Beyond Shadows

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An Excerpt From: BEYOND SHADOWS

Copyright © N.J. WALTERS, 2008

All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

The beach house wasn´t isolated. Jac had neighbors, but the surrounding homes weren´t too close, their lights barely visible in the darkness of the night. There was no one around outside, but was Jac inside?

His feet making no sound on the wooden deck, he made his way to the patio door. It was locked, but no deterrent for him. Within seconds he was sliding the glass door open and slipping inside. He automatically glided into the shadows, listening intently.

The steady plink of a leaky faucet and the creaks and groans of the wooden structure in the wind were all he heard. The kitchen was spartan-a small stove and refrigerator, a tiny counter, a sink with a window above it with an ocean view and an adequate amount of cupboards. The smell of lemons and basil wafted past him.

He caught it then, the lightest sound of a moan. His feet were moving before he even willed them to, carrying him toward the living room. A faded blue sofa, a wooden rocking chair and a recliner filled the room. A scarred wooden coffee table sat in front of the sofa, magazines and papers scattered over it.

Her scent reached him before he saw her-a faint smell of vanilla and honey that had his body hardening. That stopped him cold. He hadn´t had an erection in-he paused to think-hundreds of years. Glancing down, he stared at the bulge in the front of his leather pants. There was no mistaking his obvious arousal or the heavy pumping of blood through his veins.

Anticipation thrummed through him.

What manner of woman was Jacqueline Harris that she could affect him this way without his ever seeing her? He scowled, disliking the implications. He was a man, a trained warrior, not a boy who could not contain his passions. His job was to protect her, not to bed her. Still, his heart pounded as he rounded the sofa and looked down upon the woman who had brought him here.

She was huddled beneath a thin blanket, shivering. Blade frowned, angered that she should be cold. Shaking his head at his wayward thoughts, he studied her. It didn´t matter that she was cold, only that she was alive. The red blanket was pulled up to her chin, but her face was uncovered. Even with only the faint light of the moon streaming through the window, he could see her features perfectly.

Her skin was pale and as fine as porcelain. She had prominent cheekbones, her chin was more pointed than rounded, and her nose had a slight tilt to it. She wasn´t beautiful, not in the classical sense, but Blade couldn´t tear his gaze away. Her lips parted on a sigh and he was gripped by the need to know what they tasted like. They were full and ripe, begging to be nipped and licked and kissed. Her lashes were long, brushing her high cheekbones. He wondered what color they were.

It was easy to see the resemblance between Jac and her sister. Their coloring and facial features were almost identical. But where Jo did nothing for him, save whet his curiosity, Jac stirred his primal sexual interest. He felt all his primitive instincts spring to life within him.

He reached down to adjust his cock, which was pressed hard against the front of his pants, but it didn´t help. He was hard and throbbing as blood surged to that part of his body. A roar filled his head like a rushing waterfall, demanding he claim this woman as his own. It would be so easy to pull the cover away and strip her clothing from her.

He closed his eyes and sucked in a slow, deep breath. It didn´t help. Every cell in his body screamed for this woman, proclaiming that she belonged to him. She moaned again and his eyes popped open.

Her hand came out from beneath the blanket.

Fury raced through him like a freight train. Her right wrist and lower arm was encased in white plaster that wrapped around her palm but left her fingers and thumb bare. Someone had hurt her. A low growl sprang from deep within him. Whoever was responsible would pay.

No one hurt his woman and lived.

Using every ounce of discipline he had, he pulled his emotions back under control. Now was not the time. Her safety came above all else. It was the hardest thing he´d ever done, but he managed to subdue the primal urges surging through him. Calm, cold and calculating, settled over him.

He was named not only for his love of knives, but because he had the ability to be as swift, silent and deadly as his weapon of choice. Like a blade, he was sharp, cold and unhindered by emotion. No one had ever shaken that control before today.

Blade didn´t like this change but he accepted that it was so. Acknowledging that fact was the only way to deal with the situation and not allow it to hinder the job at hand.

Her eyes fluttered open and he had the answer to his question. They were gray, but not the cool, flinty gray that her sister had. Jac´s eyes were a soft, smoky gray that a man could easily lose himself in. Those eyes widened and her soft lips parted.

Then she screamed.