Chapter 4
CHAPTER 4
I n Roan Malek’s home world, there wasn’t much beauty. Beautiful things didn’t survive in such harsh conditions. But here, in this dimension, beauty was everywhere. The landscape, the people, animals…it was all gorgeous. Hell, even the food here was beautiful.
But to this day, Haven Hall was the most beautiful thing he’d ever laid eyes on.
Seeing her was always a gut punch. But seeing her now? Here? Pounding on his door?
He didn’t even have words.
Pretending he wasn’t home wasn’t an option. Her ability to read auras had already told her he was here. She could most assuredly see how her presence absolutely wrecked him.
Hopefully, he could hide how much he wanted to pull her into his arms and never let her go again. Which was not an option. Not after what had happened.
Not after what he’d done to her. The thing he could never tell her.
Through the peephole in his front door, he saw her tapping her foot impatiently. Haven had many virtues, but patience wasn’t one of them. She knew what she wanted, and she wanted it all yesterday.
“You know I know you’re in there, Roan,” she snapped. “Open the damn door.”
He was surprised it had taken her two years to try tracking him down. She could’ve done so easily. He imagined it was pride that kept her away. Or maybe she just hated him.
Which was, of course, the whole point of him leaving Section 8 and not telling anyone where he was going. She was supposed to go on with her life and forget all about him (except for when she waltzed head-first into danger and he needed to teleport her to safety), and the only way she’d do that was if she hated him.
So why did the thought of her hating him feel like a knife to the heart?
He did his best to brush the feeling off and focus on his next move. Hopefully, that next move would not involve falling to his knees at her feet and begging for her forgiveness.
Taking a deep, steadying breath, he opened his door and crossed his arms over his chest to keep from reaching for her.
He’d like to say that after years of knowing her, he could look at her without his breath getting lodged in his throat. But he couldn’t. Because, damn it, she was so damn beautiful it hurt to look at her for too long. Knife-edged cheekbones, full, pouty pink lips, delicate, dark-winged brows, eyes greener than any forest in any dimension he’d ever seen… phew . It was a lot to take in. And that wasn’t even taking into account the waist-length, thick, black curls that he’d kill to wrap around his fist just once. Or the lush curves and elegant lines of her body and how perfectly they’d line up with the hard angles of his.
But if he was going to avoid dragging her into his house, pinning her to his bed and never letting her go, he really needed to change the direction of his thoughts, which meant not waxing poetic about her face and body.
Haven had zero ability to hide her feelings. Every emotion was written all over her face. It was one of the things he loved most about her. And what he was seeing on her face right now?
Anger. Pain. Disappointment. So much anger and pain and disappointment that she looked ready to punch him. He almost wished she would. A punch would hurt him a lot less than knowing he was the cause of every one of those emotions.
Her feelings warred within her for a few moments and he waited to see which would win out. Ultimately, it was the anger. Roan was glad. The anger was so much better than the pain.
Haven crossed her arms over her chest, mimicking his posture. He refused—refused, damn it—to notice how the action drew attention to the way her breasts filled out her simple black T-shirt.
“I don’t want to talk about what you think I want to talk about,” she said, narrowing her eyes on him.
This felt like a trap. “OK.”
Her eyes dipped for a split second and her cheeks colored. That’s when he remembered he wasn’t wearing a shirt. Well…hell.
She recovered her righteous indignation quickly, though. “I’m here to tell you that I have a job to do, and you can’t stop me from doing it anymore.”
“Is that so?”
“It is.”
He suddenly felt a lot better about seeing her again. This he could handle. Mostly because it wasn’t going to be a conversation about his feelings or hers. All he had to do was teleport her back home. Except when he tried…nothing happened.
What. The. Fuck .
The smirk she gave him was pure evil. “Performance issue?”
Roan concentrated harder than he’d ever concentrated and still couldn’t budge her. “What the hell did you do, Haven?”
“I put a magical chastity belt on myself. Your days of showing up and removing me from whatever situation you deem too dangerous for me are over .”
He took a step forward until she was forced to crane her neck back to meet his gaze—his panicked gaze, he would imagine. No one got in more trouble than Haven, even when she wasn’t working as a hunter. He needed to be able to teleport her. “You can’t do that.”
She matched him, taking a defiant step forward. They were only a heartbeat away from each other now. “I already did. So now, you have a choice.”
He snorted. Like he’d ever had a choice where she was concerned. “What choice?”
“I’m going to investigate what’s potentially a paranormal crime scene. You can stalk me from afar like you’ve been doing for the past two years…or you can just come with me and act as my back up.”
“Or I could call your mother and father. Let them stop you.”
Her eyes flared. God, she was gorgeous when she was angry. And when she was talking. Or thinking. Or breathing. “They can stop me once, but not forever. I’ll keep trying until I get what I want. You know that.”
Did he ever. There was nothing he could do to change her mind. That much was clear by the mulish set of her jaw and ramrod straight spine. His protection over the past two years had apparently pissed her off enough that she was now willing to devote herself to thwarting his best efforts. No one could turn spite into productivity like Haven Hall.
The sad reality was that this investigation was happening, whether he approved or not.
With a sigh that came straight from the depths of his black, battered soul, he turned on his heel and stalked back into his house. “Let me grab a shirt.”
He wasn’t sure, but he thought she muttered, “Not on my account.”
However, when he glanced back at her, her wide green eyes were totally innocent. He must’ve misunderstood. He hoped he’d misunderstood. Because the only thing that could fuck up their current dynamic more than it was already fucked was if Haven wanted him as much as he wanted her.
Now that would be a disaster of epic proportions.