Page 74 of Elven Prince

Notthiskind of pressure from Maxwell Hannigan while he tried to corner her, pursuing his own personal mission to get what he wanted out of her.

Not that she had much prior experience, but her automatic response for so long had been to immediately build walls and push everyone else away.

Then another feeling that didn’t belong to her crashed through her mind and her body. She knew, simply from the energy exchanged between them, what Maxwell wanted.

He was intent on discovering why she’d kept that information about Rowan from him for as long as she had.

It wasn’t just a hunch. The knowledge camefromMaxwell, through everything their damn connection siphoned into her like air through a ventilation system.

Only this one didn’t give her fresh air but the intensely suffocating feeling that he simply wasn’t going to stop.

Not this time. Maybe not ever.

She knew what he wanted from her. She’d known for a long time.

What she didn’t know was where that tattoo had come from, who Maxwell had aligned himself with to work against her, and how little she could afford to truly trust him because she didn’t know a damn thing about him.

Without filling in those blanks, she couldn’t let herself give in to the dark pull drawing her closer, tugging at her core, tempting her body with the sizzling heat of possibility and desire and surrender growing ever stronger between them.

Maybe even strong enough to one day overpower Rebecca completely, if she didn’t get a hold of herself.

Even while she crossed the common room, those sensations followed her closely, always at her side, behind her, in front of her, surrounding her from every possible direction and shooting through her like a fatal wound.

She couldnotlet this happen. No matter how strongly the energy of her connection with Maxwell washed over her every time she nodded at an operative as she passed them, or stopped to answer another’s quick question before directing them to the appropriate member of the Security team, or when she played Roth-Da’al on autopilot and told one of the newest members to bring their findings up to her office before the end of the day.

Rebecca moved across the common room in a haze, time slowing like her entire life was nothing more than a dream.

Like she moved through the slow, syrupy thickness of reality, and only the intensifying pull toward Maxwell—always there at her side, always tempting her toward more—was the only true reality.

She couldn’t get rid of him while maintaining her composure as Roth-Da’al, and she couldn’t bring herself to make an exception.

Rebecca couldn’t doanythinganymore without that constant temptation jerking her around while her Head of Security remained at her side, instigating all of it, and no one else in the whole damn compound had any idea what was happening.

No one else could do a thing about it.

Then, without remembering exactly how she’d gotten there, or how many people she’d spoken to along the way, or what exactly she might have ordered or suggested, Rebecca walked down the hallway leading to the rear stairwell up to the second floor.

Shade members occasionally walked past, briefly greeting her and Maxwell while their focus remained on doing their part to help Shade formulate its next plan against the oncoming threat.

The next time the hallway was clear, leaving Rebecca and Maxwell entirely alone, the shifter was instantly at her side again, his breath hot and deliciously threatening against her ear, tickling the side of her face.

“You opened a brand-new door with that performance about Blackmoon,” he growled.

Performance?Thatwas his takeaway?

She stared straight ahead, maintaining a consistent pace down the hall and pretending she didn’t feel every movement, every glance, every breath.

He clung to her side as if they’d been physically sewn together.

“I open a lot of doors,” she said.

“And you revealed a lot more information than anyone else previously had. Enough to convince most people of your open transparency in full. But there’s more to that story, isn’t there?”

His final question reverberated in her ear, the dark intent in his voice sending a shudder of both pleasure and denial rippling across her neck and down her back.

He was really pulling out all the stops to work her now, wasn’t he?

Because therewasmore to the story, and now, apparently, they both knew it.

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