The Braddock Boys: Brent. Kimberly Raye
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anticipated every move. There were no surprises.
Until now.
Until her.
Sure, he’d connected with her initially like he did with all humans. He’d seen her initial reaction—the surprise, the lust, the longing. But then her expression had closed like a window slamming shut and he hadn’t been able to pick up anything else.
No name.
No background.
No intentions.
One hundred and fifty years and he’d always been able to read a woman’s thoughts. But damned if this one hadn’t shut him out. A fact that made him almost as hard as the lusty beast that lived and breathed inside of him.
He was intrigued. Aroused. Hungry.
And while the last thing Brent needed to do was waste his time with confrontations, suddenly it was the only thing he wanted to do.
He eased off the gas, pulled onto the side of the road and climbed out of the car.
This was not good.
The warning screamed in Abigail’s head the minute she pulled up behind the Camaro.
Her headlights sliced through the darkness, illuminating the abandoned car. Her gaze shifted to the pastureland that stretched for miles on either side of the road. He was nowhere in sight. No shadowy figure fleeing in the moonlight or trucking down the road. Which meant that while the car appeared abandoned, it wasn’t.
Fear made her heart pump faster and she drew on it. Despite what most people thought, fear could be good. It motivated people, kept their senses heightened and sharp. Most of all, it fed the survival instinct. The key was not to let fear get the upper hand and interfere with brain function. It was all about breathing and thinking. Abigail had learned that during her first special ops mission in Iraq. She’d been cornered by a small group of insurgents who would have captured her had she given in to the gripping terror in the pit of her stomach. The visions of interrogation and torture and death. But instead of the outcome, she’d focused on the moment. On thinking of a way to get to the knife in her boot. Plotting a line of attack. Finding a means of escape.
The fear had turned to power then and she’d made it out alive.
She forced another deep breath and stared at the car in front of her, her gaze searching for some sign that he was still in it. He had to be.
Her gut tightened, her instincts screaming yet again that something wasn’t right. Why would he hide unless he had something to hide? She killed her engine, leaving the headlights blazing, and climbed from behind the wheel.
A few seconds later, she eased up beside the car, every nerve in her body on high alert as she slid along the sleek finish and stalled just shy of the door. Her gaze sliced to the right, through the window and the thick darkness to find …
Nothing.
He wasn’t sprawled on the front seat or hunkered in the miniscule space in the back.
The Camaro was empty.
Impossible.
She whirled, drinking in the surrounding countryside. She’d been all of twenty seconds behind him. No way could he have crossed the wide open pasture in that short amount of time. Not flat out running. Not even hauling it on a four-wheeler.
Her mind raced as her attention shifted back to the muscle car. Her gaze dropped to the foot of space between the bottom of the car and the ground. It wasn’t enough to accommodate a man of his size. At the same time, she’d seen seven men stuff themselves into a crawlspace the size of a single shower stall to escape capture. Desperation was the mother of the impossible.
“You might as well come out.” Abigail summoned her most commanding voice. “I know you’re under there.”
“Actually,” the deep, timbre of his voice slithered into her ear a heartbeat before she felt his presence, “I’m out here.” A hand touched her shoulder. “Right behind you.”
4
SHE WHIRLED AND STARED up at him with blue eyes so clear and vivid that he should have been able to see everything going on in her head. She was startled. That’s all he got before the window slammed shut and he was pushed out.
For the first time, he found himself stuck noticing her features. The sparkle of her eyes. The fullness of her cheeks. The smattering of freckles on the bridge of her nose.
Cute.
But Brent didn’t do cute. Even more, he didn’t do locals. So what if she had the bluest eyes he’d ever seen and a pink, pouty mouth that inspired the most wicked thoughts? He wasn’t interested. No sir.
Her lips parted and the faintest intake of breath echoed in his super sensitive ears.
The sound echoed in his head, rumbled down his spine and made a bee-line straight to his cock.
Okay, so he was interested. But he knew it wasn’t the lust that drew him. He couldn’t help but wonder what was going on behind her closed expression, and how she managed it in the first place. No woman had ever shut him out before.
Except his new sister-in-law, that is. But Brent had always figured that had something to do with the fact that she’d been sucking face with his brother. She and Cody had exchanged blood and so she shared his strength. Translation? She wasn’t susceptible to another vampire’s influence.
But this woman didn’t draw her strength from another bloodsucker. It was all her own and damned if that fact didn’t turn him on in a major way.
She hadn’t had sex in a really long time.
It wasn’t a truth he read in her gaze. Rather one that he gauged in her reaction. The stiffening of her body, the rapid in and out of her breaths, the frantic pulse beating at the base of her neck.
He stiffened. “Why are you following me?”
“Don’t flatter yourself. I was taking a drive and I saw your car on the side of the road. I thought you might have broken down.”
“I saw you back at the Dairy Freeze.”
“I like to drive after I eat. It helps the digestion.”
She killed the eye contact and cast a glance at his car. “So what’s up?” She rounded the front end and started to lift the hood. “Did you overheat?”
He rested a hand atop the metal and pushed it back down with a loud whackkkk! “You’re good.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You don’t even blink.”
“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’re feeding me a load of bullshit and most people blink when they do that. But you haven’t batted an eye.”
“Maybe that’s because I’m not lying.”
“Or maybe,” he rounded the car and stepped up to her, “you’re just really, really good at it.”
Abby had the sudden urge to step back. He was too close and he smelled too good and she was too freaked out by both. Particularly since she didn’t get freaked out. Ever. She kept her cool. Her focus. Her objective. Always.
Until now.
Until him.
“What are you really doing out here?” His deep voice slid into her ears and made her heart beat that much faster.
Her hands trembled and she stiffened, determined to get a grip and keep her mind on her mission. “I’m looking for a man.”
He regarded her for a few frantic heartbeats before a grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. “That much