shook her head, her hair shimmering with pale beauty even in the darkness.
“Hip-frigging-hooray for you. Who said I wanted to be rescued?”
“You aren’t being held against your will?”
“No one holds me against my will.” She flicked a dismissive gaze over his less than pristine suit. “Especially not a man.”
Salvatore growled low in his throat. He didn’t get dismissive glances from women. Women drooled and panted and sometimes fainted when he entered a room.
“It doesn’t matter,” he rasped. “You’re coming with me.”
“Very smooth, Romeo.” Levet moved to stand at his side. “It’s no wonder the Weres are nearly extinct.”
Salvatore glared at the gargoyle. It didn’t improve his mood to know the miniature demon was right. He could seduce a woman with a mere glance, so why was he barely restraining his urge to snap and snarl?
Because the female was his, a voice whispered in the back of his mind. And she was damned well going to admit it.
“Levet,” he warned as the demon waddled forward.
“Shh. Allow the master to work.” With a flick of his tail, Levet halted directly in front of Harley, and performed an awkward bow. “Please forgive my oafish companion, beautiful Harley. He is never troubled by the need to display good manners.” He heaved a dramatic sigh. “Royalty, you cannot live with them, cannot slice off their heads. Well, not without a great deal of stupid fuss.” The delicate wings fluttered. “What Salvatore intended to say was that we would be deeply honored to have your company so we can converse with you over a lovely meal.” He licked his lips. “Perhaps a roasted ox. Or two.”
A reluctant smile curved Harley’s lips and Salvatore swallowed a sigh. Men wanted to drown the gargoyle on sight, women inevitably found him charming. It was as unfathomable as black holes.
“I like you,” she murmured.
“But of course you do, ma belle. I am quite irresistible to the opposite sex. It is a blessing…and a curse.”
“Enough.” Salvatore scowled. “I have been searching for you for a long time, Harley. You’re not going to escape me now.”
“Oh, yeah?” A slow, taunting smile curved her lips. “Then come and get me.”
She whirled on her heel and with startling speed, was headed toward the side of the house.
In less than a heartbeat, Salvatore was giving chase, his brain shutting down as his predatory nature took over.
He didn’t know what he intended to do when he caught her. Bite her, bed her, or toss her over his shoulder and lock her in his lair. But it was going to be deeply satisfying.
“Salvatore…” Levet called, his voice nothing but a distant annoyance.
His only thought was catching the slender form that was rounding the corner of the house.
Had he been in his right mind, he would never have given chase. Madre del dio, it had trap written all over it. As it was, his only thought was sweet vanilla and warm woman.
Cutting the corner around the house, he had a nanosecond to realize that Harley had come to a halt and was standing with a smug grin on her lips. Then the earth beneath his feet began to shift and he was falling through empty air.
“Sucker,” the woman called, adding insult to injury as Salvatore hit the paved floor and the top of the silver cage slammed shut above him.
Harley’s heart was thundering in her chest as she paused at the entrance to the basement.
A part of her was damned proud of herself.
After years of having Salvatore Giuliani’s name used as her personal boogeyman, she hadn’t panicked when he’d suddenly appeared. In fact, she’d coolly stood her ground, and even lured the mighty King of Weres into her trap.
Piece of cake.
Harley blew out a sigh and wiped the sweat from her brow.
Liar, liar.
Her seeming composure had been nothing more than shock and temporary insanity.
The shock had been a result of the realization that the powerful Were who wanted her dead had finally tracked her down, and was standing just a few feet away.
The insanity was the raw, undeniable reaction to Salvatore’s presence.
Frigging hell.
Caine had warned her that Salvatore was a powerful beast. Werewolves didn’t have hereditary royalty. They fought and schemed and bullied their way to the top. Like Top Model, only with a lot more blood and less boobs.
What Caine hadn’t mentioned was that Salvatore was drop-dead, mouthwateringly gorgeous.
A shudder shook her at the thought of his lean, darkly handsome face and eyes like liquid gold. His features were pure Latin, with a long aquiline nose and full lips. His hair was a rich wave of raven satin that flowed just past his shoulders. And his body…yum. Even beneath the filthy suit, she could tell it was lean and hard in all the right places.
Still, she’d seen handsome men before.
Caine was no slouch in the looks department.
So why hadn’t any of them made her blood sizzle and her palms sweat?
It was like he possessed some sort of electric charge that was the precise current to push her buttons.
All her buttons.
She knocked her head against the wall, telling herself to stop being an idiot.
So, Salvatore had an animal magnetism. No doubt being the king gave him an extra umph or something. That didn’t mean she was about to forget the fact that the bastard had killed her sisters.
Or that he’d been hunting her for years.
Damn his black soul.
She wished he’d never shown up, she told herself sternly. But now that she had him caged, she wanted answers.
Hiding her unease behind a mocking smile, Harley pushed open the door and stepped inside.
The basement was divided in half, one side being a high-tech lab where Caine practiced his scientific voodoo, and this side being an equally high-tech prison. Usually the three silver cages were used for curs who were stupid enough to piss off Caine, but over the past months Caine had installed the triggered traps in the yard to discourage intruders.
Her mouth went dry as she spotted Salvatore standing in the middle of the closest silver cage.
If he was dangerous before, now he was nothing less than feral.
The golden eyes glowed with a tangible heat, his lips curled to reveal the white teeth that could grow to lethal fangs in the blink of an eye.
“Let me out of here,” he demanded, his voice thick.
Harley forced her reluctant feet forward, refusing to be unnerved by the choking power that filled the room. God Almighty, she’d never felt anything like it.
“But I just went to so much effort to get you in there,” she taunted. “Well, maybe it wasn’t so much effort. Like all men, you see a woman and assume you naturally have the upper hand.”
Salvatore stilled, his fury morphing into something far more dangerous. With a slow glide, his gaze seared over her body, taking his sweet time in memorizing her every curve before lifting back to her face.
“Let me guess, you’re a woman who likes to be on top?”
“Always.”
“Come in here and I can show you the benefits of being on the bottom.”
A disturbing shiver raced through her body. “Being