Moonlight Kin 4: Tristan by Jordan Summers Page A

afternoon light, making him
appear even more ethereal. His head lifted and he inhaled deeply,
taking in the scents from various directions. When he finished, his
shoulders relaxed, but Tristan’s expression remained impassive as
he came back inside.
    A water droplet slipped down the center of
his chest then glided over the ridges of his abdomen before seeping
into the towel around his hips. Izzy licked her lips, suddenly
thirsty.
    It took her a moment to pick up on the
silence. When she did, Izzy glanced up. Tristan’s body was rigid.
He didn’t appear to be breathing at all. The heat in his mercury
eyes looked hot enough to melt steel.
    Izzy cleared her throat. “You should probably
get dressed,” she said.
    Tristan took a step forward. “Who were you
talking to, Isabel?” She’d lied when he’d asked her the first time,
but he didn’t know why. He couldn’t sense anyone nearby, but that
didn’t mean they weren’t there. When you were dealing with magic,
you couldn’t be too careful.
    The heat from her body increased as he closed
the distance between them. So did his. Isabel shouldn’t look at him
like she wanted to eat him up. She shouldn’t be admiring his
appearance at all. But she had been. There was no mistaking the
hunger in her gaze or the longing.
    Tristan crowded her until she backed against
the front door. The pulse jumped in her neck. He slapped his hands
down beside her head, caging her. If she weren’t human, he would
strip her and take her right here. But she was.
    His chest brushed hers. Tristan felt her
nipples pebble just like they had last night when he’d kissed her.
Isabel’s rich scent grew stronger. He wanted to roll in it—or at
least his wolf did. His nostrils flared. Her desire wrapped around
him, hardening every inch of his body.
    “Tell me the truth,” he said. He made sure
they continued to touch, even though it was sheer torture.
    Tristan had meant to intimidate her into
telling the truth. He had always been good at holding himself
separate from his duties, but Isabel’s sweet citrusy scent was
doing strange things to his head.
    She glared at him. “I was talking to myself.
Okay?” Isabel put her hands on his chest and pushed, but she didn’t
put much power behind the move. Instead, her fingers lingered on
his hot skin and stroked across his pecs.
    Tristan quivered. Did she realize what she
was doing? He wasn’t sure, until she did it again.
    Isabel’s eyes widened in surprise as his body
responded to her caress. The woman was playing with fire. Her hands
moved over to his arms, encircling his biceps.
    It wouldn’t take much effort to rip the
clothes off her. Even now, Tristan tried to work out the easiest
way to bare her.
    She stroked the length of his arm.
    Tristan froze, torn between wanting more and
moving out of reach. It had been a long time since he’d taken a
woman to his bed. Too long, given his state of arousal from a
simple touch. Maybe later he’d go out and find a willing she-wolf
to take the edge off.
    “What are you doing?” he asked.
    Isabel’s mouth opened then closed. “I don’t
know. I just couldn’t stop myself.”
    That was the truth. Tristan didn’t need his
wolf to know it. “If you keep touching me like that, you’re going
to end up flat on your back in that bed,” he said.
    Isabel yanked her hand back as if she’d been
burned.
    Tristan told himself that he wasn’t
disappointed, but the damn ache in the middle of his chest told a
different story.
     
    * * * * *
     

Chapter Seven
     
    Izzy had managed to distract him—and herself.
She had no idea how long it would last. Tristan struck her as the
tenacious type. Why had she touched him?
    Sure, when he wasn’t scowling, Tristan was
quite handsome in a god-like way. Not all women went for that type
of guy. She glanced at his bare chest and wide shoulders. Okay,
only someone blind wouldn’t notice all those muscles.
    When he’d cornered her, she hadn’t been able
to see anything