Ponta Delgada, São Miguel Island, AzoresThe wind whipped at Donovan's jacket as he stepped out of the taxi. Having grown up in London, he was used to gray, blustery weather, but this was something else entirely. The sky was the color of slate, the wind coming off the sea as sharp as a blade. But they were essentially in the middle of the Atlantic, so he wasn't surprised to find the climate so tempestuous.He reached back to help Sloane out of the car. She was still a little green in the cheeks - their plane had hit some turbulence on the landing - but behind her glasses her eyes were eagerly drinking everything in. Between the two of them, they'd visited over eighty countries and dozens of territories, but neither of them had ever been here before.Neither had that damned cat of hers, who seemed less than pleased by his new surroundings. The furry demon sniffed at the air before burying itself in the folds of Sloane's jacket, out of the wind and misty rain."This is where we're me

Donovan watched Sloane flee, rubbing his bottom lip.He'd told himself he'd heed Cruz's advice and control himself around her. This was not the time to indulge his carnal urges, not when the fate of the Set was at stake. Not when it might push Sloane away again. And yet when she'd looked at him, when she'd caressed his cheek with such tenderness, he'd been unable to stop himself from tasting her again.He didn't drink. He'd never been interested in alcohol, not after what had happened to his parents and sister. He'd often bitterly prided himself on his sobriety; how anyone could willingly partake of something that destroyed so many lives was beyond him. But he'd heard people speak of addiction - of that incessant, agonizing yearning, of that craving that was impossible to deny, no matter how much you knew you'd regret it in the end.That's what he felt around Sloane. He'd spent his entire life avoiding addiction, and he'd stumbled into it anyway. Thrown himself into it, consequences

Donovan held Sloane tightly against his chest, trying to keep her from making too much noise as she wriggled and twisted in his arms."Sloane," he rumbled in a low voice, "it's just me."She stopped struggling, and he released her mouth, then her arms. She twisted around, looking up at him in surprise."Way to give a girl a heart attack," she whispered back."I didn't want you to scream and draw attention to us.""Have you ever heard me scream?" she asked. She didn't look angry, though - just concerned. "What's going on? You guys didn't give me very much of a warning.""A man came out of the house," Donovan told her in a low voice. "Carrying a rifle. I think you were spotted." Beneath the surface, he was fuming. He knew they shouldn't have let her take this risk on her own. When that man had come stalking out with that big gun...something inside him had snapped. He still wasn't entirely sure how he'd managed to keep himself from attacking the man on sight.He angled himself to t

"This is it," Toshi said, rubbing his hands together as they stood in front of the Alcazaba. "The final stretch, you guys!"Donovan wished he felt as enthusiastic as his teammate. Instead, he found himself fighting a lump of unease.It's this damn city, he thought. Malaga was a beautiful place, but it twisted his judgment around until he could no longer tell up from down.He hadn't slept at all last night. He'd just kept thinking of Sloane in the next room. Even Toshi's snoring on the other side hadn't been able to drown out the heat of his desire. And it certainly hadn't eased the fire in his loins.But that wasn't the only thing bothering him. He'd been on edge ever since their near-miss with the suspected arms dealer back in Ponta Delgada. They'd escaped, but something about that scenario still niggled at him. Why hadn't Alyssa warned them? For that matter, why would Vincent Rinaldi hide a clue on the property of a man like that? Had he truly been as naive as Alyssa claimed? Or

When they reached the hotel, Donovan took Sloane to her room."I need to check your back," he told her as he laid her gently on her side on the bed.The moment she touched the mattress, a gray-and-white hairball bounced up out of nowhere, and Donovan bit back a curse of surprise. He'd forgotten all about the little furry demon.The cat hardly spared Donovan a glance. Instead, it went straight to Sloane and rubbed itself against her arm, then curled up against her belly, snuggling in as if the only reason she was here at all was to provide the little beast with a warm place to sleep.Donovan shook his head, chasing away the insults he wanted to hurl at the little beast."If the wound isn't deep, we can treat it here," he told her. "Otherwise, I'm taking you to a hospital.""Wouldn't it look suspicious, walking into the hospital with a knife wound?" Sloane asked, gently stroking her cat's fur.He frowned. "You think I care about that when your wellbeing is on the line?"That sile