Playboy Brendan Cromerty isn't looking to fall in love, only save the feisty Dallas St. John from a mystical force threatening to destroy her. But what he discovers about himself and Dallas is more than his take-control heart can handle.

Brendan crossed his arms. His patience was wearing thin. He'd been waiting for her in this darkened corner of the alleyway for the past several hours.

She was damned right about one thing--she was running late.

The quick clap-clap of her high heels against the pavement shouldn't have sounded the least bit sensual to his ears. Unfortunately, Brendan was still aroused from his missed opportunity and everything this morning was making him think about sex. He couldn't help but imagine how her tight, round breasts moved in concert with her frantic stride. And if she happened to be wearing the tailored suit from his vision, she'd be showing just enough of her cleavage to tempt his already overactive imagination. It was only too easy to picture putting his mouth to her breast and teasing her nipple through the silk of her blouse into a hard, visible nub.

Vastly inappropriate, Brendan.

Inappropriate or not, he couldn't seem to shake the image or chase away the building heat his sex-deprived body craved. When she rounded the corner, not watching where she was going, Brendan stepped out from the shadows and made sure she ran straight into his solid chest.

He wrapped his arms around her slender waist to keep her from bouncing off him and falling on her ass.

"Ex-excuse me," she said with a huff, while wiggling against him. It was her effort to pry herself free from his chest, Brendan supposed. Unfortunately, it only made him hornier.

Easy there, tender one, you're not dealing with a human with human appetites.

"You shouldn't be in such a hurry," he said, enjoying her warmth on this frosty morning and the feel of her shapely body against him more than he probably should. "Accidents happen when you rush."

She glanced up at him. Her green eyes grew wide and darkened several shades.

For a moment she looked as if she might argue. But she licked her lips instead.

Her hair was dark, but not exactly black. The color was more vibrant and alive than simple black. Sable-colored, perhaps. Shiny. Luminescent, even in the dim light of the alleyway. With a nervous shake of her head, she mumbled something about not being able to believe her rotten luck. As a result, her long hair tumbled out of the combs that had been holding it up off her neck.

The silky strands brushed the back of his hand. He knew he shouldn't, but he let his gaze travel from her hair and down her gently arching back.

Yep, he shouldn't have done that. Not with her pressed so neatly against him and with his state of mind so focused on sex this morning. Just as he'd seen in the vision, she was wearing the suit with those tantalizing peeks of her cleavage.

He tried again to shake away the attraction he was feeling toward her. New Ones were skittish. He needed to focus on keeping her safe and not on how his cock was growing just from feeling her wren-like movements as he held her within the circle of his arms.

"Excuse me," she said, again. This time she didn't sound the least bit sorry. "Do I know you? Oh, never mind. It doesn't matter. I have an appointment to get to and I'm already late for it." She dragged in a deep breath. "Let me go."