Something he could be proud of. Tanner hadn’t exactly been proud of a lot of things in his life.

Not his murdering bastard of a father.

Not his sadistic shifter brother, Brandt.

And he’d sure not been proud of himself. Not with all the blood on his hands. Tanner glanced down at his hands. The skin was a dark tan, smooth, but he knew the blood was still there. Some things just couldn’t be washed away.

“I suppose you want me to thank you,” Marna said, her words drawing his gaze back to her.

She stood at the edge of the would-be foyer, her hands on her hips, eyeing him like he was some kind of disgusting bug that had crawled across her path.

So what else was new? She’d been looking at him that way ever since he found her. Ever since she realized just exactly who—what—he was.

Never good enough for her.

But, hell, who would be good enough? Maybe another angel, one of those lily-white jerks who knew nothing of sin.

And as for thanking him . . . “I did keep your sweet ass out of a jail cell.” He’d gotten her clear, permanently. No one would be looking for a dead woman.

Not that anyone should go looking for her. But just in case, he had friends at the hospital, folks who knew the paranormal score and who owed him favors. They’d make a paperwork trail to show that she was truly dead, and those hospital connections had even set a plan in motion to cremate one Marna Smith.

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He’d only been half bullshitting when he said bodies disappeared from the morgue. In this case, she wouldn’t totally vanish—her ashes would be left behind as proof of her death. And with the ashes and death certificate on file, that would be the end of the story.

It wasn’t the first time he’d made a body disappear. Wouldn’t be the last either.

“You’re also the one who led the cops right to me at that club.” Marna wasn’t relenting. The lady knew how to hold on to her anger. Kinda sexy the way her cheeks flushed and her eyes glittered. But then, he thought most things about her were sexy. “If you’d just stayed away, then—”

He pounced. No other word. Sometimes, the panther inside liked to jump after his prey. In an instant, he was across the room and caging her against the wall with his arms. Tanner made sure that he didn’t touch her, not yet.

Soon.

Her scent slid around him. He realized he was already rock hard, but then that wasn’t a real surprise. His body had only one response to seeing her: Time to f**k. He got hard just being in the same room with her.

But the lust would have to wait. Not for long though. He was getting damn near insane from wanting her. Tanner cleared his throat, the better not to growl, as he said, “We got a tip that you were in that club. An APB had been put out for you by the PD. If I hadn’t come in to get you . . .” He bent his head and more of her scent—fucking flowers—teased his nose.

A guy could get drunk off Marna’s scent. Temptation had never smelled so sweet.

He sucked in a breath and tasted her. “If it hadn’t been me, it would have been one hell of a lot rougher. The boys in blue who came after you wouldn’t have played nearly as nicely as I did.”

Her lips were parted, revealing the edge of her white teeth. “Bullshit.”

He blinked. Not exactly what he’d expected to hear coming from an angel’s mouth. Looked like Marna was picking up some dirty habits.

He’d like to teach her a few more.

“You were afraid,” she charged. “You thought I’d kill any other cops who came after me.”

He was being careful not to touch her, but Marna lifted her hand and placed it right over his heart. She had to feel the frantic beat, but he couldn’t help it. Being so close to her had his body tensing.

And his c**k hardening even more.

Want her.

Even though he knew just how lethal she could be.

“You know what angels like me can do.” Marna’s voice had a husky edge. Her eyes stared up at his, and he could see the challenge plain on her face. “Are you afraid of me now?”

Fear wasn’t exactly what he felt. If she just moved her hand down a ways, she’d be able to tell that. “No.”

Some of the challenge faded from her gaze.

He lifted his right hand and caught her chin, tilting her head back. Now it was his turn. “But I know you’re terrified of me.”

Then he did what he’d been dying to do for the last two months.

Tanner took her mouth. Her lips were still parted, so he thrust his tongue inside. She gasped and he took her breath, kissing her harder. Deeper.

Her lips were so damn soft. And her taste . . .

The sweetest temptation.

Like strawberries. Fresh strawberries. And . . . champagne. The fancy stuff that he hardly ever bought. Delicious. Good enough to make him feel a little drunk.

Want more.

She’d frozen in his arms. Not kissing him back. Not shoving him away. Not responding. Screw that. He pushed her back against the wall and licked her lips. The woman had fire inside of her. He’d find it.

Marna trembled against him. With that small movement, her lips parted even more. A growl broke from his throat, and Tanner let the kiss deepen. Let her taste the hunger and lust that he could barely keep in check around her.

Then her tongue licked against his mouth.

Yes.

Her hand rose from his chest and curled around his shoulder. Instead of pushing him away, she pulled him closer.

Kissed him harder.

Deeper.

Their bodies pressed together. No way could she miss the heavy c**k thrusting against her, and the feel of her tight, pebbled ni**les against his chest had Tanner desperate to strip her, and taste her—everywhere.

He’d been wrong. She didn’t fear him, she—

Marna pushed him away. Because the lady packed one hell of a lot of strength in that slender body, he flew back about five feet.

They stared at each other. Her lips were red and swollen from his mouth. Her breath heaved out, and a flush stained her cheeks. “Why . . .” She cleared her throat and tried again because that one word had been a gasp, “Why did you do that?”

Did she really need to ask? Because I want you. But he said, “Because it was time you realized a few truths about me.”

She licked her lips. Fuck. His back teeth clenched. Could she still taste him? He could still taste her.

Want. More.

He’d be having more.

Her gaze darted to the door behind him. He could all but read her thoughts, but, sorry, angel. She wasn’t getting away from him that easily.

“I want you,” he told her. The words were heavy, hard, and they seemed to sink into the thick silence that had grown in the small room.




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