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You must be 18 or older to read the following excerpt.
(lightly edited to avoid spoilers):
“Dinner?” Jasper held out a hand. Svetlana recognized his imperious gesture. Jasper was in the process of closing himself off. He, like the other Department heads, kept apart from other Talents. Nobody knew for sure what kind of Talents they were, but Cristos had been married once; his stepson still worked for the Department. Jasper had nobody, no known long-lasting affections.
They went through to the elegant dining room, already set for dinner, candles flickering in the sconces.
“You were attracted to Berthier once?” Jasper lifted a glass of claret to his lips. She watched him drink, fascinated by his sinfully curved lips.
Svetlana shrugged and took a mouthful of pommes dauphinoise, chewing slowly while she considered her response. She swallowed. “He’s good-looking, a man of taste and intelligence. His wife is a demanding bitch. They deserve each other. Berthier takes and discards women like paper tissues. I don’t doubt I’d have served the same purpose.” The kind of man she could handle, unlike the one sitting opposite her.
Jasper nodded and gazed down at his plate. “Is there something wrong with the food? It came from my usual service, which is generally reliable, but it seems to taste of very little tonight.”
Svetlana forced herself to lift a morsel to her mouth and concentrate on tasting. This was the first real meal she’d had all week, so she should really have more appetite. “It’s fine. Better than fine.”
He considered his plate, his head tilted to one side, his invariable habit when thinking about something. “Perhaps I’m not in the mood for it.” He shoved his plate aside and reached for his glass. “It gives me pleasure to see you eat, though. So many models never eat at all.” He toasted her, lifting his glass. His lips quirked in a smile though the look in his eyes remained distant. “I’ll design for real women. With curves.”
“Isn’t that more difficult?”
He shrugged and tilted his chin up in an arrogant gesture. “I am Jasper Lebec. I can do it. It’s true that breasts disturb a drape or break up a sweep of pattern, but I’ll make breasts fashionable if I can.”
She forced another mouthful down. “So why do you think many women have breast augmentations?”
“A different market. Less refined.” His gaze sharpened. “You haven’t had such an abomination, have you?”
She laughed. “No. You’d have noticed, in any case.”
He put his empty glass down on the fine linen tablecloth. “So I would. I see you naked several times every season. But it’s just business. In the atelier, you’re another shape to challenge me, that’s all.” He opened his mouth but closed it again without saying anything. Abruptly he got up from the table and tossed his crumpled napkin down by his plate. “Would you like some dessert? It’s something with raspberries, I believe.”
Svetlana recognized the gesture; Jasper was getting too close to revealing his true feelings, so he changed the subject and broke eye contact. Her naked body disturbed him, did it? Was it that, or the thought of her stripping for Hugo Berthier? Tough shit. He was sending here there, after all so he’d have to suck it up. “I don’t want any dessert. You’ll have to take my word for it, Jasper. I don’t starve myself; I’m just not hungry tonight.” She couldn’t take any more.
She had to leave. She wanted Jasper so much; her pussy was wet and ready for him already, dampening her panties under the severe blue skirt. Her thoughts were too disturbing, too close to the surface, and Jasper’s powerful Talent would discern them before too long if she didn’t leave now.
“Too late,” he murmured, so quietly she had to strain to hear him. He turned around to face her.
The expression in his silver eyes was nothing like she was used to. Hot, passionate, and desirous. Needy. He spoke to her, in words throbbing with sincerity. “I want you so much, it burns me every time I look at you.” He paused, and she stared back, stunned. “What, you can’t take the truth? Shall I send for your car?”
She shook her head. “Why, Jasper?”
“Why what? Why do I want you? God knows.”
“Jasper?” If they wanted each other, if he’d wanted her all this time she’d wanted him, why hadn’t he said anything? Was he afraid of commitment, perhaps? She had no idea. She couldn’t read him unless he let her in, and his face remained impassive apart from the fire in his eyes.
He lifted his hand, only to drop it again, the movement jerky, so unlike his usual elegant, considered gestures. “Every time I look at you, I want you with a despair that eats at my soul.”
“Why haven’t you come to me before?” She wasn’t hearing this; she couldn’t be.
He shook his head. “Too many reasons. But, Svetlana, we can have tonight.”
Temporarily bereft of words, she stared at him.
“Tomorrow you begin an assignment I’m still not sure I should give to you. Times are desperate, but I won’t send any of my agents into a situation they can’t handle. You won’t let me read you; you’ve kept your barriers hard up against me, and I won’t force it.”
“You could,” she said, like him, in English.
“Yes. But I won’t. So tell me and be honest. Do you want this assignment? Should I send someone else?”
She met his gaze frankly, needing to match honesty with honesty. “Read me, Jasper. Learn the truth.” He shook his head, watching her, his eyes wary. “Then I’ll tell you. No, I don’t want it, but yes, I can do it. And Berthier has the hots for me. You made sure of that by throwing me in his way every opportunity you had. I’m the best person for the job.”
“You’re right.” He swallowed, his throat pale against the mandarin collar of his black jacket. “But I don’t want you to do it. Nothing about this assignment feels good. But if you take it, we can have this.”
“So you’re giving me one night of bliss before snatching it away?” Anger, never far distant when she dealt with Jasper, swelled within her.
“It has to be. Understand that, Svetlana. If we take tonight, we can’t have anything else.” He stayed where he was but turned his hand, palm up and held it out to her. “Neither of us can think straight for this desire we have for each other. It’s a physical thing, no more. Maybe it’s an inconvenience we can rid ourselves of tonight. Can you do that?”
Could she? Take this and work out her obsession with Jasper Lebec in one night? She had to try, or she’d go mad.
Svetlana took the step that separated them and put her hand in his. His warmth surprised her. He usually felt so cold when he touched her, but now his heat enveloped her.
Now it was his turn.
He moved with a fluidity that shocked her, releasing her hand only to wrap his arms about her and take her lips in a welcome kiss.
Earlier in the day, Jasper’s kiss had been punishingly savage, but this time he parted her lips with his tongue to stroke and seduce, taking her more thoroughly with that one kiss than anyone had ever done before with his whole body. His tongue caressed hers and moved on to stroke the roof of her mouth, exploring her.
Holding him like this, feeling the man under all the fine fabric and expensive tailoring made her want to rip and tear. At the thought, claws formed at the end of her fingertips, but she willed them away again, horrified. Shape-shifters sometimes involuntarily changed form when making love with someone they truly wanted and loved. She and Jasper only had tonight, so this encounter couldn’t be that. Mustn’t be that.
He tore his mouth away. His eyes challenged her, the silver gaze fierce in its intensity. “I’m told this collection is a triumph.” His one-sided smile was decidedly wry. “And I don’t care. All I could think about was you. My cock inside your body, my body next to yours, touching you from our lips to our toes and everywhere in between. Svetlana, what are you doing to me?”
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