She laughed; okay, maybe it was more of a giggle. She tucked her left leg up under her right one then turned in her seat with her back to the door. “I was just thinking how your beard grows in fast. You’d just shaved it and already stubble is coming back.” He looked real good with that bit of stubble.

He ran a hand across his cheek as if to confirm this, then shrugged. “Guess it does.”

“I like it.” Maybe it was the way she said it, which may have been breathless, or the fact that she leaned forward in her seat toward him, but he shot her a look so hot she almost moaned. That wasn’t even a lie; she almost actually moaned at the look. A look that said he could tear off her clothes and be inside her in less than thirty seconds if he wanted to right now. And that he really did want to.

Her heart pounded way too hard and fast. She pressed her hand to it and took a deep breath. Only after his gaze returned to the road did her heartbeat return to normal. But the evidence of his scathing look still lingered with her, in her wet panties.

“What happened in the office?” he asked.

God, she really didn’t want to talk about that. She still didn’t know if it’d been her overactive imagination or really Joseph. It could have just been another Justicar looking for Brayden, or the janitor walking down the hall. But then, what had made me so scared? She screwed her eyes shut and expelled those thoughts. Joseph wasn’t going to ruin her good mood or any more of her life. She’d already let him do that for two years. No more.

“Nothing, just let myself get spooked. You know, I think you’re one of the few men who’d look really hot with a beard. I’m not talking ZZ Top beards, but a short one.” She sighed as the picture of him with a crisp, short beard came to mind. Yup, hot shit.

He didn’t say anything, and a little while later they pulled under the detached garage port. He let her in the house then headed to his office, manila envelope tucked under his arm, without a word. Well, that was that, she guessed. Did her hot beard comment set him off or something?

She must be stupid, or at the very least, overly emotional, because when he closed the door without a word, her heart actually felt squeezing pressure over it like some weight sat on her chest. Yup, it was stupid and silly, but it hurt her feelings. Cursing him with every bad name she knew, she treaded up the stairs and stopped at the hallway to her door. Actually, it felt like something stopped her, some instinct. She stared at her door, thinking through slow alcohol-muddled thoughts, then it hit her. When they’d left that morning, she hadn’t closed her door, but it was firmly shut now. A soft laugh escaped her. Gail must have been up here cleaning.

She let out a deep breath then opened the door. She hit the light, but didn’t go inside as her narrowed eyes surveyed the room. Empty, nothing. Her bed had been made and some of the clothes must have been washed because they were stacked neatly and folded on her dresser.

“God I need a shower,” she mumbled and headed for the dresser. She found even more clothes in the dresser drawers all smelling of lovely fresh lavender and folded into little squares. She had to remember to thank Gail, because she’d done all of her laundry, even washed the new clothes she’d just bought. Okay, that Brayden just bought.

She grabbed a T-shirt and pair of undies from the dresser, then stopped. A cold sweat came over her. Her chest pulled tight, making it hard to breathe.

“Brayden,” she whispered. Then louder, “Brayden. Brayden! BRAYDEN!”

Booming footsteps from the stairs sounded, hammering in time to the beat of her raucous heart. “What the fuck happened?”

She stepped back from the dresser, finger pointing. His body pressed against her back and somehow her breathing calmed if only a little. His body stilled, then he crossed in front of her to pick up the mating symbol pressed between her clothes. He’d been in here. In her things. He picked up the rope made from her and Joseph’s hair and clothing on the day they mated. The first day he’d taken her to bed and touched her. Her skin crawled like millions of ants dancing across her flesh with wet, scratchy legs.

“Take your stuff and go to my room.”

“He was here. He was actually here.” Her voice sounded faraway, distant.

“Vanessa, get your clothes and go to my room now.”

“But, he was here! In your house. In my things.” Her eyes landed on the mating symbol in his hand and something hot and angry came over her. “Give it to me!” She reached for it, but he held it away. Her jaw tightened but she didn’t stop reaching for it. “I’m going to burn the fucking thing. Just give it to me, Brayden!”

“Vanessa, calm down. It’s okay.”

His soothing voice sounded grating on her very last nerve. She stood on tiptoed, curling her hands into his shirt and yelled into his face. “I will not calm down! Give me the fucking symbol!”

He blinked, something flashing in his eyes. Her frustrated mind had no time to analyze it, to figure out what the look meant. But she figured out rather quickly when his arms banded around her waist and lifted her up so his mouth could claim hers. She growled at him, squirming in his arms to get away, but his grip at her waist only tightened, one hand coming up to cup the back of her head to keep her still.

And it worked. Then his mouth captured hers hard. His tongue tore through her defenses, laving her in a kiss of steamy fire, and anger turned to passion. Her stomach clenched in response, even as her mind warred with the different, startling emotions of anger and desire. He tasted good, and she didn’t want him to. His lips felt soft and sensual against hers, and she hated that even more. And when his kiss gentled and he softly took her lips over and again, she wilted against him like a flower, completely in his control.

He pulled back, his hand massaging her scalp in a way that sent chills down her neck and arms. “Go into my room, baby. The lock code is four, seven, two, nine. Can you do that for me?”

The protest started to erupt before she could quench it, but that was okay, because he did it for her. His mouth slanted across hers, their breaths mingling.

“Can you do that for me?”

She nodded, dazed. He stepped away from her and the room spun, but not from alcohol this time. She walked out of the room without feeling her limbs. She felt like a zombie, or a robot performing the programmed function necessary for the task. She found his door, entered a code on the pad next to it, something that’d escaped her attention before, then entered. The room was dark, very dark, but her eyes adjusted and landed on the dark coverlet of his bed sitting low to the floor.

She went to it, pulled back the cover and got inside. She suddenly felt exhausted. All the energy it’d taken today had sapped her. She pressed her nose into the pillow and sniffed his scent, Brayden’s scent. It made her feel warm and safe. With the heady masculine taste of Brayden on her tongue, her lips, she closed her eyes and fell asleep faster than ever before.

A stirring of air. The slight compression of a foot on a wood floor. Something woke her up. Vanessa sat up, her back kissing the headboard as her eyes scanned the dark room around her. A figure stood then came for her. A scream erupted in her throat, then choked to a stop as the lamp next her was flicked on.

Her breaths came out in pants. “Brayden.”

The bed dipped as his strong body sat next to her. “Expecting someone else?”

“Hell, no,” she said quickly. “What time is it? Why’d you wake me?”

He looked away, the lamp lighting the half of his profile facing her. Crinkles formed around his eyes and his grim mouth casted his whole visage into a dark countenance.