Page 11 of Wicked Ways

A nod was her only reply because Miranda didn’t trust herself to speak.

“Things aren’t ending here. They’re just starting.” Cain’s golden eyes raked down her body and she saw the lust that flared in his gaze. “And you should know that I always finish what I start.”

Good to know. Her heart was drumming too hard and way too fast against her chest. Her fingers clamped over the edge of the countertop. The urge to reach out to him was strong, but now wasn’t the time.

Not yet.

“Get some sleep.” He turned toward the door, hesitated. “If you need me⁠—”

Oh, but she did.

“—for anything, I’m just down the hallway.”

He’d be waiting in bed.

She exhaled heavily.

Then he was gone and Miranda was left alone with the hunger he’d stirred within her.

* * *

Fantasies of Miranda haunted him as Cain tossed in bed. Her scent seemed to reach out to him. To tempt him. The sweet, tantalizing scent of honeysuckle that was pure Miranda.

He’d had her within his grasp. Moaning. Twisting against him. Breasts close enough to kiss. Sex close enough to touch.

And he’d let her go.

With his eyes still closed, Cain reached out and caught the sheets in his hands. A faint ripping filled the air and he swore, knowing that his claws had slashed the fabric.

But his control was weak. Because she was so close. And because despite the performance he’d given earlier, he sure wasn’t a gentleman.

He was much more of a taker, and he definitely wanted to take Miranda.

The perfume of honeysuckle and woman grew stronger in the air. Cain tensed.

Then he heard the soft creak of the wooden floor.

She was coming to him.

He’d tossed and turned for hours thinking of her, caught in a world of fantasies and feverish dreams, and she was coming to him.

His eyes opened. He could see her perfectly even in the darkness of the room. She stood silhouetted in the doorway, clad in one of his oversized white T-shirts. Her legs were bare.

That would make things infinitely easier.

“Cain?” A whisper, the sound hesitant and…afraid?

He sat up slowly, drawing in more of her scent with a deep breath.

“I have to…” A step closer. “I have to know…” More slow movements across the floor.

The bedsheets were around his hips. Hiding his arousal, for the moment.

Cain reached over and flipped on the bedside light. For her benefit, not his.

She blinked. Miranda hesitated a moment at the flood of light. Then she inched toward him, stopping at the side of the bed. Her wide eyes gazed down at him. “When you first came into my house, you looked different.”

Hell. He’d known this would come, sooner or later. Cain had just been hoping for much, much later because when she learned the full truth about him, his fantasies would die a quick death.