Yes. Good ole Grandfather Cyrus Tallant Sr. The bastard.
“Is the price lower for a trip to the restroom?” She sighed wearily. There should be a rule that negotiations could only be conducted when both parties were at their best. Or their weakest. The playing field really should be even.
Whatever the hell he had done to her had her head fuzzy as hell.
“Restroom breaks are free.” He shrugged. “So is the water. Take a bath while you’re in there. It might improve your disposition.”
Yeah, sure. Why didn’t she just do a few laps while she was at it? She wondered if she would even have the strength to carry her ass to wherever the hell the bathroom was located. Whatever he had used to knock her out with had made her weak as a kitten.
“Where is it?” She forced herself to move. Forced. Focused every ounce of strength she possessed into moving her legs, shifting her body. A person might never realize how much they used their backs, until those muscles cramped with the pain.
She hadn’t been so stiff the night before because she had worked out the soreness through the day. Now, after the enforced sleep, however long she had slept, she had stiffened to the point of agony.
No tears. She blinked back the moisture the pain of movement brought as she slid to the edge of the bed, careful to keep the blankets over vital parts of her na**d body.
“Behind the curtain.” He jerked his head to the rich maroon velvet curtain hanging on the wall several feet from the bottom of the bed.
“Figures,” she muttered to herself. “Of course it couldn’t be anywhere close.”
“This far underground, pretty girl, you have to put the facilities in the best plumbable area.” There was a shrug in his voice, but the only thing that really caught her was the underground part.
As she sat on the edge of the bed she turned to stare at him in resignation. “Underground?”
He flashed his teeth. Especially those wickedly sharp incisors. “Deep underground, sugar. You got phobias?”
“If I did, I’d be screwed at this point, wouldn’t I?” Forcing amused derision into her voice wasn’t easy.
“Well, you might be screwed anyway,” he murmured. “Do you have any preferences there?”
Scheme almost laughed at the thought of that one. Oh, she had many preferences, and she was certain he could handle most of them.
“Sorry, I’ve decided Breeds are off the list this year. Try next year,” she suggested lightly.
“Let’s see if we can’t change your mind for this year first.” His smile was predatory. Almost frightening.
Scheme stared back at him in surprise.
“All this for a roll in the sheets? You killed my assassin, carted me to only God knows where, underground, so you could get f**ked? Isn’t that a little extreme?”
Even for Tanner it was extreme. Even the Breed community itself recognized that their Bengal brother was a little outside of what Breeds considered normal behavior. But this was more than Scheme had expected.
“Getting f**ked will be an added benefit,” he said. “Go get your bath; we can discuss terms later.”
Fine. They could discuss it later. Just chickie. Suited her. She didn’t know if she had enough mental capabilities to discuss the weather right now, let alone the terms to anything.
She gripped the sheet, intending to pull it with her as she rose.
“No sheet.” Hard. Growling. The tone had her gaze jerking back to his and then to the hand gripping the sheet through the quilt that covered it.
Now, why hadn’t she just expected that one? Son of a bitch, she was supposed to be protected from Breed kidnappings or attempted hits by Jonas. What? Did the director of Breed affairs forget to send out that memo? Tanner was supposed to be contained and his movements reported to her if he came anywhere close to her, because of his rumored declaration to see the Tallants wiped off the face of the Earth. And she was after all a Tallant. What the hell had happened to Jonas protecting her? First she had seen he had ditched that stupid party, and now this?
“Fine. No sheet.” She rose to her feet, letting the sheet and quilt slide over her body.
She had learned a long time ago not to let her own nudity distress her. No weakness was her father’s motto as well. And that meant none. He had raised her with the same iron fist that he had trained his marines with when he was in the Corps.
Holding her head high, she gave him a mocking little smile and moved without haste to the bathroom.
Suck it in, Breed, she thought with a spurt of amusement as his eyes heated and his hard body tensed. It was like teasing a hungry animal, and something inside her decided it was fitting punishment. For both of them.
Tanner leaned against the thick post of the bed, crossed his arms over his chest and watched her. Bad mistake. It was all he could do to keep the mocking amusement on his face rather than go to his knees and drool like a cur dog as she walked past.
Bengal Tigers did not drool.
But damn if she wasn’t a sight worth drooling for. Sleek, well-toned flesh, long silky hair and a grace that had him clenching his teeth to hold back a sliver of respect.
Small, high br**sts, a rounded little tummy and curl-covered pu**y. Most women waxed or shaved their pussies, keeping the flesh there soft and silky smooth. And Breeds had no true body hair themselves. Which meant he was fascinated by it. Loved it. He couldn’t wait to find out what those soft curls hid from his gaze, flesh only his fingers had known so far.
Long sable hair fell to her waist, tangled but silky and thick, caressing her back and h*ps with a flirting sexiness he found definitely appealing.
She was beautiful. Simply beautiful. And weaker than a kitten. He was going to have to have a little talk with Jackal about the strength of the dosage in that sedative. Fuck, he was a mess and he hated being a mess. Calm and controlled, that was his motto. Unless he was between a pair of beautiful thighs belonging to a hot woman. That was worth letting go of a little control. But not this much. Never this much.
Tanner sighed wearily as he heard the water running in the bathroom, before pacing to the cabinets Callan had set along the side of the cavern wall, while keeping a careful ear on Scheme in the bathroom.
She was muttering to herself. He couldn’t catch what she was saying, but if he had any parentage, it was definitely being called into question.
Shaking his head, he drew the microwave, hot plate and coffeepot from below the counter and set them in place before plugging them into the outlets set into the stone wall.