Page 9 of Reaper & the Lioness
Chapter Four
I’d watched Eva since our introduction. She was magnetic, and each person she met warmed up to her within minutes. Periodically, she would pull a small notepad from the back pocket of her jeans, jotting down notes from a conversation or handing it to the other person for their number.
When the chaos erupted—thanks to a bar fight between Cash and a Ranger—she slipped away.
My instincts screamed “threat.” I’d fucking told Thane this was risky, and now I’d have to clean up the mess. I followed, expecting to catch Eva attempting to break into one of the offices.
Instead, I found her transfixed by our club’s history, studying each photo with genuine interest.
After sending Scott packing, I turned to Eva, who had already refocused on a yellowed newspaper clip from the eighties.
“What are you doing back here?” I asked, my tone sharp.
Her glance back to me appeared inquisitive, not guilty or suspicious. “There’s a lot more history to the club than I thought,” she mused as she looked closer at club indicia from the early years.
I stepped closer and glared at her expectantly. She hadn’t answered my question. Eva studied me for a moment before she realized I waited for an answer.
“I just needed a minute away from the crowd. The noise. The chaos. It was a bit much.” She pulled her long hair away from her neck.
For a moment, her mask slipped, and I could see the clubhouse environment overwhelmed her.
I stepped closer. Eva stood barely a foot away now. I could smell her sweet, citrusy perfume, a heady mix of orange blossom and vanilla filling my senses. Most women would be fidgeting, seeking an escape when facing a man like me. Instead, her ice blue–gray eyes met my gaze with a hint of challenge.
“You shouldn’t go into dark hallways alone. It can be dangerous for a girl like you.” My voice rumbled through the empty hall with a slight echo.
She turned to face me, pursing her lips in a way that made me want to bite down on them.
“I’m not scared of the dark. Or you, for that matter.”
“You should be.”
She raised a brow at me and stared directly into my eyes. “There are a few men in this room who I should be scared of”—she paused, poking her pointy little fingers into the center of my chest—“but you are not one of them.”
Un-fucking-believable. In one swift move, I had her wrists pinned above her head, her back against the wall.
A slight sound pushed out of her, and heat curled in my gut as I realized it wasn’t distress. The expression on her face confirmed she didn’t have a shred of hesitation or fear whenit came to me. She instinctively pressed her body toward mine instead of pulling away.
Fuck me.
I invaded her space even more, a growl rumbling in my chest. Rather than alarm, her eyes lit up in delight. She flashed her teeth at me in a wicked grin.
“Careful,” she taunted. “I don’t give a warning growl before I bite.”
“Is that so?” I leaned in.
Her breath hitched. “Or maybe that’s what you need,” she joked. “Someone to bite back when you try to get all dark and menacing.”
“Maybe you need someone to teach you some manners.”
She barked out a laugh. “Good luck with that. I’m not a dog that you can clip a leash on and handle.”
I pulled back, searching her face. Her eyes revealed unmistakable desire, accompanied by something else—a challenge, a dare, a darkness.
“Trust me, darling,” I said, a free hand trailing down her side while I held her wrists with my other. “I’m more than capable of handling you.”
She arched an eyebrow. A surge of heat coursed through me as her body subtly pressed closer.
“Big words from a man who keeps trying to intimidate me. A man who hasn’t made a move yet.”
