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throat, and lower. Her breasts rose and fell beneath her tight leather corset, the perfect swells taunted him.
    He whispered a curse in old French. Sonya was tempting. So goddamn tempting. Her eyes shimmered bright gold as she gazed up at him. And her lips, so pink, so warm and soft, they beckoned him. He knew their taste and their softness, the knowledge had haunted him ever since they had given into the madness that disguised itself as passion all those months ago. Falcon knew her creamy skin was smooth as silk. He knew that even though she was tall and slender, she had a lush body and curves that would bring any man to his knees.
    He stifled a groan when she wet her lips…in anticipation?
    Unable to resist, he bent his head, nuzzling her neck. Inhaling deeply, his eyes drifted closed as her lilac scent mixed with the sweet, intoxicating aroma of her arousal.
    “Falcon,” she whispered when he pressed his lips against her throat, just above her erratically beating pulse.
    Damn, this was dangerous, a game of life and death, or honor and loyalty versus desire and betrayal. Falcon knew he should step back. He had no right to touch her, to kiss her, to have her. She was a Queen and he a Black Knight. Yet, he could not bring himself to break away. The luscious heat of her body called to him, her lust assaulted his senses.
    His thumb still stroked over her lips as his free hand fell from the wall to rest upon her shoulder, pinning her in place. He flicked his tongue over her throat sending waves of pleasure crashing through her. Sonya’s eyes drifted closed, her head rolling to the side, giving him better access. Her hands came to his biceps, her nails biting into the leather of his jacket. Her hips bucked against his thigh.
    Falcon fingers massaged her shoulder then moved down her back.
    Sonya winced as he brushed passed her wound.
    The subtle sign of pain sliced through the drugging haze of need that clouded his mind.
    Falcon pulled away. Sonya fell back, flattening her palms against the wall, her claws scoring the brick as she fought her desire and the maddening urge to snatch him back.
    She blinked up at him, her golden eyes reflecting his own denied desire. Her lips were parted as she drew in rapid breaths. Her wet flaxen hair circled about her face.
    God, he was looking at Aphrodite.
    Closing his eyes, he took in a deep breath. Lilacs and lust misted the cool air that filled his lungs. There was another scent, faint but unmistakable.
    He stepped back into the storm. The chill of the rain was like a hard slap as the water cascaded over him, chasing away the warmth of her body.
    His gaze dropped to his hand. Red coated his fingers tips. Blood. Her blood. How could he have not noticed?
    “You’re injured.”
    In a flurry of movement, he spun her around and pulled down her jacket, revealing her left shoulder blade.
    “What the hell,” Sonya snapped, twisting away. Scowling she strained her clothes.
    Falcon’s hard gaze narrowed with bone chilling menace. “You’ve a bullet in your shoulder.”

 
    Chapter Three
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    “Impressive. Is this your definition of ‘laying low’?” Sonya asked as she twirled about the luxurious suite.
    Falcon kicked the door closed. “We should get that bullet—”
    She gave a dismissive wave, silencing his concern. “From a drafty cell to a glamorous, five star hotel,” she continued as she glanced over to the kitchen, complete with creamy marble counter tops and stainless appliances. The living space was enormous with vaulted ceilings. Two white sofas faced each other in the center, while a big screen TV seemed to hang independently of the wall. The picturesque window provided an unobstructed view of the city and the Thames River.
    “I needed some place I knew was secure and did not have much time to search,” he said, dropping the rain soaked duffle by the door, it land with a hard, wet thud.
    She nodded. He did not have to clarify that he