Page 66 of Shadow's Edge (Night Prowler 1)
Thank God it was dark in here. She didn’t have to look at herself in the mirror; she didn’t have to meet any more jeering, hostile eyes. She could hide. She wished she could hide here forever.
She buried her face into the arm of a heavy wool overcoat. She burrowed into it, slipped it off the wooden hanger, wrapped it around her naked body. She folded up the collar and turned her nose to the silk lining. It smelled like him. She groaned again and fell back into the dark, plush haven of the row of hanging coats, their heavy folds providing layer upon layer of sanctuary and warmth.
Even in the pitch dark confines of Leander’s cavernous dressing room, Jenna knew her face burned bright red.
She knew she’d be safe here for a while at least, much safer than in her own rooms. Though the guards outside her door would protest, if questioned, that she was still inside, that she hadn’t gotten past them. It wasn’t really their fault. Morgan had pushed them into her will with the power of Suggestion, telling them all to let her pass and forget they had seen either of them.
Which, of course, they so obligingly did.
And escaping to the forest, well, she might as well just send out a flare to announce her whereabouts. With the number of Ikati in the drawing room, in the ballroom, swarming through the entire mansion, following her into the woods would be easy.
But here, in Leander’s chambers, no one would follow, even though they must sense she had fled here. There was no way the rest of the Assembly would dare breach the confines of the Alpha’s inner sanctum.
At least that’s what she hoped.
She just needed time to think. She needed time to decide how exactly she was going to keep her promise to Morgan, how she was going to convince Leander to do something that would basically amount to treason on his part. She hadn’t come up with any brilliant ideas yet.
Tonight was supposed to be her debut, as Morgan kept calling it. The cut on her foot was fully healed, she could Shift again. And she had been on board with the idea, had thought it might actually work. Just tell the Assembly, just show them a little something, like maybe one foot turning to vapor, her arm or a lock of her hair—just enough proof to get them off her back and allow her to drop off the radar and escape back to her old life. And escape was exactly what she was planning.
But the minute she’d seen their ominous, arrogant faces as they gathered to lurk behind Leander in the ballroom, she knew she wasn’t going to show them anything.
Because they planned to force her to.
And then Leander, with that kiss...well, he took the choice right out of her hands.
She was a fool. She knew it, as sure as she knew the sun would rise tomorrow. She was a fool to keep thinking of him, hour after hour, day after day, thinking and dreaming and wanting even as she tried her best to stuff it all down into the pit of her stomach.
She knew he was exactly like the rest of them. All he wanted was her cooperation, her submission, her obedience. There was no way in hell she was going to be obedient to a single one of them.
Especially him.
“I thought I’d find you in here with a pair of scissors, shredding up my entire wardrobe,” an amused voice said, low and silky soft, from a few feet away. “Not trying it on.”
Jenna’s head snapped up. He was right there, his outline barely visible in the middle of the darkened room. She smothered an angry gasp.
How had she not heard him? How had she not heard his heart?
“I was hoping you wouldn’t find me at all,” she retorted hotly, moving one step back into the row of coats, her hands clenched around the wool collar, drawing it closer. Another step and her back hit the closet wall.
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re one floor up from the drawing room. I can easily hear your heartbeat from there.”
Through the murk she saw the sheen of Leander’s teeth as he smiled. Then his scent hit her, spice and smoke and virile man. His heartbeat pumped to life in her ears, an echo of her own. She realized with a start she hadn’t heard it before because he had entered the room as vapor and Shifted back to man.
Which now meant he was standing there nude. As nude as she was under this coat.
“And just for the record, I’m not trying it on,” Jenna snapped. “I’m...” She floundered, hating herself for letting him get under her skin. “I’m just trying to stay warm!”
He stepped forward, put a hand out to push away a dove-gray cashmere overcoat that was partially blocking her face. The skin of his sculpted chest was swathed in shadows, but she saw its polished gleam as he moved. A ripple of dusky light fell over the muscles in his abdomen; ambers and charcoals and deepest grays outlined the planes and angles of his flesh. She pulled her gaze away before it drifted farther down.
“I can think of better ways to keep you warm,” he murmured.
“I’m sure you can,” she said acidly, unnerved. Did he have to be so masculine? So muscular? So damn good looking?
Jenna blew out a little breath between her teeth, not realizing they’d been clenched together. “Like throwing me into a pot of boiling water. Or staking me to the ground in the desert. Or pouring honey all over my body and dumping a beehive over my head. Or—”
He tsked. “You have my intentions entirely wrong, love. Except possibly the honey part.”
She caught the phosphorous glow in his eye as he smiled, slow and languid. “Minus the bees.”
