Magic Unchained by Jessica Andersen Page B

untrue—coyote or not, he was a better man than that—but because she suddenly realized she had somehow fallen into
winikin
mode. She was soothing him when she really wanted to grab him by the collar and shake him until his perfect teeth rattled. But that was even worse, because it shouldn’t matter to her. He wasn’t her charge, wasn’t her responsibility, and he sure as hell wasn’t someone she should be wanting to make promises to her.
    This was a mistake. She should’ve left the wieners andSkittles in the hall, then knocked and bolted like it was some sort of apologetic practical joke.
    Before she could make an excuse and escape, though, he said, “The main thing I’ve figured out is that since I can’t change who I am, the best I can do is apologize and try my damnedest not to hurt anyone else.” He paused, then reached out to her. “I’m sorry for not being there when you needed me, Cara. Please forgive me.”
    She hesitated, torn by the part of her that still thought he could’ve gone against his nature if he’d truly wanted to. But in the end it didn’t matter, did it? She was getting the apology she’d never expected, the one she’d told herself not to need. So she took his hand. “Apology accepted. And thank you.”
    She’d meant to shake on it, but before she could make the move, he lifted their joined hands and pressed his lips to her knuckles. And although he’d probably meant it as a more-than-a-handshake gesture, it became far more than that in the moment his lips touched her skin.
    Heat seared from the point of contact, racing inward, tightening her chest and stealing her oxygen. Her head spun as all her perceptions suddenly focused on the pressure of his fingers, the soft warmth of his mouth, and the startlement in his eyes as they flew to hers and then darkened, letting her know that she wasn’t the only one feeling the unexpected sizzle.
    “Don’t,” she said. Her voice was little more than a whisper, and she wasn’t really sure which one of them she was talking to.
    “I won’t. I’m not. I didn’t mean… Shit. I’m sorry.” But although he lowered their hands, he didn’t let go. Instead he tugged her closer, so she was standing in thevee of his legs, near enough that she could feel the heat from his body.
    If her defenses had been low before, they were hell and gone now, lost beneath the sudden thunder of blood in her veins. She wanted to pull back but couldn’t make herself move; she wanted to look away but his eyes dominated her vision, drawing her in. “Sven?” she said softly, not even sure what she was asking.
    “It’s the magic,” he grated. “I used too much earlier and now I can’t… Damn it.”
    “You… Oh.” Excitement flared at the realization that she wasn’t the only one whose defenses were low. Except in his case he was trying to block the powerful, sensual magic of a full-fledged—and unmated—Nightkeeper male, the sex magic that kicked in when his other reserves were drained.
    He tightened his grip on her hand. “You should go.”
    “I know.” But she stayed put, rooted by a sudden urgency that came not from the magic, but from her earlier encounter with Zane and the little voice inside her that sometimes whispered that she was remembering it wrong, that she was looking for something that didn’t really exist outside her girlhood fantasies.
    “Seriously. You need to leave.” His free hand came up to touch her cheek and his eyes went dark and intense.
    “In a minute. First, I have a confession.” She hesitated. “I wasn’t being entirely honest earlier when I said the kiss was no big deal. It was, though not the way you were thinking. It’s more that I’ve always compared other guys to what I felt that day. But lately I’ve been wondering… what if that wasn’t that great?” Though the way her pulse was throbbing now suggested thatthe sparks had been real and, more, that the attraction had persisted despite the many times he’d