The Trueblood Dynasty

But instead they circled her neck and started to squeeze.

That’s when she remembered, even deeply asleep, that the lean, edgy man wasn’t just beautiful.

He was dangerous.

She needed to remember that, and promised herself she would as she shifted into a more normal sleep. She dreamed of Terry, of their happy, care-free childhood as a watchful part of her chased away the disturbing dreams.

And awakened with a silent scream when a hand covered her mouth.

“Where is she?”

Nina could see nothing, which added to her terror. Kicking out into the dark room, she found herself pinned to the mattress, a hard, powerful body stretched out over hers, her arms immobile above her head.

“Come on, Nina.” He said the name slowly, purposely, in his very American way, and she knew instantly who held her so intimately. “Tell me.”

Fear clouded her brain for a moment, before her rare temper took over and she remembered to use her knee forcefully.

A satisfying grunt sounded in her ear, but he recovered quickly, simply using his superior strength and weight to hold her still. “Hey! Careful!”

That he sounded more incredulous than angry didn’t stop her from struggling, and though he was on to her now, she still gave him a good fight.

“Don’t, damn it,” he grated in her ear, doing his best to both hold her and fight her off, but her fear and temper had dulled her mind, and she fought him mindlessly, getting in one more carefully aimed knee before he pressed her hard into the mattress.

Lifting his head, chest heaving from the exertion, he spoke an inch from her mouth. “Lord, you’re a squirmy little thing.”

His skin was warm, his body hard with muscle. His weight wasn’t uncomfortable, which disturbed her.

So did the way her body seemed to welcome his thigh thrust high between hers, forcing her legs open. Despite the confusing, mixed signals her brain sent, she continued to struggle. “Get off me!”

“Soon as you promise not to scratch my eyes out. Or other, more critical parts.”

“I promise.” She’d promise him the moon if he’d get off her.

He slanted her a doubtful gaze, then sighed the sigh of a martyr, as though he was the one being inconvenienced. “Look, your virtue is safe with me, all right? You’re not even my type, so just relax and answer my questions.”

Not only had he invaded her home and scared her half to death, but she was quite certain she’d just been insulted. “Get off me!”

“First tell me why you have two goons following you. Oh, and the question of the day, of course. Where is your sister?”

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