The pressure in the room kept rising, but this time it was a completely different kind of tension.
Rakshasa was still smiling, but Victor's gaze changed. What had been playful provocation and relaxed dominance now fixed on her with a predatory intensity she knew well—and deeply craved.
"I promised I'd behave at the party," he repeated, his voice lower, rougher. "I didn't promise anything about now."
Before she could answer, his hands moved.
Not with the violence of an attack, but with the absolute certainty of someone who knew his territory. One hand wrapped around the back of her neck, fingers sinking into her night-black hair. The other slid down her back, over the curve of her hip, then beneath the back of her thigh.
He lifted her from the floor in one smooth motion, his strong body enclosing hers with an ease that always left her breathless.
