else ever had. There was stark possessiveness in his eyes, a sensual cruelty around his beautiful mouth, an intensity burning in him that she had never witnessed before. She watched her only ally desert her as Desari reluctantly obeyed her brother, leaving the luxurious touring bus.

“I asked you a question,” he said softly.

His voice sent butterfly wings brushing at her stomach. It was a black-velvet weapon, a sorcerer’s tool, and it sent heat curling unexpectedly through her body. She felt the color creeping up her neck and into her face. “Does everyone do everything you say?”

He waited, as still as a leopard poised to pounce, his unblinking eyes fixed on her face. She felt a strange compulsion to answer him, to reveal the truth. The urge beat at her head until she rubbed her temples in protest. Then she sighed, shook her head, and even attempted a smile. “Look, I’m not certain who you are, other than Desari’s brother, but I think we’ve both made a mistake. I saw the ad for a mechanic and thought this job would be something I’d like, traveling with your band around the country.” She shrugged carelessly. “It doesn’t matter. I can just as easily move on.”

Darius studied her face. She was lying to him. She needed the job. She was hungry but too proud to say anything. She covered her desperation well, but she needed work. Yet not once did her green eyes waver from his black stare, and her entire body bespoke defiance.

He moved then, gliding close to her so fast that she didn’t have a chance to run. He could hear her heart pound, hear the rush of blood, of life, through her veins. His gaze rested on the pulse beating so frantically in her neck. “I think this job will suit you perfectly. What is your real name?”

He was too close, too big, too intimidating and powerful. Up close she could feel the heat radiating from his body, the magnetism he exuded. He wasn’t touching her, but she felt the warmth of his skin against hers all the same. She had an urge to run as fast and as far as she could.

“Everyone calls me Rusti.” She sounded defiant even to her own ears.

He smiled in an infuriatingly male way that told her he knew she was afraid of him. The smile did nothing to warm the black ice of his eyes. He bent his head slowly toward her until she could feel his breath against her neck. Her skin tingled in anticipation. Every cell in her body went on alert, screaming a warning.