Jordan Summers - [Dead World 01] by Red (html)

spare.
    Another area jutted off from the
main living space. Red walked to the
doorway and ran her hand over a panel in the wall. A light came on. She could
hardly believe it. Jesse had attached a cleansing unit to the room. This gave
her an unusual amount of privacy for a public house. Water rationing had all
but done away with old-world ideas of modesty.
    Murmuring voices from below reached her sensitive
ears. Several patrons had been gathering on the first floor when she checked
in, making small talk while they waited at
the chest-high bar for Jesse to fill their supplies. Red left her room
and made her way down the stairs, hoping to
catch them before they left.
    She glanced around at the growing crowd, recognizing
a few of the people she'd passed on the street earlier. Suddenly jumping into
the fray and firing oil questions, didn't seem like such a good plan.
    Contrary to what she wished, this was not a sanctioned
investigation, only a fishing expedition. At least she had six weeks of
leave—not that she'd need them, but it meant there was no reason to hurry.
    Direct questions wouldn't work
here. One thing all boundary
towns had in common was their tight-lipped mentality. Nuria may be friendly on the surface, but
they didn't need or want help from the outside. What ever happened here stayed
here. That included wild animal
troubles—and murder.
     
    chapter
six
     
    Morgan Hunter smelled her long before he laid eyes on
her . Like a cool breeze that alleviates
intense heat, she blew into the gray dissecting unit, dispersing the odor of
disinfectant and death, leaving  the scent of lush, moist woman in her wake.
All he could do was stand there and stare, what he was about to tell Jim
Thornton completely forgotten.
    The tension in the air thickened
as his gaze locked with hers. Her
eyes shined an unusual color—greenish gold . How long had it been since an unattached female entered h is town, his territory? Morgan couldn't re member. He inhaled, closing his eyes a second as
he reached out to her with his senses. There was some thing
tantalizingly familiar about her. He nearly moaned.
    Her gaze caressed him, starting at his boots and leisurely traveling up his legs and over his chest before settling back on his face. She might as well have raked him with her claws. His cock hardened
instantly.
    Beside him, Jim Thornton
laughed, quickly muffling the sound with a cough.
    Morgan stiffened. For a moment, her lush scent and dark beauty had distracted him from the fact
that she was a tactical team member, but that moment had now passed.
    He approached her, his long legs and casual gait eating up the distance between them. She made no
at tempt to acknowledge his position in the community by bowing her head or lowering her gaze. Strange
and intriguingly alpha.
    "Can I help you?" he asked, his voice
rumbling close to a growl. Before he could
stop himself, Morgan circled her and
sniffed twice. She was beyond ripe.
    "Do you have a cold?"
she asked, following his movements with her eyes. He blinked. Why would
she think such a thing?
"No." Morgan's brow furrowed as he stopped in front of her. She hesitated, then stuck out her
hand. "My name is Gina Santiago."
    Morgan shook her hand, surprised by the calluses he
could feel etching her palm. She obviously didn't work at a desk. He released
her reluctantly, when every fiber of his being screamed to draw her close.
"Is there something I can do for you, Miz Santiago? We don't normally get much attention from the
tacti cal team. Looking for a donation? If so, I could've saved you a
trip."
    "Not hardly, but I'll keep you in mind for next
year." She smiled and Morgan's knees almost buckled. "So you're
aware of what I am."
    "Of course." Morgan
stepped closer, crowding her, Gina held
her ground, showing no signs of submi ssion.
Her inaction both surprised and pleased him. "I spotted you coming
a mile away. Even if I hadn't, half the town has called me since you
arrived." His  lips quirked.