Extraits

Faith pensait que Vaughn était le sculpteur le plus doué qu’elle avait jamais vu, ses œuvres pleines de vie et vibrantes d’énergie. Il y avait juste un problème. « Je ne comprends pas comment la poussière de marbre peut complètement envahir notre espace vital alors que ton studio est dans une autre pièce. » La main qu'elle passa sur le rebord de la table devint immédiatement blanche.

Vaughn, l’or ambré de ses cheveux terni par la même poussière, lui sourit de manière purement féline. « Tu avais l’air super propre. »

« Non. Absolument pas. » Riant, elle tendit la main dans une tentative de stopper le jaguar de forme humaine qui avait commencé à la traquer, lentement et silencieusement. « Attention, Vaughn ! » Elle courut vers le sofa tandis qu’il continuait à rôder vers elle avec un intérêt non dissimulé.

An hour later—and despite the fact that she didn’t have a French maid’s outfit handy—their living space was sparkling clean, and so were they. Wrapping a towel around her body after stepping from the beautiful waterfall shower that Vaughn had built by hand, she let down the hair she’d pinned up, and turned to watch him finish rinsing off the soap on that golden-skinned body rippling with the lithe muscle of a predator.

Never, she thought, would she get enough of her mate. His touch, his scent, the sound of his voice, his laughter, his teasing, the untamed jaguar at the heart of his nature, each and every part was forever intertwined into the fabric of her life.

Stepping out, he turned off the shower and crooked a finger. It didn’t take Faith even a second’s thought to obey the sensual command; grabbing another towel, she patted him dry, her lips moving over his spine as she indulged in her need to be close to her mate. “You made that up about the coffee, didn’t you?”

Vaughn, the amber-gold of his hair dulled by the same dust, gave her a smile that was pure cat. “You look really clean.”

“No. Absolutely not.” Laughing, she held out a hand in an attempt to halt the jaguar in human form who’d begun to stalk her, slow and silent. “I mean it, Vaughn!” She ran around the sofa when he continued to prowl toward her with unhidden intent.

“What?” Pure innocence in his expression as he came to a stop. “I just wanted this datapad.”