Nathan stood up on a low curse, bewildered that his discipline had failed him so badly when it came to Jordana.
The sight of her drew him toward the bed when he tried to command his feet to leave the room. The scent of her pulled a ragged moan out of him, the intoxicating combination of warm skin and soft, sensual woman proving almost too much for him to bear.
Jordana’s bloodscent lingered faintly on the air as well. Nathan’s Breed senses seized upon the elusive fragrance, which called to both the man in him and the beast.
Every Breedmate’s veins carried a unique scent, but Jordana’s natural perfume was beyond unique. It was unearthly, addictive. He found it impossible to describe the mix of exotic spice and crisp, delicate citrus that tickled the back of his throat and made his gums tingle with the presence of his emerging fangs.
All he knew was that he wanted her.
Again.
Still.
Nathan leaned over her in the dark, watching as the banked but burning embers of his transforming eyes illuminated her face. She must have sensed him in her sleep, just enough to coax a quiet little sigh from between her parted lips.
Nathan wanted to taste those lips again. He couldn’t resist sweeping aside an errant tangle of her platinum hair that snaked across the smooth column of her throat. He wanted to press his mouth to the fluttering pulse point below her ear.
He wanted to do more … much more.
He likely would have, if a faint noise outside the bedroom hadn’t jolted him to full attention.
Someone was entering the apartment.
In an instant, desire was doused with concern for Jordana’s safety. Nathan moved with lightning speed, battle instincts switched on and lethal as he flashed out of the bedroom.
He rushed the opening elevator doors, total stealth and menace, prepared to kill.
Carys Chase stood in the center of the lift. She gaped, her eyes going wide.
“Shit,” Nathan hissed. “What the f**k are you doing here at this hour?”
Her brows hiked upward. “I live here. Rune just dropped me off. What the f**k are you doing here at this hour, Nathan?”
Damned good question. He backed off on a snarl and raked a hand over his scalp. “I came to check in on Jordana earlier tonight. I had questions about what she and Cassian Gray discussed before he was killed.”
Questions he’d all but neglected to ask, because he was too busy getting na**d with her.
Carys’s narrowed look said she suspected as much.
She stepped off the elevator to jab a finger in his chest, her voice a sharp whisper. “You ass**le. I can’t believe you would come back here like this. I can’t believe she even let you in, after what you did to her the other night.”
“After what I—” Fuck. Of course. Carys had almost certainly been with Jordana at La Notte when he’d come out of the private room with the human female.
Jordana had probably confided the evening’s entire chain of events to her best friend, starting with his near seduction of her in the elevator. A seduction that would have been a certainty if running into Bentley-Squire hadn’t put a damper on Nathan’s plans.
And Jordana hadn’t exactly let Nathan in tonight, but somehow he didn’t think Carys needed to hear that. The Breed female was furious enough with him already. She glared, her blue eyes crackling with sparks of amber outrage.
“We’ve worked things out,” he said, all the explanation he intended to give. What happened between Jordana and him tonight was their business. Not that Carys didn’t have a pretty good idea anyway. “It’s not what you think. I don’t want to see her get hurt. Not by anyone.” He paused, trying to find the words to summarize all the things he felt where Jordana was concerned. “She’s become … important to me. I care about her.”
Carys stared at him for a long moment. “My God. I believe you actually mean that.”
He stepped around the daywalker without further comment. “It’ll be morning soon. I have to go. Look out for her today,” he added. “I’m not convinced she’s safe so long as whoever killed Cass is out there.”
“You think his death could be linked to Reginald Crowe and Opus Nostrum?”
“Could be,” Nathan replied, unable to keep the gravity from his tone.
In his gut, he dreaded that the truth might prove to be something even worse. Until further word came in from the Order in D.C. about Crowe’s apparent mistress and any useful intel she might provide, Nathan wasn’t ruling out anything.
“I will protect Jordana with my life, Carys. No one will do her harm so long as I’m able to keep her safe. But during the daylight hours—”
“Of course.” Her gaze softened with understanding now. “She’s important to me too, Nathan. I’ll make sure she’s all right.”
He inclined his head in acknowledgment. “Tell her I’ll be back tonight at sundown to look in on her again. We’ll talk more about Cassian Gray then.”
Carys shook her head. “She won’t be home. The exhibit opens this evening,” she reminded him. “We’ll both be at the museum reception tonight, along with a couple hundred invited guests and visitors.”
Shit. He didn’t want Jordana out of his sight tonight, let alone out of reach entirely and surrounded by a museum packed to the gills with the general public.
“You could always come as her date,” Carys suggested, a teasing glimmer in her eyes. “Might do you some good to take a night off for once. You might even have fun.”
Fun? He scoffed at the idea. Even if he did decide to attend the event, fun would be the last thing on his mind. He’d be there for the sole purpose of ensuring Jordana’s safety, making certain every person in the vicinity understood that if they intended harm toward her, they would have to come through him first.