“Don’t attempt to manage me, Claire.” Her cheeks further bloomed with a crimson stain and the scent of her blood sent him reeling. His true name on her lips was heaven, the sound a slow caress. Too much for him to bear. “And don’t call me Mikhail. That male no longer exists.”#p#分页标题#e#
She canted her head to one side. Studied him as though trying to deconstruct him as she took a tentative step away from the door. “Ronan calls you Mikhail.”
“Ronan is presumptuous.” He took a step toward her. And another. Claire didn’t back away. Rather, she squared her shoulders and knocked her chin defiantly into the air. Such bravery in this female. Such strength.
“I heard you shout. Are you all right?”
Was that concern or suspicion in her tone? “Where were you going?”
She looked him dead in the eye without an ounce of guile. She tucked her left hand behind her back as though hiding something. Crafty female. “I told you. Out for fresh air.”
Where was Alex? And where in the hell was Ronan? He’d promised to return at sunrise. “Ronan!” Michael’s voice boomed through the house, but his feisty female didn’t so much as cringe at the sound. She stood stalwart against the coming storm, shoulders squared as though prepared to go to battle.
“He’s busy.” Claire folded her arms in front of her chest, pushing her breasts up to swell above the deep V of her shirt. Michael suppressed the urge to snatch her up and sink his fangs into that tantalizing mound of flesh. “And Alex isn’t here, so don’t bother shouting for him, either.”
Ronan stepped into the room not a moment later, his expression etched with concern and not a little shock. “The sun is still up.”
“Thank you, Ronan. I wouldn’t have known had you not informed me.” Michael let out a long sigh. “Where’s Alex?”
Ronan looked around as though he had no idea who Michael was talking about. Good gods. “I called and told him not to bother coming back. Everything’s under control here. There was no need for him to be here.”
“Oh really?” Michael snatched Claire’s left hand from its folded position, an expensive leather wallet clutched in her grip. She tried to pull away and the long sleeve of her shirt slipped up her arm, revealing his Patek circling her wrist. Her gaze met his and her cheeks flushed before she looked away, guilty. How long had she had it? Since that night at Diablo, no doubt. She’d lured him to the back of the club with the intention of robbing him. His mate had quite the skill set, it seemed.
Ronan stared at Claire, his jaw a little slack, before he checked his jacket. “You picked my pocket?”
Michael rolled his eyes at Ronan’s appreciative tone. He plucked the wallet from her grasp and tossed it back to its owner but left his watch on her wrist.
Claire’s mouth puckered and she crossed her arms back across her chest, making her look like a petulant child. Michael kept his fingers curled around her arm, and his thumb acted of its own volition, brushing over her creamy skin. “Just a breath of fresh air?” he asked, cocking a dubious brow.
She looked away, her jaw locked down tight. Her emotions shifted from shock and embarrassment to a deep hurt that reached through their tether and stabbed Michael’s heart. He’d caused that pain, and shame welled up hot and thick in his throat. He’d taken her vein, all but using her before he cast her aside as though she were nothing. Meant nothing to him. Then, he’d coaxed her in gentle conversation only to leave her in another male’s care once the sun rose. Could she not sense the indecision warring within him? The need he felt to make her truly his? And the fear that it could never, ever be.
“Since you’re up,” Ronan said, angling his body so that his back was turned to Claire, “there’s something I need to discuss with you. Something important.”
Michael’s gaze slid toward Claire. If he left her alone again, she’d run.#p#分页标题#e#
“I think we can trust her to behave. And not to pick any more pockets today, can’t we, Claire?”
She ignored Michael and focused her attention on Ronan. “Sure. Whatever. I don’t need fresh air. I’ll just watch TV.”
Claire turned and hooked her thumbs into her back pockets, the casual gesture causing her pert breasts to jut and strain against the flimsy fabric of her T-shirt. Michael swallowed down the lust that swelled within him like a tide. The need for both her body and her blood once again sent him teetering on the edge of logical thought. She eased away from the door, a movement meant to be casual. Tension vibrated through her; her pulse had picked up the moment he’d come upon her and the frantic beat of her heart was enough to tell him that had he woken a moment later she would have been gone. She’d stolen Ronan’s wallet and planned to leave, of that Michael had no doubt.