Atlantis Redeemed by Alyssa Day

was about to do.
    Final answer time, Tiernan. Stay or go.
    He looked up at her, the lines in his face deepening as if he could hear her thoughts and expected her to run. She’d never seen so much anguish on anyone’s face.
    “I will never harm you. I would die first,” he said, and again she felt the pure, musical truth of it surrounding her, wrapping her in a sensual haze that belied the stark words. The sheer power of that truth persuaded her.
    “I know you believe that. For now, it’s enough. We need each other, so let’s figure out how to stop these scientists. Together.”
    “Together,” he repeated, and then a smile of such dazzling male beauty spread across his face that she almost reconsidered her decision. He was far too dangerously seductive to be trusted. Or was it herself she didn’t trust? Gorgeous, humanity-protecting warriors with tortured pasts were suddenly her thing?
    Apparently so. She crossed the room and handed him the washcloth. “Clean that scrape, and then we’ll bandage it. We should probably figure out a story for when someone asks—”
    He took the cloth from her, and when his fingers touched her hand, an almost electrical shock sizzled through her nerve endings, causing her to gasp a little and yank her hand back. He lifted his head, his eyes narrowing, and again she had that disconcerting sense of a predator catching the scent of his prey.
    “I’m not,” she said suddenly, wiping her damp hand on her jeans. “Your prey, that is.”
    “So it would seem. Perhaps I am yours.” His deep voice held an undercurrent of amusement, although his expression was still bleak. He rose to his feet and she caught her breath, realizing all over again just how big he was. How much pure masculine strength was leashed in that tall, muscled body. She was taking a big risk trusting him.
    “I will earn your trust,” he said, holding out his wounded hand, palm up.
    She was instantly suspicious to hear her thoughts reflected back at her. “Can you read my mind?”
    “No, but your face is a mirror to your thoughts at times, Tiernan Butler.” He studied her, as if trying to memorize her features. “I had not realized you were so very beautiful.”
    She felt her cheeks heating again and busied herself with the antibacterial ointment and bandage, trying to touch the actual skin of his hand as little as possible. Trying not to notice how his hands were as large and masculine and elegant as the rest of him. He smelled deliciously male, with a hint of salt and sea mixed in, and she inexplicably wanted to wrap herself up in his scent and roll around like a kitten with fresh catnip.
    She forced herself to focus on the task, fastened the bandage, and went to wash her hands and discard the wrappings. He followed her across the room and leaned against the doorway, arms folded over his chest, watching every move she made.
    “You’re all set. Now, what is the plan? I know you’ve got a cover story in place as some kind of rich benefactor, but Rick didn’t—”
    The phone rang again, cutting her off mid-sentence at the same time that someone pounded on the door of the room. She stuffed the first-aid items in the top of her open backpack, pulled out her cell phone, saw that it was Rick again, clicked it to voice mail, and headed for the door. Before she could reach it, Brennan was suddenly standing in front of her, a deadly stillness in his posture. He was so fast she hadn’t even seen him move.
    “We still must discuss who dared to hurt you,” he said, skimming her neck with one finger, scorching a trail of heat across her skin. “And then he will die. If I am very lucky, this will be him now.”
    Brennan jerked the door open, and a man standing on the other side practically fell into the room. He’d clearly been eavesdropping. Tiernan managed to uncurl her lip into a polite smile before he recovered his balance, but he offered up in response only an officious sniff that matched his neatly pressed