Slave to Sensation Read Free

his fingers, noting how her eyes went to them. Interesting. In his experience, the Psy never displayed any awareness of body language. It was as if they were completely cerebral, shut into the world of their minds. “But if you insist on that much involvement, I can’t promise we’ll hold to the timetable. In fact I’ll guarantee we won’t.”
    â€œWe have a proposal to counter that.” Night-sky eyes met his.
    He raised a brow. “I’m listening.” And so was the panther inside him. Both man and beast found Sascha Duncan captivating in a way that neither could understand. Part of him wanted to stroke her . . . and part of him wanted to bite.
    â€œWe’d like to work side by side with DarkRiver. To facilitate this, I request that you provide me with an office at your building.”
    Every nerve he had went taut. He’d just been granted access to a cardinal Psy almost twenty-four seven. “You want to be joined at the hip with me, darling? That’s fine.” His senses picked up a change in the atmosphere, but it was so subtle that it was gone before he could identify it. “Do you have authority to sign off on changes?”
    â€œYes. Even if I have to consult with Mother, I won’t need to leave the site.” It was a reminder that she was Psy, a member of a race that had sacrificed its humanity long ago.
    â€œHow far can a cardinal send?”
    â€œFar enough.” She pressed at something on her tiny screen. “So we’ll settle at eight?”
    He grinned at her attempt to catch him unawares, amused at the almost feline cunning. “Ten, or I walk out and you get something lower quality.”
    â€œYou’re not the only expert on changeling likes and dislikes out there.” She leaned forward a fraction.
    â€œYes.” Intrigued by this Psy who appeared to use her body as much as her mind, he deliberately echoed the movement. “But I’m the best.”
    â€œNine.”
    He couldn’t afford to let the Psy think of him as weak—they respected only the coldest, cruelest kind of strength. “Nine and a promise of another million if all the homes are presold by the time of the opening.”
    Another silence. The hairs on his nape lifted again. Inside his mind the beast batted at the air as if trying to catch the sparks of energy. Most changelings couldn’t feel the electrical storms generated by the Psy, but it was a talent that had its uses.
    â€œWe agree,” Sascha said. “I assume you have hard-copy contracts?”
    â€œOf course.” He flipped open a binder and slid across copies of the same document they undoubtedly had on their screens.
    Sascha picked them up and passed one to her mother. “Electronic would be much more convenient.”
    He’d heard it a hundred times from a hundred different Psy. Part of the reason changelings hadn’t followed the technological wave was sheer stubbornness; the other part was security—his race had been hacking into Psy databases for decades. “I like something I can hold, touch, and smell, something that pleases all my senses.”
    It was an innuendo he had no doubt she understood, but it was her reaction he was looking for. Nothing. Sascha Duncan was as cold a Psy as he’d ever met—he’d have to thaw her out enough to gain information about whether the Psy were harboring a serial killer.
    He found himself oddly attracted by the thought of tangling with this particular Psy, though until that moment, he’d considered them nothing but unfeeling machines. Then she looked up to meet his gaze and the panther in him opened its mouth in a wordless growl.
    The hunt had begun. And Sascha Duncan was the prey.
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    Two hours later, Sascha closed the door to her apartment and did a mental sweep of the premises. Nothing. Located in the same building as her office, the apartment had excellent security, but she’d used her