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On the run from a mental institution and her vindictive half-brother, it’s safe to say that Sarah Pringle’s happy life as a schoolteacher is on hold. Too bad that as far as self-defense goes, “run and hide” is the best she’s got. And with the monsters that started her escape hot on her heels, that’s not going to cut it for long…
That is, unless Sarah has a bigger, badder, hotter monster on her side. Max Petrovsky is right at the top of the list of alpha male ass-kickers. And he knows exactly what Sarah’s up against. Good thing, because the minute he sees her something primal kicks in, turning everyday attraction into red-hot desire. As long as they’re cooperating, why not mix some pleasure with business? Of course, Max should probably tell Sarah he’s a vampire himself…
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“Miss Pringle? I’m coming in.” The door opened on a gust of wind, and Max stepped inside.
“Wow.” She could only gape. Wet brown hair, thick and wavy, plastered to his head. A soaked black t-shirt and jeans revealed rock hard muscle. No injuries from the fight? Perfectly healthy. Not even winded. He was the largest man she’d ever seen. His face was rugged…strong. Not handsome…but, well, masculine. Yeah. That was the term. Deep, dark, and shielded brown eyes took her measure.
A shiver slid down her spine—some fear—some intrigue. “How did you find me?”
“You left a trail a first week Boy Scout could follow. I saw you heading for the tower, so I just kept pace until you got here.” He eyed her sopping clothing, dark gaze wandering up to her face. “Your lips are blue.” Three steps had him at the cabinets, yanking them open to grab a sealed bag. Those large hands ripped open the bag and yanked out two wool blankets. “Take your clothes off.”
“No.” It came out on a croak. How insulting. He’d been tracking her, easily keeping her in sight. So much for getting to freedom. “We need to run. If you’re here…they’re coming.”
He wiped his forehead with his arm. “No, they’re not.”
Her mind spun. If they weren’t coming—they were dead. “You killed four of them?” She backed away, knees hitting the cot. Her teeth chattered and she clenched her lips together. How had he survived? “What the hell are you?”
“A damn good fighter.” One broad hand ripped his wet shirt over his head to hang on a nail. “We’ll wait the storm out—but you need to warm up.”
A good enough fighter to kill four deadly monsters? That good of a fighter didn’t exist. Neither did absolutely perfect, harder than granite, sculpted male chests. Oh she wished he’d put his shirt back on. The breath heated in her lungs. “No.”
“No to what?”
“No to you beating the Kurjans. No to there being Kurjans. No to taking off clothes. No to it all.” Hysteria had her vision blurring.
“Stay calm, sweetheart.” He moved toward her, slow and steady. Like an animal stalking prey. Except he looked more like a mountain than an animal. Not one of those rolling hills from home…but a real mountain. Jagged and wild—yet solid with the earth. Unmovable.
Instinct had her raising her fists, preparing to fight.
He stopped cold. Those eyes warmed and he cocked his head to the side. “Honey, take your thumbs out of your closed fists.”