
Roman hadn't wanted to come back, not after their last meeting. He knew she was a hard ass. The hardest damn rock of a sharp shooter he'd ever met, but it was becoming impossible to ignore her. Impossible to forget her. She'd begun to infiltrate his dreams, and he didn't like it. He did not want to be interested in this woman.
His father had warned him, had warned all of the children, their time would come, and when it did, there was nothing to be done about it.
Roman was the second born, second son in a group of non-identical quadruplets. The rarity of multiple siblings in a single birth was astronomical. And yet, there had never been an explanation for it either. His mother had never admitted to doing anything to encourage the quadruplet birth, and Roman would be the last person to ask if she had manipulated it.
Still, he was thankful for his family. He loved his brother and his sisters. He adored his parents--they knew how to stay out of his life. But for once, in this instance, deep inside he wished this was something he didn't have to face alone.
It sucked that this was happening to him first. He felt like a damn guinea pig, because now he knew why he was drawn to the raven-haired woman when so many others could be dismissed like yesterday's paper.
This woman, the one he still didn't have a real name for after more fruitless searching, was by all of his senses, his mate. The only information he'd found on her was more names and addresses than any one person should be born with. She was a chameleon on paper, but a hot-blooded woman in person.
He swallowed as he leaned his motorcycle to rest, and tossed his leg across with an easy movement as he stared at the warehouse yet again. Maybe this time she wouldn't be here. He could only hope.
He pushed the door open and heard the grating sound again. He held his jaw tight waiting for the expected shout to leave. It never came. His head snapped up instead when he heard a guttural cry in the depths of the building. Instinctively, he pulled his weapon from its holster, searching in all directions, sliding into the shadows as the cry repeated followed by a sharp cracking sound. Every nerve he had went on alert as he followed the sound, nearing a step at a time. He rolled his body soundlessly around a corner, his vision trying to adjust to the flickering light from the overhead windows in the cavernous area of the warehouse.
He drew a breath. She was there. Even as he inched further down the wall making his assessment, the relieved fact that she was alone registered at the same unstoppable instant his wrists were whacked with a rod. Less than three seconds later he was flat on his back--again--staring up at her wide eyed and annoyed expression.
"You of all people should know better than to sneak up on a woman during her exercise. We hate witnesses," she reprimanded him, barely winded. She held out her hand to help him to his feet with hardly more than a passing glance.
He rubbed his ass for the second time because of this woman. "I heard a fight."
He stared behind her when she poked a thumb over her shoulder. "I was playing with my doll," she remarked with a wry twist to her lips.
Her 'doll' was a multi-limbed wooden workout apparatus. She shot him a chagrined stare when she leaned over to retrieve his gun. She handed it to him without comment.
"Thanks."
"No problem. I put it there," she pointed out as she turned to pick up the bamboo she'd unarmed him with. She didn't bother to give him a second glance as she returned to her workout.
All he could do was shake his head at her ability as she started back up again. That made twice she'd gotten the better of him, three with the shootout. He noticed she was taking on a new position on the mats, facing her 'doll'. Well, if she didn't care, neither did he.
He found a spot against the wall to get comfortable and started to inspect his gun for damage and dusted it with his handkerchief as she beat the hell out of the dummy hanging by a chain.
He flinched when a solid kick sent the apparatus spinning on its ground connector. Damn, she's tough. He couldn't help the thought as she kept up the robust kicks and slamming hand blocks. She flew through the air, executing a kick that could have decapitated a horse. Her cry echoed wall to wall as she moved through the air, rising high and kicking out again. Roman's eyes widened as she moved. She was poetry in motion. He watched as she did a back flip and faced the doll, executing a precise slice, knowing anyone who challenged her, would be taking their life into their own hands. She knew what she was doing.
It was some time later when she knelt and bowed her head in the middle of the mat. She was breathing hard and her skin glowed with a rosy hue, damp from both the warmth of the warehouse and from her exertions. Her self-absorption gave him ample opportunity to look at the woman who was, as far as he could tell by his reactions, supposed to be his life mate.
She wasn't gorgeous. Her features were a bit wide. But if memory served him right, with her height, she had a set of legs that were beyond fantastic. She had nice breasts, from the shape formed by her outfit, and her hair still drew him. Raven black with a soft touch that could almost be a curl, but ended more in a wave.
He clenched his fist demanding control, fighting the impulse to touch her as his hand rose of its own accord. He would control this. Just because her scent could almost bring him to his knees and the curve of her body beckoned to him like a lighthouse beacon on a storm tossed night, he would not accept that as his only evidence.
Choosing a life mate was not an easy accomplishment, for anyone in his family. It required finesse for one, and a huge amount of trust. In his business it was hard earned. In his private life, he only trusted family.
He made a small snickering sound, aware she didn't even trust him with her name. Great start, he thought sarcastically as she rose from her knees and flipped the mat back against the wall. She unhooked the ground clamp, then hit a covered button over his head and the dummy rose off the floor. It disappeared into the rafters of the building.
"I like to protect him from vandals. I'm the only one who gets to beat him up," she stated as his stare locked with hers.
He nodded in understanding. His voice seemed to have gone on vacation with those azure blue eyes staring so coolly back at him.
She offered a hand again. "I'll shower and then you can tell me why you're here."
His mouth turned to cotton as the picture of her naked body streaked with water hit him between the eyes. He fought to keep it from his expression as he gamely followed her. He would control this, he ordered himself one last time. He refused to acknowledge anything less.