Page 9 of Shadow Hunter

What the fuck was wrong with him? He’d never been one to be distracted by a pretty face, though he was certainthiswomanwas more gorgeous than anything he’d ever laid eyes on. Tiffany was no young girl anymore, that was for certain.

Her thick, dark brown hair fell just past her shoulders, and from that alone he recognized her as the woman from the bar earlier. His eyes trailed over those gorgeous locks, which stopped just above a pair of small perky breasts that were pushed against him. Fuck, she felt amazing pressed beneath him like this.

Lithe and strong, yet soft in all the right places.

But it was her eyes that really did him in. Large and honey colored. Rimmed with dark layers of full lashes so familiar that staring into them felt like coming home. Though they’d never even been in the same room before, that didn’t matter.

His heart knew her.

Even if she didn’t recognize him.

Yet.That single word pulsed through him.

He swallowed hard. “You going to make this easy or difficult?” he asked, though he was afraid he already knew the answer.

Is that an invite?

Her earlier question lingered between them.

She gazed up at him. A slight hint of fear showed behind her irises, mixed with that stubborn drive to fight, and he immediately hated himself for being the one to put that fear there. She didn’t need to respond for him to decide the answer himself.

Difficult. Always fucking difficult.

His gaze raked over her. God, she was gorgeous. Breathtaking, really. Everything he’d ever wanted and more, but…

He cursed silently. What were the chances?

He shook his head. No, it couldn’t be. No way was he this lucky. Fate didn’t give second chances. Not to men like him.

A sudden thought came to him unbidden, like someone had doused him in something cold.

Maybe shewasa vamp.

Vampiresses were impressive beauties. Maybe this was some kind of screwed up vampire trickery, some seductive glamour projecting the deepest longing of his heart. It wouldn’t be beyond a powerful vampire to fuck with a hunter’s head.

But if it really was her…

No.

He snapped his attention into focus, coming back to himself. The sight of her Mark of Caine would shock him back to normal. To the version of himself that had little interest in women when there was a job at stake—and there always was, especially now.

At least ever since she’d refused to return his letters.

“Turn,” he said, making a rotating gesture with his free hand.

When she didn’t move, he increased the pressure on her neck further. “I said, turn around.”

“The back door’s off limits, buddy. Don’t get any wise ideas.” With a glare in her eyes, she cast him an expression that was pure snark before she turned away from him.

He bit his lower lip, trying hard not to encourage her.

Definitely not his Tiffany. Right?

He needed to get this over with quick.

Locking his arms around her, he pressed her back against his body, ensuring she couldn’t escape. He held the knife to the front of her throat and forced her against the wall.

If the mark was there, he wouldn’t hesitate to use the necessary force to get answers from her. Then, female or not, he would do what he had to do.

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