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  A few times, I’d caught Xamien watching me from the kitchen window as I relentlessly practiced wielding my circular blades. I saw the sadness in his eyes and the disappointment. He never pushed me, but I knew he wanted me to trust him. To tell him who I was and what happened to me. All he knew was that I was a Scar and my name was Max, although the latter was obviously a lie.

  My breath hitched as Jasper’s familiar scent trickled under the heavy wooden door. My heartbeat rocketed and my nerve endings stood at attention.

  I heard the creak of the handle turning and then the door burst open so hard, my foot that was meant to stop it—didn’t, and I was crushed between the door and the wall.

  He strode in, turned and kicked the door shut with the heel of his boot.

  That cocky smirk he’d worn so easily at our last meeting was gone. Now he looked . . . vicious. Merciless. And suddenly the relief that it was him was washed away and uncertainty took over. His narrowed grey eyes blazed with a steady gravity as he looked at me. The sharp outline of his jaw pulsed and the corded muscles in his neck tightened.

  “Get changed,” Jasper ordered. There was no apology for hitting me with the door. No explanation. No acknowledgment of the gun in my hands pointed at his chest.

  And I wasn’t going anywhere with him. I had no clue why he was here in the middle of the night, but I certainly didn’t trust a rogue assassin Scar, no matter how much I’d thought about him in the last six months.

  “We need to get the fuck out of here.” I watched as he strode over to the window, parted the curtains then looked out. He was wearing black cargo pants that hung easily off his hips and a snug black t-shirt with a holster slung over his shoulder. My eyes slid down his tatted arm to his hand that was curled around the hilt of a knife.

  He swung back around and came toward me. “Fuck, sunshine. You have an issue with instructions?” He grabbed my forearm.

  I immediately reacted to his rough touch and tried to wrench my arm away, but he refused to budge. “Let me go. I’m not going anywhere with you.”

  “This better be fuckin’ worth it,” he mumbled.

  I had no idea what he was talking about, but to suddenly take off with him in the middle of the night . . . stupid considering rumor was this guy took jobs that were far past the edge of being moral.

  Jasper raised something in me, a rebellion to my coldness and I had the urge to try and break that control he held onto. “I’m not going anywhere with you, sir. Now, let me go.”

  His bruising grip tightened and his eyes drove into me. “Call me that one more time and once we get the fuck clear of here, I’ll throw you over my knee and spank your ass.”

  My breath hitched and I pulled back again, but failed to dislodge his grip, so instead, I raised my gun and pointed it at him.

  “Fuck, you’re pissing me off. Save the bullets for the assholes who are on their way here.” He yanked on my arm—hard. I stumbled into him and his hand went for my gun.

  I squeezed the trigger.

  Bang.

  The sound echoed through the room in a loud vibration along with his accompanying roar. “Fuck.”

  He let me go, staggering back a few steps, his hand on the side of his upper thigh where blood trickled between his fingers. The crushing path of the bullet left a gaping hole in his pants that was fast becoming soaked in blood.

  He growled and then his head jerked up and our eyes locked. The penetrating look was unsettling and my nerves fired off and it wasn’t from the possibility that this man would kill me; it was for what he might do beforehand.

  I remembered him looking at me in the bathroom, wearing a towel and nothing else. How his eyes roamed over my body as if he was going to throw me on the counter and have his way with me.

  I backed up a step, gun still pointed at him. But this time, I was having trouble keeping it steady. I’d never shot anyone before and I hadn’t meant to shoot Jasper, well, not really.

  Jasper lifted his hand to look at his wound then snorted. “You remember what I said six months ago?”

  Of course I did—I remembered every word. I just didn’t know which part he was referring to.

  “No morals, sunshine.” He walked to the bed, picked up the sheet, and then with his knife, he ripped off a strip. He looked up at me. “Nothing affects me. Not your contempt or anyone else’s. I don’t care whether you hate me or can’t wait to get your mouth around my cock. ‘Cause when it’s all over—I. Don’t. Give. A. Fuck. What I do care about is getting paid.” He took the piece of linen and wrapped it around his thigh several times and blood instantly seeped through. “And now my fee for saving your ass just tripled.”

  Fee? Saving me? What was he talking about?

  He grunted as he pulled tightly on the self-made bandage. Then in one fluid move, he leapt forward and kicked the gun out of my hand. It slid across the stone tiles and disappeared beneath my bed.

  I dove for it.

  Jasper dove for me.

  We both landed in a heap on the floor. Me on my stomach, Jasper on top, his hands latched onto my wrists above my head.

  My cheek pressed into the cold floor and I panted hard and it wasn’t from exertion. The feel of him on top of me, his scent awakening a rabble of butterflies, a rabble I never knew lived in me until I’d met him, a rabble I’d been fighting for months. Well, now they were having an illegal fluttering party and I needed to lock them up and throw away the key.

  The sudden hard swelling between his legs on my ass sent my pulse racing and that low octane tweak into a full-blown panty-dampening ache. I tried to wiggle to get out from under him, but stopped when he groaned.

  “Babe, loving this position, as I’m sure you’re aware. But we really don’t have time for this.”

  “Get off me.” I thought my voice would be steady; instead, it quaked and damn if he noticed.

  “Cute,” he whispered next to my ear. “Wishing we had more time. I’d fuck you just like this. Maybe bring your ass up a bit. Better for both of us.”

  Shivers trickled across my skin like tiny pebbles being washed over by a fast moving stream. His breath had a hint of raspberry as it wafted over my face and I inhaled, closing my eyes. Then I tensed as the iron scent hit me. The instinct to heal was strong in me and the burning in my hands began as the urge to heal his thigh raced through my veins.

  “Get. Off. Me.”

  “Oh, I’ll get off,” he murmured. His cock twitched and I shoved back my leg trying to hit his thigh. “Yeah, sunshine, I feel it too. We’ll get there.”

  Oh. My. God. Did he really think I’d have sex with him? Probably. No, not probably—likely.

  I hated unpredictable and Jasper’s middle name was quickly becoming unpredictable. I was good at reading people, knowing what they’d do before they did it. Jasper was a broken puzzle piece, one second sexy and flirty, the next dark and scary and I was certainly no sunshine, more like a dense fog. I was plain and impassionate . . . well, at least I was until those butterflies showed up and then the fire within me sparked into an inferno.

  Suddenly, his weight lifted and I was hauled to my feet in front of him. “I dare you to make another move, angel.” He cocked a half-grin and it was that grin I hadn’t been able to get out of my head for months. “Never hit a woman. Never will. But I sure as hell will put her in her place some other way. And spanking . . . that’s fair game.”

  I took his warning seriously. Jasper didn’t appear the type to make idle threats. I may think I could take him, but I was practical and realistic. He was an assassin and could snap my neck before I took my next breath.

  His gaze jerked to the window and his eyes narrowed, head tilted as if he was listening. “We need to leave—now,” Jasper ordered. “They’re nearly here.”

  “Who?” I asked, but Jasper was opening drawers and throwing clothes at me. “What’s going on?” A vise clamped around my chest as I thought of the one person who would come after me.

  “Humans. Not very strong, but I’d pr
efer not to get shot again.” Jasper strode toward me. “Change or you’re going like that.”

  I darted for my nightstand where my cell phone charged, but he got to me first, latching onto my wrist. “Let me call Xamien.”

  Most Scars were telepathic, but it was limited within a mile or so except for a rare few who could reach further. I had to call Xamien. I didn’t trust Jasper and I sure as hell wasn’t walking out the door with him until I found out what was going on.

  Jasper reached over and grabbed my cell then threw it on the floor and smashed it with his foot.

  I stared at the crushed pieces and then back at Jasper. “What—”

  “No phone calls.”

  I was fast getting that I wasn’t going to win here. “I can’t just leave with you. I don’t know you, and I certainly don’t trust you.” I held the clothes to my chest with one arm, my mind whirling with distrust and unbridled emotions that were playing with me like I was a ragdoll.

  He shrugged. “Never asked you to trust me and it’s better you don’t. But you sure as hell know me. I’m the guy you’ve been thinking about fucking for the last six months.” Oh, my God. “And you’re coming with me because you want to see me get paid a large sum of money for saving your ass.”

  It was like Jasper was chipping away at my numbness with a mallet and I couldn’t stop myself from punching back. “I’m not leaving until you tell me what is going on.”

  Jasper scowled and his entire body stiffened. Any hint of humor vanished as he took a step toward me. I backed up until my spine hit the barrier of the wall. Shit. I’d really pissed him off and I had no weapon, although I was uncertain whether I’d have the guts to shoot him again. He was a rogue Scar assassin, who looked as if he was going to kill me.

  He stopped inches from me then raised his knife to my neck. I didn’t breathe as he pressed the tip to the hollow of my throat and I felt a tiny pin prick. I held completely still, afraid to look away from him or move. His eyes held a dangerous glint in them as he stared at me.

  Without a word, he grabbed the neckline of my pajama top. Then with his knife, he ripped it straight down the middle. I gaped. The clothes I’d been holding now held up in front of my naked breasts. He didn’t stop there as he put his hands on my hips and yanked down my white silk pajama pants.

  “Oh, my God.” I stood in my pink panties in front of him, but he wasn’t even paying attention to me; instead, he strode to the window again.

  “Put the fuckin’ clothes on or you go naked.” His tone was rough with a deep Scottish brogue as the tension pulsated from him.

  I knew when to stop fighting and at the moment, Jasper was furious and I was certain any second, he’d either shoot me himself and take a loss on whatever money he was being paid, or throw me over his shoulder with nothing but my panties on.

  I quickly pulled on the khaki shorts and pale pink t-shirt with the sparkly white horse on the front. A present from Xamien on my first Christmas here. It came with my favorite weapon—my circular blades.

  By the time I was dressed, he was in front of me again, grabbing my arm and before I even had the shirt pulled down, he tugged me toward the door.

  Then I heard it; cars driving up the gravel driveway and skidding to a stop and then doors opening and slamming shut.

  “Looks like I’ll have to work for my money now. Hope you know how to kick some ass because I plan on living to get paid for this job.” I never had the opportunity to use my weapons, but I practiced with them and thought I could hold my own. “Our best scenario . . . we get out of here alive. The worst . . . I have to use you to bargain for my life.”

  I gawked at him. “You wouldn’t.” But from the snippets of info I’d gathered on Jasper, I was betting he would.

  His brows rose. “You want to test it, sunshine?” I heard the front door splinter as it was forced open. He waited for my answer and I finally shook my head. He smirked and then opened the door and pulled me into the hall.

  My breath hitched as glass shattered and I slammed my back against the wall. Jasper didn’t stop though and pulled me behind him until we were close to the bannister overlooking the front hall. I banged into his side when he stopped abruptly. He glanced at me and scowled, but didn’t say anything. He tilted his head and his eyes narrowed as if listening for where the men were located downstairs.

  Then he turned to me and said without a hint of teasing. “In case I die, you should know I’ve wanted to fuck you since that day in the bathroom.”

  Wow, he really had no filter, and why would he want to fuck me? I was a pin cushion of scars and burns.

  “Yeah, I saw the scars. Don’t give a fuck either. Means you have a story is all. One I plan on reading while sinking between your thighs.” Jasper didn’t tiptoe around me like I was some glass figurine with scrapes all over it. He was direct, honest and . . . completely offensive.

  I caught his gaze looking me up and down as if he was contemplating whether to toss me against the wall and fuck me before we died or take his chances and hope we made it out alive then fuck me. And for some crazy screwed-up reason, the thought had my heart racing and my sex clenching. But when Jasper looked at me with heat blazing in his eyes I felt—wanted. Desired.

  But I was damaged goods and I didn’t have sex—period. Sex was carnal and filled with emotion. There was too much of a chance my shields would falter and he’d see more of who I was. And the consequences of that ever getting out . . . it was safer for everyone this way.

  He lowered his voice and nodded to the stairwell. “I’m guessing ten trained men with high-powered guns. That’s the bad news. The good . . .” he grinned. “I fight harder turned on.”

  I never wanted to slap someone before; I just didn’t care enough to have anyone piss me off—until Jasper. Now I wanted to slap him and then . . . kiss him. Jesus. What the hell was wrong with me?

  The men’s footsteps crunching on broken pieces of glass, china, and whatever else they’d destroyed, blanketed any crazy desire I was fighting. Xamien was going to be pissed and Xamien pissed meant there would be hell to pay. He was cool, calm and had the patience of a saint, but when Xamien lost it he was a tsunami.

  “Stay the fuck behind me. I get shot, knifed, whatever, you can heal my ass.”

  My stomach plummeted. “What?” How did he know I was a Healer? No one knew.

  He opened the door. “Babe, the moment I touched you, I knew.”

  My head spun and knees weakened. “Did you tell anyone?”

  He hesitated, eyes watching me as if he was assessing something. “Nope. Let’s go.” He chin-lifted to the left, which led to the rear of the house, then let go of my hand. His back to the wall, he moved along it, knife in his hand, gun in his pants at the small of his back. His steps quickly ate up the ground, but he was quiet and calm.

  Jasper stopped, turned toward me, dragged his eyes down my front and then yanked off his black t-shirt and tossed it to me.

  I stared at it for a second, then at his naked chest that was a hard slab of muscle with tats drawn across his left shoulder to link with the ones on his arm.

  “Put it on. You stick out like a fuckin’ cotton candy with those stupid horse sparkles.”

  I quickly put it on over my top and it hung down to my mid-thigh. The scent of him drew into my lungs and I inhaled deeply with my chin down until I heard his distinct chuckle. Then I wanted to shoot myself in the foot.

  Jasper’s hand came around the back of my neck and he jerked me toward him. He cupped my chin with his blade still in his hand so the handle was cold against my jaw. Then he leaned in and before I could take my next breath, his mouth was on mine.

  I was so astonished I just stood there and let him kiss me. We had men coming after us. He was shot in the leg and he was kissing me and it was . . . Jesus, it was penetrating and unforgiving and hard.

  It was beautiful.

  I hadn’t had much beauty in my life, but this . . . the urgency in him. The need. It encompassed me and I sagge
d against him, while his unyielding mouth moved against mine with possession.

  He let me go and without a word headed for the stairs.

  I stood frozen, lips swollen and knees weak.

  He glanced back at me. “Wait until I have my cock in you.”

  I huffed as each butterfly was murdered and plummeted to a painful death in the pit of my stomach.

  I FUCKIN’ KISSED HER. I hadn’t planned on it . . . well, not yet at least, but seeing her inhale my scent on my shirt . . . that snapped my control. It was fuckin’ hot as hell.

  I heard two sets of footsteps start up the stairs and quickly shoved Max back against the wall. I put my finger to my lips then gestured for her to stay, and crept down a few steps to peer over the railing.

  I glanced back at Max to make certain she was following my instructions, because I was fast realizing that underneath the submissive shell she hid behind, lay defiance. I hadn’t expected it until she shot me. Now that was one fuck of a surprise. I didn’t think she’d have the guts, but having watched her for the last six months between jobs, I knew she was capable of handling a weapon. I just didn’t expect her to use one on me.

  She’d trembled when I kissed her and those lips, that mouth had been warm and pliable beneath mine. Jesus, it was better than I’d imagined and I imagine a fuck of a lot. The thing was this was now a job. She was a job. I didn’t want it to be. Fuck, it was the worst fucked-up job ever, but there was no way in hell any other fucker was getting near her.

  It had to be me.

  Jesus Christ, I wanted to fuck the girl I was hired to kill.

  Yeah, well, I may not get the chance to do either if we didn’t get out of here. I threw my legs over the railing and leapt, landing hard on top of one guy and taking him down. The shooting pain in my thigh from the bullet wound made my vision go black for a second and I shook my head trying to clear it.

  I heard movement in front of me and kicked out with my good leg and bashed the other guy in the chest, sending him rolling down the stairs like a beach ball that popped and deflated at the bottom as he lay on his stomach stunned for a second.