She blinked. What she wore in the shower? She was naked in the shower.
A blush crept up her cheeks. Jeez. Was she slow or what? He liked her better naked. “Yes, well. As that’s not practical...”
Zan stalked to her, his blazing eyes halting her mid-sentence. “It’s very practical. Being continuously naked saves time and water from washing dirty clothes. Saves money from not buying all those clothes, and saves me from going insane with the need to see you naked.” Clear hunger and mischief combined and gave his features a naughty, predatory appearance. It was a great look for him. “I call that an all around win-win situation.”
If at all possible, her face grew hotter. She cleared her throat. “Yes, well...” she started again, not sure what she was going to say when a pounding rattled the bedroom door.
Zan closed his eyes and let out a frustrated groan. “Always with the interruptions. I swear I don’t know how Russell managed to stay sane when he brought Marion here.”
“That’s because I took her on a month-long honeymoon you horny bastard.” Russell’s voice was muffled through the thick wood. “Get out here. Both of you. We have a situation heading our way.”
Zan morphed from playful wolf to alert soldier in less than a blink, his shoulders stiffening, his head up, and nostrils flaring as if sensing danger. And did his ears just twitch?
“Shider?”
“No.” Russell replied. “Worse. A storm.”
Jackie frowned in confusion at Zan’s soft curse. “A storm? Like a hurricane?”
Brows tight in concentration far from the present, Zan shook his head. “No. Nothing like that. But a rainstorm will eradicate any scent trails. The thunder and rain could deafen any foreign sounds, and depending on how hard it rains, vision will be compromised.”
Which meant Zan’s enhanced senses might not be of much use to counteract any attack. If it came to hand-to-hand, Zan of course would be the ultimate winner, but a big game hunter would already know that and strike from a distance. Shider’s best bet would be to climb one of the numerous large trees that surrounded the property and take his prey down through the safety of a scope.
So maybe a storm would be for the best. At least the cloud cover would dim or better yet, eliminate the glow of the full moon. Shider would have to get closer to take Zan out. Close enough for that hand-to-hand combat?
“Maybe we should leave the house, check into a hotel or something if the rain will cause that much of a problem,” She suggested.
Zan’s grin was one quarter humorous, one-quarter anticipation, and the rest pure confidence. She could almost see him mentally rubbing his hands together in relish. “Nay. It just makes the game more interesting.”
“The game?” Jackie stared at him slack-jawed. “You seriously consider blood and death a ‘game’?”
Either ignoring her question because he knew he’d misspoke, or more accurately because his mind was already planning and plotting, Zan cupped Jackie’s face and pressed an absent kiss on her chilled lips. “No worries, angel. It’ll all be over soon.”
Calmly spoken as if reassuring her about some tedious duty he needed to attend, like taking out the trash. Her chin was still on the floor when he opened the bedroom door and held out a hand for her, the eagerness he felt pushing his power through the cracks of his restraint whispered over her skin like an air-conditioner on full blast. She shivered.
The hallway was empty. No doubt Russell hustled back to his wife’s side, knowing Zan would shortly be down. Jackie might wonder how the other woman handled the fear and worry for her mate if Marion hadn’t already explained that once she and Russell wed, Russell had eased off field work, keeping mainly to the house and working background checks, surveillance and strategic planning for the other members of the team. He was their boss and their backup, all in one.
Jackie probably could work with that, but not the sheer readiness that bordered on a maniacal glee she glimpsed in Zan’s eyes. The need to hunt and protect might be instinctive, but willingly jumping into one battle after another was a foreign concept to her. She simply couldn’t see herself kissing her husband goodbye while he dashed off to some dark location on a dangerous exertion where violence reigned and death was a common occurrence. Her knowledge of military tactics and fighting came because of who her father and grandfather were, not due to an aggressive need to feel her fists hitting flesh or some gun-ho mentality.
“Angel?” Jackie glanced from his extended hand to his face. Concern clouded his eyes.
Well, at least he hasn’t totally forgotten me in his rush, she thought mulishly, then wanted to smack herself for it. All her maturity had collapsed the second the mating heat had kicked in, throwing her back in time to the crazy years of puberty. It was mortifying.