Kissed by a Dark Prince(11)

Olivia settled for tracking him as he paced, sure that he would have another question for her soon, because he was thinking hard. He was pale too, maybe even more so than he had been when she’d had him on her inspection table. Was he still sick?

His purple gaze flitted to her, and then away, and then back again. Whenever it landed on her, he looked lost for a moment, bewildered, as if he had forgotten what he was supposed to be doing but had a suspicion he had been doing something before setting eyes on her.

Olivia’s body betrayed her every time his gaze landed on her, flushing with fiery heat and that shivery achy feeling that had come over her when they had first met. She cursed herself. She was not going to go through this again. At least the first time she hadn’t realised that she was dealing with a demon until he had tried to take down the central headquarters of Archangel. She knew this time and she had her barriers up and locked in place. There was no way he was going to break them down.

She was not going to lust after another demon.

He wheeled around to his right and her eyes shot to the arched door near the other end of the room, close to a low long cabinet.

It was one of the men from the other night. The one who had spoken. She recognised his face. He still wore his suit of armour, but his helmet was gone, revealing black-blue overlong wild hair. Did all of their species have the same hair and eye colour? He stared at her, purple eyes dark and cold, but laced with a touch of surprise.

“I sensed your agitation.” He switched his focus to the man who had bitten and kidnapped her. “Is everything well, my prince?”

Prince. Oh my. She had been right on the money. Her kidnapper was a prince. A prince of what though?

The other male’s eerie gaze slid back to her and narrowed, and Olivia had the dreadful feeling that he would be all too willing to kill her if she was upsetting the man he had referred to as his prince.

The prince in question shook his head and waved regally, dismissing the male. “That action will not be necessary, Bleu. The female is not a threat to me.”

Olivia bristled at that. She could have killed him when she’d had him unconscious on her inspection table. Not a threat her ass.

Both men slid deadly looks her way and Olivia realised she had said it all aloud. She shrank back, trying to make herself look as small and nonthreatening as possible.

The prince dismissed the male again. This time, he obeyed and left. Olivia waited until he had closed the wooden door before she moved her attention back to the prince and relaxed a fraction. The man in the room with her had bitten and kidnapped her, but had said he wouldn’t hurt her. If she had to choose between him and the one he had called Bleu, who had looked at her as if she were a pest to be eradicated, she would choose her blood-drinking captor over the homicidal maniac.

“Continue,” he said and she half expected him to use that regal wave on her. If he tried it, she might be inclined to relocate his testicles after all. She might be human, but she wasn’t going to let anyone order her around, not even a powerful immortal prince. She had enough of that from her superiors. “What condition did you find me in?”

“You’d taken one hell of a beating... don’t you remember fighting?” she said and he shook his head and sat on the edge of his bed. Rumpled purple covers. Barely dressed male. She could do the math. He had woken and come to take her shortly afterwards, because he couldn’t recall the fight and how he had ended up at Archangel. He looked like the sort of man who liked to be in control and hated weakness, and not remembering the events that had seen him dumped unconscious at a demon-hunting organisation were probably driving him mad. “It must have been epic.”

The light in his eyes faded and he looked off to his right, staring at the foot of the row of wardrobes.

“My battles with this particular enemy always are.” Something drifted in his rich purple eyes, a shadow of remorse that left her feeling he would rather not fight this enemy.

He cursed again, pushed to his feet and paced, taking long agitated strides up and down the room.

Olivia leaned back against the wall and studied him in silence, giving him time to think and beginning to relax.

He was beautiful, his tall lean figure shifting sensually with each stride, working his muscles like a symphony. Every so often, the markings she had followed with her fingers would flash into existence and he would growl, seemingly irritated by them, and glare at her, as if she were to blame.

Olivia lost track of time, her fear melting away and her guard dropping with it. What was he thinking? He looked melancholy at times, pained, but angry at others. Feelings flitted across his handsome face, rapidly changing his expression, drawing her to him all the more.