Savage Hunger(88)

He stroked a hand through Sienna’s silky hair and down her damp spine. Another tremble rocked her body and she moaned softly.

The hotel phone rang, jarring his senses and dragging him up from the thick, sensual fog that encompassed them. He frowned and reached over to grab it, muttering an absent greeting. He hung up a moment later and shook his head.

“Who was it?” she asked, still sounding as dazed as he felt.

“Room service. They knocked on our door a few minutes ago. Odd, I didn’t even hear it,” he said absently. They’d been so caught up in the moment, neither of them had heard the knock on the door? Thank God it had just been room service. “They’re bringing it back in a few minutes.”

“Mmm. I didn’t hear it either.” Sienna lifted herself off his chest and stared down at him. Her crystal blue gaze was almost glassy with pleasure and exhaustion. “Though I’m not really hungr—holy crap!”

Warrick stilled. “What is it?”

“Your chest.” She pressed trembling fingers against her mouth as her eyes widened in shock. “You’re bleeding, Warrick. I—oh my God, I think I really cut you. With my nails.”

He glanced down, his brows drawing together. Sure enough, there were thin, bloody slashes that were already healing on his chest. The hairs on the back of his neck lifted and he shook his head to push away a sudden sense of disquiet.

“It was pretty intense this time.” He tried to ease her shock by tugging on a strand of hair and offering a slow smile. “Don’t worry about it, baby. It’s almost healed. And besides, I promise I liked it.”

Her cheeks stained with color and she bit her lip. “You’re too forgiving. I tore you up like I was some cat at a scratching post.”

A laugh spilled from his chest and he brushed his thumb over her still-swollen lips. “Just promise you’ll do it again.”

“You’re a sadist.” She rolled her eyes and glanced down at his chest again. “But, wow, you were right. Look at that. Healed already.”

He didn’t need to glance down again to believe her. And the knock on the door had him sliding out of bed anyway.

“Room service,” he murmured and glanced back at her with a wink. “And after that little lovemaking session, I think you’ve definitely built up an appetite.”

He settled a plate of food on her lap a few minutes later, then grabbed his cell phone and disappeared into the bathroom to make a few phone calls.

He had to at least try again to do everything in his power to keep Sienna from being at that exchange.





Chapter Nineteen

Warrick wasn’t pleased. But then, she’d discovered that last night after he’d come back from the bathroom with his cell phone clutched in his hand.

Sienna still wasn’t quite sure what the phone calls had been about, or even to whom, but she had a pretty good guess. He’d been doing everything in his power to try and make sure she wasn’t involved with the meeting that was about to happen. That she wouldn’t be the one to exchange the jump drive.

But if that was the case, he hadn’t gotten his way.

She drew in a slow, steadying breath and glanced around the dim interior of the building. It had the appearance of some kind of old bait or fishing shop. With nets and poles hanging on the walls, covered in dust and spiderwebs. This place was creepy. Almost creepier than the abandoned lab the shifters had been locked up in.

Even though it was midnineties and humid as hell, the abandoned building on the pier somehow managed to be almost chilly. A shiver skated down her spine and she swallowed hard, wrapping her arms around her waist. She’d never let the carefully hidden agents see it, but her nerves were strung tight like the damned violin she used to play in fifth grade.

Despite their promise to her father’s abductors, the agents were once again all together. Here in this abandoned building. Hilliard, Larson, Rafferty, Warrick and Quinton.

Hilliard had tried to tease her on the way over, keep things light, but her stomach was too tied in knots to think about anything beyond what was about to happen.

Though, if she believed the agents’ promise, nothing would happen. They’d sworn to her she wouldn’t be hurt. Warrick had made the same vow this morning, and there’d been a gentle determination in his gaze.

Her mind drifted back to the conversation they’d had just nights ago, when she’d accused him of being afraid of nothing and he hadn’t really denied it. But there was fear in his gaze now. Subtle and almost hidden, but she’d seen it. Warrick was afraid. For her.

Which meant she had no choice but to get out of this freaking mess alive, one way or another. Despite her hesitation to trust the P.I.A., she was beginning to. Or, no, she did.