Eternally. Maureen Child

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Eternally - Maureen Child


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grab her upper arm. “Now.”

      His hand touched her bare arm and heat sizzled into life between them.

      One of them definitely had a fever. She just wasn’t sure which one.

      He let her go almost instantly, and his eyes narrowed as he watched her. Like he was blaming her for that short burst of fire.

      Stepping back from him, Julie said, “It’s one thing for you to throw Don Juan and the bimbo out, but this is my house.” At least one third of it. And right about now, she’d be really happy to see either Alicia or Kate come marching through that door. The kitchen seemed to be getting smaller. And hotter. “I’m not going anywhere. But I think you should.”

      Kieran MacIntyre felt the fire still burning his fingertips and a part of him stood back and wondered at it. Through the countless centuries he’d been wandering this earth, he’d never experienced that jolt. He’d known others of his kind who had and in the beginning, he’d even been jealous of it.

      But as time passed and the years piled up behind him like dirty beads on a piece of string, he’d learned that he was the lucky one. He had no distractions to keep him from the hunt. He had no other to worry about. He didn’t have to concern himself with agonizing over the loss of a Mate when he’d never found one.

      Until now.

      He’d first become aware of her three months ago when she’d called his home trying to set up an interview with him. Naturally her request was rejected, but he’d looked her up online and had been immediately intrigued. Her photo had haunted him since and he’d made it his business to keep a distant eye on her. Until tonight of course, when he’d been forced to confront her.

      Stray curls of dark red hair escaped from the ridiculous ponytail she wore at the top of her head. Her green eyes were huge in a pale face sprinkled with just a few golden freckles. Instinct pushed at him to grab her. Hold her. Tip her head back, taste her neck, feel her pulse pound beneath his mouth. Fill his hands with her breasts and bury himself in her heat.

      His body roared with life and a hunger he’d never known before. And he didn’t want it. Didn’t need it. He’d survived for this long without a Mate and he’d done a hell of a job of it, too. He’d never liked complications. Not in life and certainly not since his death. Easier by far to keep his distance from the mortal world, do his job and then fade from the memory of everyone whose life he’d touched.

      Better to be alone.

      Count on no one but himself and the other Guardians.

      But she smelled sweet. Fresh.

      Alive.

      The floral shampoo she used clung to her seductively and he wondered if her skin would taste as good as she smelled. Her high, full breasts rose and fell quickly with her agitated breathing and her eyes seemed to get bigger, wider, as she watched him.

      Did she sense the connection between them?

      Could she have any idea at all about what was to come?

      “Who are you?” she asked quietly, her whisper almost swallowed by the noise drifting to them from the adjacent room.

      Who was he? An interesting question. Guardian? Warrior? Knight? Too many answers and not enough time.

      He took a step closer, and she moved too, backing up until she bumped into the kitchen counter behind her. She jolted in surprise and dropped the carton of ice cream to the floor.

      She couldn’t know. Couldn’t even imagine the world he moved through.

      His gaze locked with hers, Kieran moved in even closer, dipping his head, letting her fill him with scents that drugged him, that poured through him like rich wine.

      His heartbeat thundered in his chest.

      He had no time for this. And yet, he knew he couldn’t leave her without one taste. Since he first saw her photo, he’d known this moment would come—now, he wouldn’t waste it. Cupping her cheeks between his palms, he took her mouth, intending only a brief, hard kiss that would assuage the sudden, all-encompassing need raging within. But one brush of her lips to his and he was lost.

      She sighed into his mouth and her lips opened for him. His tongue swept into her depths and he felt himself drowning in the heat of her. Senses overloading, his body felt engulfed in flames. She sighed again and the soft sound spiraled through him like knives, tearing through a centuries old apathy as if it were fragile silk.

      Her breasts pressed to his chest, he felt the thundering beat of her heart as if it were his own. It shuddered through him, pounding in his head, his blood.

      She dropped the spoon and it clattered on the tile floor like a warning bell.

      Kieran groaned, let her go and reluctantly stepped away, willing his body into quiet. The instinct to take her was strong, nearly overpowering. She trembled, eyes wide, and he wanted to lay her down on the floor and lose himself in the heat of her.

      “Wow,” she said softly, “you’re really good at that.”

      He rubbed one hand across his mouth and refused to admit he was shaking. He had no time for this. No time to be distracted by something he wasn’t going to claim anyway.

      He wasn’t here for her.

      Exactly.

      Kieran had followed the scent of his prey to this house. All day, he’d hunted it, always a step or two behind. Tracking the elusive trace energy signature all demons left in their wake. Now, it seemed that Fate had taken a turn in the hunt. Why else would the beast he sought have come here?

      To her house?

      The power of the beast throbbed in the air, its hunger, its desire pulsing wildly and it amazed Kieran anew that the mortals couldn’t sense it. Somewhere in this house, the demon moved freely, already on the hunt, deciding who it would kill and when.

      And he was the only man who could stop it.

      Chapter 2

      “You still haven’t answered me,” she said, voice tight, eyes wide. “Who are you?”

      “Kieran MacIntyre.” His name, nothing else. She didn’t need to know more. Hell, she didn’t need to know his name. He wouldn’t be seeing her again if he could help it.

      Her eyes went wide and flashed with excitement. “You’re MacIntyre?”

      “Yes.”

      “The man of mystery?” she continued and he could almost see her mind whirling behind her eyes. “The reclusive philanthropist, Kieran MacIntyre? Seriously?”

      “And you’re Julie Carpenter. A reporter.”

      Those amazing emerald eyes narrowed briefly. “How do you know that?”

      “When you try to arrange interviews,” he countered, “do you actually believe you’re not being checked out in return?”

      “Oh.” She nodded then said, “Okay then, that makes sense. And here you are. Isn’t this a happy coincidence? You, here, I mean. With me.” She practically scrubbed her palms together in eagerness.

      “I’m not here for an interview.”

      “Doesn’t mean we can’t do one.”

      “Yes,” he said shortly. “It does.”

      There was no time to waste. Not with her. A distraction was something he couldn’t afford at the moment. Even one so tempting as she. Hunger raged and warred with the instinctive knowledge that he was wasting time. The hunt was all that mattered. A century and a half ago, he’d found the demon. And he’d done it without having a Mate by his side. Now, he would do it again.

      He could hardly look at her, though, without wanting her. Her mouth was red and swollen from the kiss that he was trying to forget. He’d be damned forever if he let his desires


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