Lots of big cities. And she was sure there had been lots of women in those cities. Cain was far too sexy not to have attracted more than his share of lovers. Hell, maybe the guy was too used to big-city life and the games that men and women played there.

Emotional games weren’t for her. Her ex-fiancés could tell him that.

He stepped closer to her and lifted a hand to trail over her arm. “I’m not playing.”

She swallowed, liking that touch far too much. And when the backs of his fingers rubbed lightly against her breast, she sucked in a quick pull of air. “Then—then what is this hot-and-cold mood? One day, you’re acting wild”—good word there—“for me, the next—” He’d been completely hands-off.

And it had hurt. When she sure hadn’t been expecting pain. She’d been rejected before. She was thirty-two, for heaven’s sake. Of course she’d been rejected.

But this, it was different.

He was different, and not just because the guy could turn into an animal at will.

His hands clamped over her arms. He lifted her up and pushed her back onto the edge of the desk. Her skirt fluttered briefly around her flesh.

“What are you—”

His lips were on hers. Hot. Hard. Demanding and possessive.

Wild.

Just the way she’d been craving him.

Her fingers clenched into fists. She wanted to reach out and hold him, but she was not going to give in to her need, not until they settled a few things between them.

She wasn’t some kind of itch the guy could scratch whenever he wanted. Good kisser—oh, yeah, he was—or not.

Miranda wrenched her lips from his, and Cain immediately began to kiss and lick his way down her neck.

Goosebumps rose along her flesh, and the urge to lean in to him was so strong.

“I had to give you time.” He growled the words against her flesh. He pushed between her legs, shoving up the fabric of her skirt several desperate inches. The thick length of his erection was obvious even through his clothing.

He caught her earlobe between his teeth, bit lightly, and had her shuddering.

“I-I needed you too much.” The words were almost a growl now and his breath blew over her skin in a delicious caress. “But my need . . .” Now his head lifted and his gaze caught hers. “It can be dangerous.”

The jaguar flashed in her mind. Raging its fury in the night. Teeth. Claws.

“You’d been hurt enough.” He caught a strand of her hair between his thumb and forefinger. Brought the lock to his face and inhaled. “I couldn’t risk taking you while you were weak, and hurting you again.”

So he’d pulled away. Her back teeth clenched. Men could be such jerks.

And damn, but they could make a woman want.

Want to killthem.

Want to fuck them.

“Next time,” she gritted, “explain.” Before she went insane.

His eyes began to shine with the light of his beast. “I had to stay away from you as much as I could.” His fingers released her hair. “ ’Cause anytime I so much as caught your scent, I wanted to take you.”

Didn’t sound like such a bad thing to her.

“I held on to my control last time. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to do it again.”

“Who said I wanted you to be controlled?” She’d never asked him to use kid gloves with her. The idea of having him, hungry and aggressive, it just turned her on all the more.

“You needed control. You were hurt. And you’re human.”

He said the last like it was her fault. Her muscles tensed. Humanity wasn’t exactly something she was going to apologize for.

The flare of anger must have shown in her expression because he swore softly. “You don’t get it, baby. Being human, it means you’re weaker than me. Than every supernatural out there. It means you can be hurt, too easily.”

So he’d been holding back because he didn’t want to hurt her. She snorted. What utter bullshit.

And what a waste of time.

Her hands rose to grasp his shoulders. Curled into the muscles. “Stop worrying about hurting me.” He should have realized after what they’d been through that she wasn’t going to shatter with a bruise or a cut. “And focus more on making love to me.” Because that was what she wanted. Right there. Right then.

The door was locked. Blinds were closed.

And she could tell that Cain was more than ready.

So was she.

When his nostrils widened, she knew that he’d caught the scent of her arousal. Hell, he’d probably known she was turned on the minute he walked into the room.

Her hands dropped to his waist. Caught the buckle of his belt in her fingers.

A tremble shook his body. “Ah, baby, you don’t—”

The belt was free. She unsnapped the button at the top of his jeans, lowered the zipper, and stroked his erection through the thin cotton of his boxer shorts.

After a second, two, her fingers pushed the shorts down, and she took the length of his erection between her hands. Squeezed. Pumped. Root to tip. Again.

He was warm beneath her touch. And so strong. As she touched him, his arousal grew.

She wondered what he would taste like.

His hands were on her breasts now. Stroking her through her shirt and bra. Caresses that became harder in time with the movements of her hands. A growing demand to match her own.

A phone rang in the distance. Voices, muted, drifted to her ears.

She didn’t care.