The woman was going to be a handful, Cad could already tell. She was sexy, enticing, but reticent and frightened. He wondered how any woman could be so damned innocent and so knowing at once.

One thing was certain. He was beginning to understand what had come over Phair.

The red-haired goddess had shot them each in the heart—or perhaps between the legs—with arrows of temptation. He and Phair weren’t supposed to want her. They weren’t supposed to hunger for her, crave her, stare at her with the eyes of two shifters who knew when they’d found their mate.

Yet here they were, in serious trouble already, despite Roth’s warnings. They’d been tasked with a job, and now they found themselves locked into a literal sex den with the most beautiful woman either of them had ever seen.

Well played, idiots, Cad muttered under his breath.

Still, he obeyed Mir’s command to move to the bed. The moment she’d climbed on and sat down in the middle, her back pressed against layers of pillows, the two men approached from either side. Cad couldn’t help but stare at her legs as her dress’s hem slipped upward to show off a set of soft, creamy thighs. She was fair-skinned, her ivory flesh so biteable that it was getting very difficult to resist.

He’d determined earlier that she wasn’t wearing a bra, but now it looked as though there was nothing at all under that dress. Nothing, that was, but her arousal.

If he’d met her in a pub, Cad would have offered to buy her a drink. Would have talked sweetly to her. Perhaps he would even have found himself nibbling on her neck after a few minutes, bringing her home with him to spend the night doing unspeakable things to one another.

But this wasn’t some friendly pub, and she was forbidden fruit, this one. All the more off limits for appealing to something deeper inside him than simple carnal desire. She’d set in motion a craving far more serious than a mere urge to fuck.

He wanted every bit of her. Her mind as much as her body. He wanted to see inside her, to learn what made her tick.

When he’d slipped up next to her, he lay on his side, face cupped in his left hand as he stared at her profile, his gaze sliding over her pink lips and delicate, pointy nose.

Maybe if he got a little closer, he could get her to open up. Maybe…

Ignoring the voices of warning inside him, he lay a hand on her thigh and slipped it upwards until it disappeared under the layer of green silk that barely covered her right thigh.

“Do you mind,” he asked softly, “if I touch you?”

She turned her face towards him, a strange, distant smile finding its way to her kissable lips.

“No,” she replied. “To tell the truth, tonight is the first time I’ve ever been in this room and actually…wanted…a man to touch me.” She turned her attention to Phair for a moment. “Two men, actually.”

“Good,” said Cad as his fingers began to explore her upper thigh. Like a man possessed, he watched as she writhed under his touch.

He was just doing his job, he told himself. Trying to extract information via a form of very pleasant coercion.

No.

That was a lie.

He wanted to touch her, plain and simple. Barton’s dealings were of no interest to him at the moment. He was possessed by a desire—a need—to get his hands on Mir.

With her consent, of course. Whatever Phair might think of him, he wasn’t the sort of entitled bastard who assumed that women wanted his attention. He never forced, never pressured. The only thing he ever wanted was to bring pleasure to a woman.

In Mir’s case, though, he wanted more. Much more.

Focus on the reason you’re here, he told himself. You should at least pretend to be doing your job.

“Your boss owns you, Mir,” he said softly. “Doesn’t he?”

Phair, who’d sidled over to the opposite side of the bed, was watching intently, a look of growing irritation on his face. Apparently he didn’t entirely approve of Cad’s methods.

Funny, thought Cad, a minute ago you looked like you were about to kiss her.

Mir closed her eyes and let out a gasp as his fingers found the wetness between her legs.

“Answer me,” he whispered, easing closer, letting his hot breath caress her chest.

“No,” she said. “I work here, that’s all.”

He slid his fingertips over her opening slowly, teasing her every nerve. “You like this?” he asked.

She nodded breathlessly.

“Tell us more,” he said.

“I…can’t…” she groaned, her hips gyrating.

“What are you doing?” growled Phair.

“Talking,” Cad replied softly. “Just talking.”

The Béorn shifter moved up onto the bed and sat on Mir’s other side, watching. Cad could tell that he wasn’t sure if he should join in on the persuasion tactic or stop his Pack mate from behaving so badly.

He knew perfectly well that everything that he was doing had the potential to blow up in his face. He was giving in to his attraction, pulling her closer with each stroke of his fingers, with each intake of breath. But he was also trying to open her up to the notion that she could trust them. That he and Phair were only there to make her feel good, to look after her needs.

“You’re so wet, lovely,” Cad said as he found the spot that made Mir’s spine arch under her. “Oh, that’s the place,” he whispered. “This is what you like best, isn’t it?”

Again, she nodded. “It feels so good. No one ever does this,” she said. “No one ever tries to make me feel like…this…”

“I want you to feel good,” he replied, pressing forward, kissing her shoulder, her chest just above the place where her dress was drooping down low. If he pushed it a little, he could work his way to her nipple. “I want to give you everything you need, Mir.”

“Yes,” she gasped. “Do it.”

He drove his fingers inside her, then out again, slipping them over her clit before dipping them back in. “Tell us about Barton.”

“I can’t,” she moaned, squirming under his touch.

“Yes, you can. Tell us why he’s willing to hand you over to two strangers like us. Tell us why you’re willing to sell yourself.” He slipped his fingers out again. Then in. Out. In. Out. He could feel her tightening around him as he rubbed his thumb over her clit.

Fuck, she was so wet. Clearly, she wanted them both as badly as they wanted her. He almost hated himself for interrogating her when he should have been making love to her. All he wanted was to get his mouth on her, to taste her, to lick her until she came for him.

You’re meant for me, he thought. Meant for us.

“Tell us what Barton’s doing with this place,” Phair said. He still wasn’t touching Mir, wasn’t trying to use Cad’s tactics. But his eyes were focused on the other shifter’s hand as it pleasured her to near orgasm. “How does he force you to stay here?”

“He doesn’t force me…he…he doesn’t…” she said, but she shut her mouth, swallowing a moan.

“What does he have on you, Mir?” Phair growled, his voice growing aggressive. “Does he force you to work here? Is he using your family to get to you?”

For whatever reason, the last question seemed to set Mir off. She reached down, pulled Cad’s hand away and sat bolt upright, straightening out her dress to cover as much of her legs as she could. “Stop it! No more questions!” she shouted. “If he finds out that you’ve been asking these things, he’ll…”

“He’ll what?” asked Cad.

Mir fixed him with a narrow-eyed stare. “You don’t want to know.”

“But that’s the point,” Cad protested. “We absolutely want to know. We need to know, in fact.”

“Why?” she asked. “What good will it do? The guy runs this city. If you’ve come to his club asking questions, chances are that you already know that. So what the hell do you have to gain by pressuring me into telling you anything more? You know he’s powerful. You know…you know he hurts people.”

“What do we have to gain?” asked Cad. “I—we—have answers to gain.” He pressed his palms to the mattress and leaned in towards her. “We need them, Miranda.”

“Yeah? Well, you’ll have to get them from someone else.” She moved rapidly towards Phair, who leapt off the bed to give her space. Cad opened his mouth to speak again, but the big man was already holding a hand out to silence him.

“Shut it,” Phair said. “Don’t say another damned word.”

“Why the hell not?” Cad asked. “We were sent here to…”

“Not another fucking word.”

Phair moved around the bed, incredibly agile for such a large man, and grabbed him by the collar. “Stop harassing her. Can’t you see that you’re making this difficult? She doesn’t want to talk.”

“No? Well, she was pretty fucking happy to have my fingers inside her a minute ago.”

As soon as he spoke the words, he regretted it. They were sleazy, a cheap shot at a woman who didn’t deserve them. He watched Mir slip back over to the desk chair, plopping herself down to turn her back to the two shifters.

“We’re leaving,” Phair said. He turned around. “Miranda, we apologize for our vile behaviour. We hope you can forgive us.”

With that, he headed to the door, unlocked it, pulled it open and stomped out. For a few seconds Cad hesitated. He stepped towards Mir.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

But it wasn’t enough.

He wanted to say I want you. I fucking crave you. You’ve done something to me and I don’t want to leave you here, not with that bastard in charge of your life. I want to take you away from this.

But instead, he simply repeated, “I’m sorry.”

Then he followed Phair outside, unsure if he’d ever see her again.