Bab 295: Chapter Two Hundred and Ninety Five

How cliché, but damn, how true.

Because every instinct in him growled to capture, cover, take…bite. He wanted her. Wanted her to be his. As the strength and certainty of the thought echoed inside him, he neared her. Close enough to glimpse the delicate line of her jaw and the vulnerable nape of her neck. To inhale the heady, sensual musk that contained notes of roses, and warmer hints of cedarwood and amber…or maybe almond. Tonight's mission would be to discover which one. For yet another time this evening, he murmured, "Excuse me." But in this instance, he wasn't trying to escape someone. No, he wanted to snare her. Keep her. At least for the next few hours. Look at me. Turn around and look at me. The plea rebounded off his skull, and the seconds seemed to slow as she shifted, lifting her head and meeting his gaze. His gut clenched, desire slamming into him so hard he braced himself against the impact. But it still left him reeling. Left his body tense, hard.