Page 10 of Shadow Hunter

His gaze trailed the length of her spine, searching for the telltale mark, but soon he caught himself admiring the curve of her ass, the way her round bottom rubbed against him. Fuck. What kind of spell was this? Had he ever wanted a woman thisbadly? He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been interested in sex.

Not since her at least.

No distractions,he reminded himself.

Careful to keep his hands to himself as much as possible, he lifted the hem of her black tank top. With the same free hand, he hooked two fingers beneath the edge of her leather pants, then slid them down an inch.

Fuck me.

The two cute dimples just above her ass were enough to leave him wanting for days, but…Her skin was smooth and unmarred.

No mark. A female vampire’s Mark of Caine always appeared on her lower back.

He blinked several times, finding himself at a loss for words. “Where’s your...?”

“My what? My vamp stamp? News flash, buddy, I don’t have one.”

Which meant….

Shit.He swallowed hard. This situation was going from bad to worse.

That she even knew what a “vamp stamp” was gave him pause. He released her shirt, allowing her to stand up straight, while still maintaining the knife at her neck. This couldn’t possibly be happening. His mind was playing tricks on him, that’s all.

“Who are you?” he growled.

She shook her head. “You first.”

He pressed the sharp blade against her skin, reminding her of its presence. He didn’t have the patience for this. “I’m the one with the knife.”

She went still, nothing but the rise and fall of her chest giving away her agitation. “Touche´.”

Whoever she was, he needed to hear it.

Make certain he wasn’t seeing things.

Confirm that he wasn’t blinded by the grief of what he’d done.

She turned to face him again before he even told her to do so, trying to show her lack of fear by taking the lead. Not surprising, with her overly trigger-happy attitude, but her confidence was her weakness. But he’d always known that though, hadn’t he?

Her gaze met his in a show of defiance, but he wouldn’t let himself be fooled into picking another fight with her. He was easily twice her size. Well trained or not, she would never be a match for him. And he wouldn’t hurt her.

Not again, at least.

He held her stare until finally she looked away. “I said, tell me your name,” he demanded.

She closed her eyes, before she glanced at the floor. “Sandra—”

He shovedher harder against the wall.

Goddamn it, Tiffany.

“Real name,” he growled.

Why was she making this so difficult?

She gaped at him as if he’d slapped her. “How do you know—?”

“Everyone has a poker tell,” he bluffed.

---