Page 52 of Feral Possession
Marcus’s heated growl flipped butterflies in her stomach. She popped her eyes open.
Behind him, a gentleman passed with a smirk on his face. “Good evening, Lord Steele.”
“Good evening,” Marcus said over his shoulder.
She released the grip she had on his lapels. “Well, that was anticlimactic.”
Marcus’s lips curled. “We are guests here, not intruders plotting to steal valuables. It won’t seem odd to find us in the hallways.” He canted his head, an antagonistic gleam in his dark gaze. “Unless you’re that desperate for me to kiss you?”
Dove stiffened. “What? Me?” She blew a raspberry, flipping a curl off her cheek. “You wish, Steele. Kissing me would blow your mind.”
“Would it now?” Rather than pull away, he planted a hand beside her, drawing closer. His smokey campfire fragrance filled her senses. Warmth permeated the meager space between them. The edge of his hood grazed her cheek, and she peered up at his unobscured features. Sure, he was still hiding his face from the world, but Dove—he was totally letting in.
Her insides melted, and she brushed her nose against his.
“Time to get moving,” he murmured, his words like feathers brushing her skin. Then he straightened, stepping back, his thick command rolling over her.
She shivered at the loss, pushing away from the wall. “Um, right. The mission.”
“Where did you see the spirit?”
Spirit? What spirit? Oh, that spirit. Come on, get it together, Dove. “Around the next corner.” This time, she led the way, eager to put a bit of distance between them.
In the next hallway, she slowed, Marcus close behind her. There was no sign of her ghost. She chewed her lip. If this didn’t work, Marcus would be so disappointed. She turned, apology on her lips. Suddenly, her glyph lit up like the Rockefeller Christmas tree. Celestial energy smacked her across the face. Dove stumbled and grabbed her chest, gasping. The freaking ghost had plowed through her.
Marcus cupped her elbows. “What’s wrong?”
“Now, that was just rude.” Nausea twisted her stomach. “He’s here. This way,” she whispered, trailing behind the spirit.
Same as before, the guard strode down the hallway, focused on his task, seeing nothing. All she’d have to do was peek over his shoulder and they’d have the code.
“Marcus,” said a female voice from the end of the hall. Dove’s heart skipped. Of all the rotten, no good timing. She fought the urge to stomp her foot.
The dark-haired viper sauntered toward them, hips swishing in a form-fitting dress.
“Carina,” Marcus said.
“Lucky me, bumping into you this way.” She spoke to Marcus as though Dove didn’t exist.
“I’m surprised to see you here.” Marcus’s tone was less than friendly. “I’d heard my uncle left the island early this morning.”
Carina fluttered a hand, oblivious to his disinterest. “You know how he is. Called away on urgent business. Work, work, work. Fortunately, he’s abandoned me in this beautiful resort. Left me all alone.”
Dove rolled her eyes. Lame. Worst pickup line ever.
“I’m sure you won’t be alone for long. Now, if you’ll excuse—”
Carina set her hand on his chest, sidling closer. Her manner seductive. “I was just headed back to my room to have a nightcap. Perhaps you’d like to join me?”
Dove jiggled her leg. Their ghost was almost at the security door. She angled her body between the two vampires. Though it killed her, she said, “You should go, Marcus. Have a drink. I’ll be fine here on my own.”
Both Marcus and Carina glared at her.
Dove patted Marcus’s shoulder. “Go on now, you crazy kids. Time’s a wasting. You’re only immortal once.”
Carina turned to Marcus. “It has a point.”
And they were back to the it thing. Dove wiggled her brows at Marcus and nudged her head toward the hallway. They needed Carina gone. Now.