“You kissed me once to prove a point,” he said. “Then you kissed me again to honor a rodent religious ritual.”

“It was the only way to make them stop celebrating,” I protested.

“Indeed.” Looking at me thoughtfully, he asked, “What would it take to get you to kiss me a third time, do you think?”

My heart didn’t literally stop, but for a moment, it sure as hell felt like it had. I coughed a little, getting my cardiac rhythm back on track, and managed to say, “Well, I guess you kissing me once might be a decent way to start.”

“And after that?”

“Well, after that, I’d say the odds of my kissing you again would go way, way up.” Suddenly, the brown paper sack didn’t seem like nearly enough of a barrier between us. In medieval times, unmarried couples had to sleep with a sword between them to make sure they wouldn’t get up to any funny business. About half of me wished I’d followed their example. The other half was joining the mice in cheering wildly. I gasped. “Oh, God, the mice!”

“What—?” Dominic stared after me, bewildered, as I grabbed the sack, jumped to my feet, and ran to the bedroom door.

“Bedroom privileges have been revoked for the remainder of the evening!” I shouted, chucking the chicken bag into the middle of the hallway, where it was immediately besieged on all sides by tiny, furry bodies. “I invoke the Sacred Law of Food for Privacy! Feast, and leave me alone!”

I slammed the door just in time to mute the cheering. Turning back to Dominic, I asked, “So, what were we talking about again?”

“I believe we had just reached the point of deciding that it was my move,” he said, and stood, taking two long steps forward to my position. Cupping his hands around the sides of my face, he tilted my head up toward him, bent forward, and kissed me soundly.

Sixteen

“Something about those Covenant boys—mmm. Maybe it’s the trousers. Takes a certain class of man to carry off trousers cut to hide that many weapons, and I always find myself lost in thoughts of getting those trousers off them.”

–Enid Healy

The mouse-free bedroom of a semilegal sublet in Greenwich Village

IF I’D THOUGHT DOMINIC’S kisses in the alley were urgent, they were nothing compared to the five-alarm fire motivating him now. He kissed me like all the oxygen was running out of the room, and the only way for either of us to survive was to learn how to manage on a single person’s breath. I wasn’t worried about him hurting me—with my training, that sort of concern is generally oriented in the other direction—but the knowledge that he was one of the few men I’d ever met who could take me in a fight was enough to make my knees go weak. I matched his five-alarm fire with one of my own, feeling the answering tension in his wrists as he tugged me closer to him.

When he dropped his hands from my face and pulled his own face away, it was like he’d just announced that they were canceling Christmas. My eyes, which I didn’t remember closing, flew open, and I gave him a disappointed look, asking, “Did I do something wrong?”

“Did you—God, woman.” He laughed, mumbling something in Italian. It sounded like it was directed at himself, so I decided not to take offense; I just kept making puppy-dog eyes at him, waiting for him to tell me what was wrong. “You are the most insane, insufferable, infuriating excuse for a female that I have ever met.”

“Well, yeah,” I said, blinking. “You knew that before you brought me chicken. Are you mad that I gave your chicken to the mice? Do I need to get more chicken before you’ll start kissing me again? Because I can go and buy more chicken if you’ll just promise to wait he—” He cut my protests off with another kiss. I’ve never much cared for being interrupted, but if all the interruptions were going to be of this caliber, I could probably learn to live with it.

Since Dominic’s hands weren’t setting the terms of our dance anymore, I stepped closer, leaving no space for air between us as I pressed myself against his chest. His arms went around my waist, reeling me in, and I gladly let my heels leave the floor. This kiss wasn’t as urgent. It didn’t need to be. It went on and on, until I began to wonder if it was possible to spontaneously combust just from kissing.

Dominic turned his head abruptly to the side, but didn’t let me go. “This is … I shouldn’t be…”

“Oh, you should.” I nodded vigorously, sliding my hands down the planes of his shoulders, feeling the interplay of the muscles there. He was muscled almost like a dancer, all long, hard sinew and corded strength. A lifetime of training to fight for your life will do wonders for the physique. “You really, really should. It’s actually recommended for solo Covenant agents on their first trip to North America. See the sights, stalk the locals, sleep with a Price girl.”

“You infuriating creature,” he breathed, somehow turning the words into something verging on an endearment. He turned back to face me, letting me see the barely-restrained hunger in his dark brown eyes. He was looking at me the way the mice look at cake on a feasting day; like devouring me wouldn’t just be a pleasure, it would be a holy ritual. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing?”

“I do,” I said, and leaned forward to place a kiss on his chin before he had the chance to pull away. “I am an adult, and you are an adult, and I am doing my damnedest to seduce you right now, or to convince you that it’s worth the trouble of seducing me. Dealer’s choice. Just don’t tease me.”

He barked a short, sharp laugh. “Tease you? Me, tease you? I’m not the one who runs across this city’s rooftops wearing a skirt barely deserving of the name, or fights like it was some sort of ballet routine.”

“My grand jeté kills ’em back on the farm,” I said solemnly. Then he was kissing me again, arms pulling me into his chest until there really wasn’t any room between us, not for hesitation, not for anything. The pressure of my thigh holster digging into my skin was just a delicious reminder of how close we really were, how close I was to feeling his body moving naked against mine, and, oh, God, if the Covenant taught all their field agents to kiss like this, it was a wonder they ever made it from the bedroom to the battlefield in the first place.

Dominic gave a small growl of frustration as he realized that he couldn’t possibly get me any closer to him. Not changing his grip on my waist at all, he lifted me off the ground, turning toward the bed. A lifetime spent learning how to negotiate difficult lifts with a partner made my next motion automatic, as I brought my legs up and wrapped them around his waist, eking out another half inch of closeness even as he was turning us toward the bed. Through the haze of rising hormones and distractingly searing kisses, the small part of my brain that was still on duty managed to identify two throwing knives and a strapped-on vial of what was probably more holy water. That just made me kiss him with more fervency. There’s nothing in this world sexier than a man who comes prepared.