Savage Lust

Making a deliberate effort to push all those thoughts from his brain, he pulled himself together. “Regan Fortune?”

She looked up at him. “Yes. And you’re Mr. Martello?”

“Dante. Please.” He reached out a hand to shake hers. And was nearly knocked off his feet by the bolt of heat that shot through him. It took every bit of control he had not to react.

But she felt it too. He saw it in the widening of her eyes, the shocked look on her face. She withdrew her hand at once.

Hoping nothing showed on his face, he slid onto the seat across from her. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with me. Would you like something to drink?”

“No.” Anger vibrated from every line of her body but what he noticed more was the combination of fear and anguish in her eyes. “Thank you, but this isn’t a social event.”

“As you wish.”

She drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly, a movement that called attention to the outline of her breasts beneath the sweater. Dante’s long-dormant cock once again decided to make itself known. Thank god for the barrier of his jeans and the protection of the booth. But he needed to get control of himself.

Think of Felicia.

“I checked with your boss in Chicago,” she began. “He vouched for you, which is the only reason I’m here. But I’m sure you can understand why I still need to see some identification.” Her lips twisted in a bitter expression. “Although I wouldn’t put it past some reporter to buy phony credentials to get to me.”

Anticipating something like this, Dante had taken his badge wallet from the drawer in his suite where he still kept it. Now he pulled it out of his pocket, opened it and placed it on the table in front of her.

“I assure you, this is the real thing. You can even take my picture with your phone and send it to Chicago, if you’d like.”

Giving her a moment to study his shield, he took out a Night Seekers business card and placed it beside the badge.

Craig had decided they all needed to carry something to identify themselves, to give them an air of legitimacy. The card contained only each individual’s name, cell number, email address and, in italic script, Night Seekers.

Regan picked it up, frowning. “What’s this?”

“I have a slight confession. When I identified myself as a Chicago cop, that was only half true. I—”

“Damn you!” She started to slide out of the booth. “And damn your boss who lied for you!”

Dante closed his fingers over her wrist. Again, an electric shock zipped through his arm, stunning him once more. From the shock on Regan’s face, she felt it too. He had to steel himself not to pull his hand away from her, from the heat of her skin nearly burning his fingertips.

What the hell?

“Stop. Wait.” Reflexively, he tightened his hold on her. “He didn’t lie. Exactly. I’m not a reporter. I promise you. Give me five minutes to explain myself. After that, if you want to leave, you can. Please. Just five minutes.”

She didn’t look happy but she did as he asked, body rigid, eyes flashing.

Make it good and make it believable.

He peeled his fingers from her wrist, hoping it would help his body return to some semblance of normalcy. If he even knew what normal was anymore.