Savage Hunger(69)

She hadn’t expected Warrick to shut down emotionally and slip right back into hard-ass-agent mode. But then, his intent in coming into the woods hadn’t been to make love to her anyway—obviously he’d been ready to confront her about the jump drive.

Until he’d seen her with Agent Hilliard. He’d been so out of line. Why did he care so much if she got involved with someone else? Jeez, she’d only given the agent a grateful kiss on the cheek, it wasn’t like she’d been giving him a blowjob. Warrick had been so completely out of line. Out of his mind!

Still, a part of her thrilled at the possessive, passionate response he’d had to seeing her with another man. Which was ridiculous. She didn’t want to feel like someone’s possession. She didn’t want to belong to anyone.

Or don’t you?

Sienna glanced up at Warrick through her lashes, trying to reconcile the hardened man staring down at her with the hot-blooded male who’d made love to her so passionately moments ago. He was so far buried beneath a cold, methodical exterior it was hard to believe they were one and the same.

“What happens now?” she asked, trying to force her mind back to where it needed to be. “Have you been able to contact my father?”

“Our attempts at reaching him have proven unsuccessful,” he replied flatly.

“Really?” No. Dammit, where was he? Fear swelled in her belly and she shook her head. “This doesn’t make any sense. He’d never leave his phone this long.”

“We’re bringing in other P.I.A. scientists to try and create an antidote—”

“It’s not going to help.”

“We have no choice but to try.” His harsh words rang out in the forest. “What would you have us do, Sienna? Let those shifters die? They’re already on the brink.”

The lump of emotion thickened in her throat and she bit her lip. They could try, but they would probably hit the same wall she had. But it was useless to try and tell him that again. They’d discover it on their own.

“And what happens with me? I can go, right?”

Warrick pulled back. Physically and, she could sense, emotionally. His gaze was briefly troubled before it became unreadable. She knew that look by now. It wasn’t good news.

“I can’t say for sure. But it’s time we head back to the house.” He turned away from her and started up the trail.

The jerk just expected her to follow. Didn’t even consider the possibility that she’d run off back into the woods and try to escape the grimness of her future. She was of no use to them anymore. They’d already found the jump drive and there wasn’t much more she could tell them or that they hadn’t already discovered.

She glanced back into the forest. She could run from Warrick, but what would be the point? He’d catch her. She knew that now. He was a shifter with heightened senses and abnormal abilities. She didn’t stand a chance in hell.

Swallowing her resentment, she started after him. She tried really, really hard not to think about what happened next. Maybe she could still prove she was useful. Or maybe her dad would finally see his messages and call them back.

“Keep up with me, Sienna.” Warrick’s sharp command cut through her thoughts.

“I’m coming already,” she muttered and quickened her stride. Because no matter how much she dragged her feet, it wouldn’t stop the inevitable.





Back in the bedroom. Naturally.

Sienna paced the hardwood floor, hands curled into fists so she wouldn’t tug off the bedspread or start throwing things. Right now grabbing the lamp and hurling it at the wall sounded pretty damn good.

The agents had been conjoined in the other room for about an hour now. Beyond discussing the contents of the jump drive, no doubt they were talking about her. Oh God.

She may as well have just finished running a marathon with the way her pulse was pounding. Her throat hurt from holding back tears of frustration. For the last couple of hours she’d tried to think of something—anything—that would make her useful to them again.

She’d toyed with the idea of lying and telling the agents that she knew who was behind the shifters’ captivity. But could she lie convincingly? Warrick would probably see right through her.

Her gaze slid to the bed and the simple striped burgundy bedspread that covered it. Memories slammed through her head—images of Warrick and her. Of the first time he’d brought her pleasure and how she’d slept in his arms. The peace she’d found there. The completeness.

She clung to the memories, mentally digging claws into them and clinging possessively. Frantic at the idea that they could be stripped from her mind against her will.