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Authors: Karin Harlow

BOOK: Enemy Mine
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Then she felt it. He broke. His body shuddered hard; his hands dropped from the headboard, and his breath released in a wild, warm rush against her chest. In a fierce surge, he thrust high into her, nearly unseating her. Selena opened her eyes and screamed. In full fang, his eyes red, he rose up against her. He flung her onto her back and sank his cock deep into her pussy, his teeth into her neck, his fingers into her hair.
Dear Lord
—She arched high into him. Demanding more. He swiveled his hips, grinding maddeningly into her as he ravenously sucked her blood.

It was wild, erotic, crazy, and death-defying. She came in a violent rush of blistering sensation; the intensity of it threw her over the edge. She screamed again as he slammed into her, clasping him tighter to her neck, reveling in his ardent possession of her. As Nikko came inside her, his mind opened up, and what Selena saw astonished and terrified her.

CHAPTER TWELVE

N
ikko came in a wild maelstrom of pent-up passion. As his body hurtled toward release, fury and unrequited hunger barreled through him, the latter so ravenous he knew if he gave in to it, it would kill him. He did not want to surrender to Selena’s seduction. He fought it with every part of him, but in the end he was powerless to resist her call. The copper taste of blood coupled with the sultry sex scent of the woman beneath him was gasoline on his fire.

He had never been able to resist her. Even now, after what she had done to him—to his
child
—he craved her.

His soul cried foul, his brain demanded revenge, but a small, quiet part of him just wanted to be allowed to mourn. He had never mourned. Anger, hate, and revenge had filled his heart.

Yet now, even as he came inside of her, his heart mourned his daughter and the loss of the woman he had loved.

The woman beneath him.

Selena …

He felt her sorrow, her regret—her love. She
should
feel sorrow and regret. Love? She loved no one but herself.

But his instincts, coupled with his heightened senses, identified only truth. What did that mean?

Johnny
.

Nikko squeezed his eyes closed. The rage in him quieted in time with their spent bodies. He withdrew his fangs from her neck and gently licked the wounds, then moved out of her. A compulsion he could not defy made him reach down to his trousers on the floor, pull the necklace out of the front pocket, and drop it onto her belly.

But the action came with a warning:
Do not use it against me
.

Never
.

Nikko woke slowly. He swam in a deep pool, his vision hazy, his movements slow, but he rose to the light. As he surfaced, memories of the night before came crashing down around him. In fast-forward, he relived his reunion with Selena. How he had saved her. He remembered the daemon attack, swimming to her yacht, then—Jesus! He’d had one hell of a dream. They had fucked ferociously. He had—given her back her necklace. He sat up in the empty bed. Dream hell! She’d played him! And he knew she was long gone.

Quickly he dressed and ran up to the bridge to call in. As he passed through the salon, he stopped in his tracks. Under the cover of night, he had not seen the details of the interior, but now in the morning glare he saw everything—including the stuffed Minnie Mouse, sitting on a chair near the bridge door.

It was the same doll he’d bought for his unborn daughter.

Nikko’s blood drained from his face. His heart slowed to an erratic thud. A different kind of urgency filled him. One slow step at a time, he walked toward the doll. With a trembling hand, he reached out and touched it.

It was soft but worn, as if much loved by a child, as if a small hand had hugged and caressed it over the years. Emotions ruptured in his chest. A longing so powerful it hurt filled him. Had Selena kept it all these years? Did she regret what she had done? He brought the doll to his nose and inhaled. Gooseflesh erupted along his arms. The scent was not Selena’s. The doll smelled of sunshine and animal crackers. A child’s scent. Moist heat stung his eyes. Why was the doll here? Who had caressed it and infused it with its scent? Had Selena given it to another child? Or—Nikko’s entire body shook with fear, hope, despair—to the one for whom it had been intended?

The sun shines on the nuns … where it began
.

They’d begun on St. Michael’s.

Nikko’s heart shuddered to a halt. He’d thought Selena’s words as she lay in the elevator were a dying woman’s chaotic mumblings. Had finally understood why she—a daemon—would consider an island to be the safest place in the world. The safest place from other daemons.

But now, with the doll in his hands, with the desperate but real hope that perhaps the love he’d sensed in her
had
been truth—not just for him, but for their daughter—Nikko reevaluated her words.

Perhaps they hadn’t been uttered for her benefit, but for his.

Perhaps they’d been a clue. If Selena thought she was dying, perhaps it was a clue meant to lead him to their daughter.

Was it possible?

Had she—? That scar on her belly. A cesarean scar?

He felt faint. His knees wavered. Nikko sat down.

Marisol, sunny sea. They were going to name their daughter Marisol. The sunny sea. Where she was conceived in love.

The sun shines on the nuns of St. Michael’s
.

Nikko inhaled deeply and slowly exhaled, fighting the excitement welling within him. He needed to rationally think this through. Selena’s father. She’d said she meant to protect him from her father. Who else was she protecting? And what better place to hide a child from a daemon than on an island in the care of nuns?

When Selena thought she was dying, she had told him Marisol was alive and where to find her!
Holy Mother of God, his daughter was alive
.

He didn’t know if he should laugh or cry. All this time, he’d thought Selena had destroyed his daughter, when all along she was alive. Just as Selena had lived. Why? Why had she kept him from his daughter? He had a right to know her. She had a right to know him. Renewed rage erupted. Selena had played God with his life and his daughter’s life. She had no right, damn her!

He must go to St. Michael’s to see for himself if he was delusional with grief, yearning, and plain old Rev-induced psychosis, or if Marisol was alive. But Selena’s words about her father stopped him. Would he jeopardize Marisol’s safety? It looked as if he and his ex were going to have a come-to-Jesus meeting in the near future. Because Nikko was not going to stay away from his daughter. Not when he’d already lost eight years with her.

He called Godfather.

“We’ve got a lock on Noslov in Paris,” Godfather’s voice boomed triumphantly.

Though it took every ounce of restraint he possessed, Nikko forced himself to focus on his mission and not St. Michael’s Island. “Is he accessible?”

“He’s got an armed detail surrounding him, as well as the perimeter buildings. Stone and Satch are on their way along with Cassidy and Cross. I have every reason to believe they will extract him.”

“What makes you think he’ll talk once we have him?”

“We aren’t going to make him talk. Cassidy gave me the 411 on what your girl is capable of. She’s going to get the information for us.”

To hear Godfather speak so matter-of-factly about Selena’s daemon powers was more than a little freaky. It was downright creepy to know she could get into people’s heads and manipulate their thoughts and actions. Getting into Vegas’s head had nearly killed her. Would getting into Noslov’s push her to her limit again?

Was he willing to risk it? Her life for information they could easily get with a little L.O.S.T. coercion? A big part of him was not.

“Cruz, did you hear me?”

“I’m flattered you think I have that kind of control over her, which I don’t, but it’s a moot point. She’s gone.”

“Gone?”

“That stuff she injected me with ran me ragged. I crashed and burned last night. I woke up and she was gone. Your hunch was right about her connection to Balderama. She works for him. They got word that that asshole in Venezuela had struck a deal with Noslov for the cask. They went after it for safekeeping. We both failed. She’s on her way to Noslov, and she’s not going to share him if she gets to him first.”

“Cruz, see that she does.”

“You want me to stand by while she nabs him?”

“I want you to convince her we’re all on the same side. Once we have the information we need, we’ll maneuver the cask into our possession by whatever means necessary.”

“Godfather, you don’t know Selena—”

“No, but you do. Do whatever you must to get the information from her. I’ll alert our hangar at Miami International to have the jet ready. You’re going to have to fly it yourself, I’m fresh out of pilots. Now, get on it pronto. Word on the street is that deposits are being made on that cask. It’s become the hottest commodity to hit the black market since opium.”

Godfather hung up.

Nikko let out a long breath. He was torn between chartering a seaplane and flying up to St. Michael’s to see for himself if his suspicions were true, and the call of duty. In the end, duty trumped. Only because
if
Marisol was alive, she was safe. For the moment, at least. Besides, Selena Guerrero had a lot of explaining to do.

Dusk gently blanketed Paris. Selena hopped off the slick black Ducati Streetfighter she’d ridden in on, rocked it back on the kickstand, then pulled off her helmet. She shook her long hair as she covertly surveyed the activity on the street. She stood in the heart of Montmartre, the Sacré-Coeur looming just beyond the buildings surrounding her, its great white dome reflecting the setting sun. Just down the street on the same side as where she stood, a dozen armed men unsuccessfully attempted to blend in with the barren winter landscape. Noslov was in the building they milled in front of. She didn’t have to look up to know that at least a half dozen snipers patrolled the rooftops adjoining the building. Noslov had the misconception he was protected. Maybe against most threats, including Nikko’s team, but Noslov’s highly trained mercs were no match for the power she would unleash on them.

Selena smiled, anxious for the encounter. She’d always had a bit of an adrenaline junkie in her, but after Johnny—well, having realized what she must do to survive, she lived for this kind of stuff.

Farther down the street, she noticed two men who were doing a much better job of looking to be part of the landscape. One was disguised as a starving artist slowly lugging his canvas-laden bike up the hill, while another had set up shop as a street vendor selling secondhand frames.

Her nose twitched. The vampire from her club and his consort were near. She was impressed. Whatever agency Johnny, er, Nikko worked for certainly knew its trade. The woman was undetectable, and the vampire? Her gaze rose toward the rooftop directly across the street from the building Noslov was holed up in. The vampire’s blood scent was strong, but so was the decay of the guards he had taken out.

She wasn’t worried about the humans, but the vampire was formidable. She’d keep an eye out for him. Nikko was formidable, too. The Rev had upped his strength, his senses, his attitude—his libido. A warm flush washed across her cheeks. Last night was, damn, it was crazy sexy. What had started as a simple push to get him to return her necklace had turned into a—well, it was crazy. And she had no regrets. They both had gotten something out of the deal. Her bonus, the necklace.

Selena pushed the heated moments of last night deep into her memory banks for later. Her focus now was 100 percent on extracting Noslov.

Her sharp gaze swept the perimeter again, this time for a sign of Nikko. He would show up soon enough. She could have told him not to waste the time and jet fuel. She had no doubt in her mind who would walk away with Noslov. Selena turned and strode away from the building she had been standing against, turning at the next street corner and then down the alley running parallel to the street behind the buildings. The sun’s receding rays had long since disappeared.

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