Bethany's Rite by Eve Jameson Page A

mind, pack a suitcase and hit the highway.
    But there wasn’t time. He turned his head to place a kiss on
her inner thigh, right above her Guardian, and couldn’t resist sucking that
tender flesh against his teeth and tasting it one more time.
    Bethany whispered his name and feathered her fingers through
his hair. The desire to take her in his arms, gather her close and hold her
next to his body for the next century crashed over him. So intense, it was
nearly impossible to remember that Bethany’s life was in danger and he needed
her in a place he could better protect her. And naked in her bed in an
unsecured apartment was not the best option.
    The anger at not being able to totally eliminate Enath rose
again and focused him back on his mission. “Time to get dressed.” He stood,
took her by the hands and pulled her off the bed. He held her steady until her
knees quit wobbling and he was sure she wasn’t going to sink straight to the
floor. That he had done that to her brought out an arrogant smile on his face.
    “Not much for afterglow, are you?” she asked, stepping away
from him.
    “Not with a Predator on our trail.”
    “Then why—”
    “Enath’s injuries take at least twenty-four hours to heal.
As long as you’re with me, he won’t risk coming after you until he’s at full
strength. But I’m not willing to push our window of opportunity too far.
    “Now,” he said, turning her toward the bathroom and swatting
her on the butt, “get cleaned up so we can go.”
    Bethany stopped abruptly and spun back around. “Go? Go
where?”
    “Where I can keep you safe. If you want a shower, better get
in there, because in twenty minutes, we’re leaving.”
    “I’m not going anywhere.”
    “Clock’s ticking, Bethany. I suggest you argue after your
shower.”
    Wyc headed toward the living room to gather up their clothes
while Bethany muttered unladylike curses and stomped into the bathroom. The
shower had just started when he heard her shout.
    “Oh my God! Oh. My. God!”
    The door to the bathroom crashed into the wall with the
force Wyc used to push it open. Bethany was standing outside the bathtub,
screaming at the water.
    “What? What’s wrong?” He scanned the small room. More blue
and white tile, but no threat that he could see. Unless there was a homicidal
midget hiding under the sink. She turned a horrified gaze toward him. When he
reached for her, she flinched away.
    “You didn’t use a condom. That’s what!”
    Tension rolled off his shoulders and he let out a loud
breath. “Shit, woman. Next time you scream, it better damn well be because
you’re hurt or in trouble.” He turned to leave.
    “Don’t you walk out on me. You could have gotten me
pregnant. Oh my God. I could be pregnant right now!” Bethany was shrieking by
the end of her rant.
    That she found the possibility of carrying his child so
appalling really ticked him off. Sure, it might be too soon to pick out
names—he had planned on finishing the Matching Ritual and getting her back to
Ilyria first—but never had a woman so blatantly despised the idea of having his
baby. Hell, there were dozens of women who would stand in a freezing rain for a
week to be given the chance.
    Slowly, he backed her up against the tile wall. “If getting
pregnant is such a concern of yours, why aren’t you on birth control? And not
once between your moans and your screams did you bother mentioning a condom.
And believe me, I was listening very closely.”
    Bethany’s cheeks flamed. She shifted her eyes from his and
he watched anger, guilt and panic flood her expression. Damn it all to hell. He
had a Predator on their trail, his entire team waiting for their arrival and
had just fucked this woman to within an inch of her life. But instead of
packing, leaving or fucking again, she was standing there looking like she
wanted to cry, right after she found a sharp, serrated object to ram through
his gut.
    If this was what finding your mate did to a man,