Masters of Seduction Volume 2 (Masters of Seduction #5-8)

He leaned forward, his nose touching the tip of hers. “That was a direct order.”

 

 

She grimly held her ground. Hell, she didn’t even flinch. He was a ruthless Master who could make grown Watchmen crap their pants with one glare, but not Sloane.

 

Which was no doubt why he found her so fascinating.

 

Well, one of the thousands of reasons he found her so fascinating.

 

“I’m here to protect you,” she said between clenched teeth. “I can’t do that if you’re trying to do something stupid.”

 

Tiege knew better than to try and convince her that he didn’t want her in the line of fire. She considered it her duty to act as his guard. Besides, she clearly thrived on danger.

 

Something that was no doubt going to put him in an early grave.

 

For now, he had to offer a rational excuse.

 

“You’re a Blade,” he growled, his hand lifting so he could wrap his fingers around the teardrop gem. He sucked in a sharp breath. Lust blasted through him at the enticing warmth of her satin skin and the feel of her heart beating against his knuckles. Later, he silently promised himself. Once they were back at his private villa he intended to take her to his bed and never let her out. “And right now the most important thing in the world is that pendant. Your duty is to protect it.”

 

She drew in a quivering breath. “Tiege.”

 

Angling his head to the side, Tiege brought a sharp end to her protest by the simple process of capturing her lips in a kiss of sheer possession. She stiffened, her hands lifting to grasp his shoulders. But even as he prepared for her to shove him away, she gave a soft sigh and melted against his chest.

 

Briefly allowing himself to savor the sensation of drowning in sweet honeysuckle, Tiege at last pulled back to give her a gentle push toward her open door.

 

Dammit.

 

“Go.”

 

Sloane wavered, clearly torn between the realization that the pendant needed to be kept safe, and her instinctive need to remain at his side. Then, with a muttered curse, she leaned forward to press a fierce, far too fleeting kiss to his lips before she was jumping out of the Jeep and running straight for the airfield.

 

At a much slower pace, Tiege stepped out of the vehicle. He was weary from the ceremony, and far from his full strength. Thankfully, however, he was a Master. Which meant that a mere Watchman couldn’t hope to match his power.

 

At least that was the hope.

 

Moving forward, he released a breath of relief when the shadows stirred and two forms abruptly appeared before him. He’d depended on the fact the warriors were waiting for him instead of following Sloane, but there was no way he could be certain until now.

 

Pretending he was unaware of his companions, Tiege walked forward, not halting until a large form was suddenly standing directly in his path.

 

“Stop,” a deep voice sliced through the darkness.

 

Tiege halted, taking a quick survey of the males. Both were wearing matching camo pants and black T-shirts. Both had oversized, muscular bodies and arms tattooed with the sigil of the House of Marakel. But that’s where the similarities ended.

 

The one closest to him had long, dirty-blond hair and a bluntly carved face that gave him the appearance of a caveman. His pale blue eyes glittered with a lust for violence, and a blatant lack of intelligence. One of those “all brawn and no brain” sort of Watchmen.

 

The one who hovered in the shadows, however, had buzzed-cut hair and a lean face that held a cunning that warned he was the more dangerous of the two. He was at least smart enough to remain at a distance and use his idiot friend to keep their prey distracted.

 

Tiege folded his arms over his chest, conjuring his most obnoxiously arrogant expression.

 

It wouldn’t take much to piss off the nearest male. Which would make it that much easier to kick his ass.

 

“Who are you?” he demanded.

 

The male flexed his muscles. “Gunnar, a Watchman for the Obsidian Throne,” he said in proud tones. “I have been sent to find you.”

 

Tiege arched his brows. “Why?”

 

The male deliberately rested his hand on the hilt of the dagger that was strapped on his hip.

 

“The Sovereign believes that you have a talisman that should rightfully belong to him.”

 

Tiege swallowed a curse. It was exactly what he’d been expecting, but that didn’t prevent the stab of annoyance.

 

There was no way to keep recent events entirely secret. Already the demon world was whispering about the turmoil surrounding the Obsidian Throne and the growing suspicion that the temple was involved. But the fact that Marakel knew about the pendant and had managed to follow him to Vegas meant that someone with inside information had been sharing their secrets.

 

A traitor?

 

The mere thought was enough to make him tremble with the need to hunt down the bastard and destroy him.

 

“The Sovereign is mistaken,” he smoothly lied, waving a dismissive hand. “Now step aside.”

 

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