make of it. Wasn’t sure what to make of her .
She was prickly enough to slap down an entire room full of interested men, yet had melted like warm honey the first time he’d touched her.
She was honest enough to strive for her own satisfaction, but at the same time gave so much pleasure that he had nearly drowned in it—drowned in her—throughout the long night.
She hadn’t been afraid of a confrontation, hadn’t been afraid to bully him out of his bad mood, but had also held him more tenderly than anyone ever had.
Jazz was a puzzle, a strange amalgamation of parts and emotions that shouldn’t fit yet somehow did. Adventurous and sweet, brave and sexy, confrontational and so confident that it bordered on arrogance, she was everything and nothing like what he wanted in a woman.
Not that he was looking for a woman right now, he told himself hastily. His plate was more than full without adding the extra complication of trying to turn a one-night stand into a relationship.
And yet he wasn’t quite ready to say good-bye to her, either. He wanted to take her out for breakfast and watch as she glutted herself on food that he had provided. He wanted to hold her, to kiss her, to make love to her one more time before they parted for good. And, more than anything else, he wanted to make her smile once more.
He would take that smile, hold on to it and use it to get him through the bad times that were bearing down on him—and his clan—with the power and destructive force of a twenty-foot tsunami.
As soon as that thought invaded his head, others quickly followed—ones that were nowhere near as pleasant as his fantasies about getting Jasmine naked for one last round.
Once the pain of his losses caught up to him, as well as his worries about the future of the Dragonstars, they crowded in on him, ripping away his satisfaction and replacing it with the ever-present guilt.
How could he have just flown off like that? What were they doing for Michael? Had his funeral already been arranged? As his brother, that job fell to Quinn, but it would be just like Dylan to take it on if he thought Quinn couldn’t handle it.
He closed his eyes again as the reality of his brother’s death hit him like a one-two punch to the gut. Instinctively, he reached across the bed, searching for Jazz, though he knew she had already gotten up. But her side of the bed was still warm and fragrant, so he rolled over onto it and tried to absorb the very essence of it—of her—into himself. He wasn’t sure what that woman had done to him last night, but whatever her powers, she had turned him inside out.
Because even as the worry and the pain converged, even as he started wondering what turmoil his absence had caused back home in the lab, it was as if he were buffered. It was as if there was a barrier between him and the emotional maelstrom he’d found himself locked in these last few days, weeks. The time he’d spent with Jazz had made everything, if not all right, at least more bearable than it had been twenty-four hours before.
The mere idea that a woman—a human woman—could have such an effect on him should have set off every warning bell he had, but it didn’t. Nor did the beast snoozing within him seem alarmed.
Glancing around, he noted that the door to the bathroom was closed, though there was no sign that anyone was in there. No sound, no movement, no heat signature for the dragon to pick up. The room around him was silent, the only noise the hum of the air conditioner and the steady beating of his heart. Outside he could hear the rumble of cars as they pulled out of the parking lot in a fairly steady stream.
Stretching lazily, he climbed out of bed and pulled on his jeans. He wasn’t worried about waking alone. He figured Jazz had gone down to her car for some clean clothes. After all, he hadn’t gotten around to changing her tire yet.
He grinned at the thought, looking forward to doing something small to pay her back for the
She was prickly enough to slap down an entire room full of interested men, yet had melted like warm honey the first time he’d touched her.
She was honest enough to strive for her own satisfaction, but at the same time gave so much pleasure that he had nearly drowned in it—drowned in her—throughout the long night.
She hadn’t been afraid of a confrontation, hadn’t been afraid to bully him out of his bad mood, but had also held him more tenderly than anyone ever had.
Jazz was a puzzle, a strange amalgamation of parts and emotions that shouldn’t fit yet somehow did. Adventurous and sweet, brave and sexy, confrontational and so confident that it bordered on arrogance, she was everything and nothing like what he wanted in a woman.
Not that he was looking for a woman right now, he told himself hastily. His plate was more than full without adding the extra complication of trying to turn a one-night stand into a relationship.
And yet he wasn’t quite ready to say good-bye to her, either. He wanted to take her out for breakfast and watch as she glutted herself on food that he had provided. He wanted to hold her, to kiss her, to make love to her one more time before they parted for good. And, more than anything else, he wanted to make her smile once more.
He would take that smile, hold on to it and use it to get him through the bad times that were bearing down on him—and his clan—with the power and destructive force of a twenty-foot tsunami.
As soon as that thought invaded his head, others quickly followed—ones that were nowhere near as pleasant as his fantasies about getting Jasmine naked for one last round.
Once the pain of his losses caught up to him, as well as his worries about the future of the Dragonstars, they crowded in on him, ripping away his satisfaction and replacing it with the ever-present guilt.
How could he have just flown off like that? What were they doing for Michael? Had his funeral already been arranged? As his brother, that job fell to Quinn, but it would be just like Dylan to take it on if he thought Quinn couldn’t handle it.
He closed his eyes again as the reality of his brother’s death hit him like a one-two punch to the gut. Instinctively, he reached across the bed, searching for Jazz, though he knew she had already gotten up. But her side of the bed was still warm and fragrant, so he rolled over onto it and tried to absorb the very essence of it—of her—into himself. He wasn’t sure what that woman had done to him last night, but whatever her powers, she had turned him inside out.
Because even as the worry and the pain converged, even as he started wondering what turmoil his absence had caused back home in the lab, it was as if he were buffered. It was as if there was a barrier between him and the emotional maelstrom he’d found himself locked in these last few days, weeks. The time he’d spent with Jazz had made everything, if not all right, at least more bearable than it had been twenty-four hours before.
The mere idea that a woman—a human woman—could have such an effect on him should have set off every warning bell he had, but it didn’t. Nor did the beast snoozing within him seem alarmed.
Glancing around, he noted that the door to the bathroom was closed, though there was no sign that anyone was in there. No sound, no movement, no heat signature for the dragon to pick up. The room around him was silent, the only noise the hum of the air conditioner and the steady beating of his heart. Outside he could hear the rumble of cars as they pulled out of the parking lot in a fairly steady stream.
Stretching lazily, he climbed out of bed and pulled on his jeans. He wasn’t worried about waking alone. He figured Jazz had gone down to her car for some clean clothes. After all, he hadn’t gotten around to changing her tire yet.
He grinned at the thought, looking forward to doing something small to pay her back for the
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