Page 23 of Unresolved

Who had I been trying to fool by running away a second time?There was no way Evander would let me escape again.He’d probably put a tracker on me the next time I slept as a backup plan.

Though tears welled, I refused to cry.I lifted my head as Evander rode toward me as though he had all the time in the world.I huffed out an aggrieved breath.Probably because hedidhave all the time in the world!

I wasn’t going anywhere.Not anymore.The tall fence hemmed me in as effectively as the handcuffs had kept me prisoner.

I crossed my arms and raised my chin another notch, trying not to notice how damn masculine he looked as he approached, the wind ruffling his dark hair, while his shadowed bristles verged on becoming a beard.

If he was tired I no longer noticed.He looked vibrant and alive on his motorcycle, his arms spread wide as he gripped the handlebars, his shoulders relaxed and loose and his dark eyes crinkled at the edge as he smirked.

The bastard was enjoying my defeat.

I glowered as he slowed the bike then pulled up beside me.“Going somewhere,” he asked roughly.

I wanted to scream at him and stamp my bare foot in the grass, but I’d only look sillier than I already did.Instead more tears threatened, my vision misting with red.“Does it look like it?”I asked mock-sweetly.

He arched a dark brow, then gestured with a jerk of his head toward the back of his bike.“Get on.”

I baulked even as I muttered, “Let me guess...I don’t have a choice.”

A corner of his mouth twitched.“You guessed right.”

“Asshole,” I gritted out.

Except, although I might hate man—Ididhate him—all the feel good parts of my memories came flooding back as I put my arms around his waist, his six-pack rippling beneath my hands.

How easy would it be for me to slip my hand lower and caress his dick through his pants?He was likely already hard.I’d learned from our past dalliance that it took very little to give him an erection.

It was my turn to smirk.I’d just had to look at him in a certain way, flutter my fingertips down his chest, then lower, and he’d been ready, willing and able.

Then the Harley thrummed with menacing power and we took off, the landscape flashing past in an adrenaline-fueled rush that made me realize how thrilling it was just to be with Evander again.

The wind whipped at my hair, pulling it back behind me like the tail of a kite, my fingers flexing against the musculature of his abs while his jacket fluttered either side.

My core clenched and flooded with wet heat, my traitorous body wanting the one man on the planet I didn’t want to want.But I also knew I wasn’t alone in my yearning.Even when I’d been with Evander in the past, women had thrown themselves at him, making no attempt whatsoever to mask their lust.

He veered to the right, following the recently depressed track in the grass.A minute later we went over a rickety wooden bridge with aclack-click-clatter,the stream below shadowed from the overpass.

I released an aggrieved sigh even as I glanced down at my soaked leggings.But of course there had been a bridge.And of course there was a motorcycle.No doubt he’d hidden the Harley Davidson out of sight behind the cabin.

A minute later he pulled up at the cabin—behindthe cabin just as I’d suspected—before I removed my stiff, cold body from the metal beast and the warmth of the rider I’d attached myself to.I stood sullenly, waiting for him to alight.

I scowled even harder when I acknowledged he didn’t even need leathers to look the part.Even in his suit jacket and pants, his white dress shirt, he oozed toughness and power, like he belonged on a motorcycle in just the same way he belonged in the mafia.

He stalked toward me and I turned and hurried toward the front of the cabin.Rembrandt sat out the front on the grass, looking pitiful as he licked his wet fur.I slowed and clucked my tongue.He’d always hated baths, add being cold into the mix and he was probably hating on me more than ever.

Evander pulled off his suit jacket as he approached the cat, then dropping into a crouch he pulled Rembrandt into the cozy warmth of his jacket, drying him off like he was something precious.

I inhaled slow and deep.This man was a killer, someone who took away life, at the very least, he tortured and seriously hurt people.

So why was he carefully drying off my cat?

Despite my hardened resolve against Evander, my heart softened more than a little.When he cared about someone, he cared deeply.Once upon a time, I’d been the recipient of that care.

Now vengeance was his one and only goal.That I was vulnerable to him and to his acts of goodwill were suddenly becoming all too clear to me.I reveled in his caring side even as I reveled in his dark, wild side.

Hate and lust really were becoming harder and harder to differentiate between.

He pushed back to his feet, Rembrandt in his arms and purring loudly.

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