Spellbound - Sylvia Day Page 0,2

scent. He was so tall, so hard, so intense. Only the silky lock of dark hair that draped his brow softened his purely masculine features. If he weren’t a Hunter, she’d be crawling all over him, she wanted him that badly.

As his gaze dropped to the swell of her breasts, his mouth curved in a carnal smile. “I bet I’m the better cook,” he rasped softly, his fingers stroking hers, sending sparks of awareness through her.

She pouted. “You won’t know if you don’t come over.”

He pulled away, his charm vanishing in an instant. “My place or I’ll have to decline.”

Victoria wished she were in her feline form so she could flick her tail at him. Max Westin was most definitely accustomed to getting what he wanted. He was a Dominant, as were all Hunters. Too bad she was, too.

“A pity.” And she meant it, her disappointment was painful. His place was not an option. Who knew what spells he’d cast there? And what toys he had . . . ? It would be akin to walking into a cage.

She ignored the thrill the thought gave her.

“You changed your mind?” His surprise was a tangible thing.

The man definitely didn’t hear “no” often enough.

“I asked you to dinner, Mr. Westin, and you placed restrictions on the invitation.” She waved her hand toward the door in a gesture of dismissal designed to rile him. “I don’t tolerate restrictions.”

A return warning to him.

When he made no move to leave, she purred aloud, a soft rumbling sound that made the muscle in his jaw tic.

So . . . the raging attraction was reciprocated. That made her feel slightly better about waiting longer to have him.

With calm, deliberate movements, Westin lifted the bottle and drank, the working muscles of his throat making her mouth dry. The implied threat in his actions was not lost on her.

Then he set the empty container on the edge of her desk and came toward her, buttoning his coat before clasping her hand. His touch burned, even though his skin was cold and wet with condensation. His gaze was as icy as his grip. He’d regroup and come back, she knew.

And she’d be waiting.

Victoria brushed her fingers across his palm again before releasing him. “See you soon, Max.”

Max stepped out of the St. John Hotel and cursed vehemently. Gritting his teeth, he fought off the erection that threatened to embarrass him on the crowded sidewalk.

Victoria St. John was trouble.

He’d known that the moment the Council had summoned him. Taming ferals was a task for lesser, newer warlocks. The request had startled him at first, and then intrigued him. When he’d met his prey, however, he understood.

Sly and playful, Victoria moved with the natural grace of a cat. Short black hair and tip-tilted green eyes made her a heady temptation. He’d seen her picture a hundred times and felt nothing more than simple appreciation for a beautiful face. In person, however, Victoria was devastating, all sensuality and heat. She was a bit thin for his tastes, more lithe than curvy, but those legs . . . Those impossibly long legs . . . Soon they would be wrapped around his hips while he stroked his cock deep into her. But it wouldn’t be easy. She made that clear with her smile.

She knew who and what he was, which meant the rumors of her power were true. She was no ordinary Familiar.

He shook his head. Darius had been a fool. Familiars needed the strong hand of a warlock or they turned feral. Victoria was a prime example. She was already too wild, defying the High Council at every turn.

She’d also defied him.

Both intrigued and attracted, Max mentally ran through the information he’d gathered before approaching her. Victoria was one of the most prominent figures of their kind, her shrewd business dealings taking her from franchising a motel to owning one of the largest chains of upscale hotels in the country. Up until the death of her warlock, she’d been an esteemed member of the magical community. Her wildness since Darius’s passing solidified the Council’s position that it was best if the pairings were made with mental calculation, rather than through affairs of the heart. Occasionally, love grew anyway such as happened to Victoria, but this was far rarer with Council intervention.

Max rounded the corner and stepped into a side alley. Using his powers, he bridged the distance across town to his penthouse apartment in the blink of an eye. There he paced the