The proposal was dangerous on multiple levels. Going undercover as Marcus's lover would put them both at risk—from the traffickers and from their own desires that had been simmering beneath the surface for months.

"What did you have in mind?" Marcus's voice was carefully controlled, but Luna could scent his arousal.

Luna's smile was pure wolf. "We make ourselves visible. Let word spread that the big bad vampire detective is sleeping with a werewolf. See who comes hunting."

"And if they come for you?"

"Then you'll protect me." She leaned closer, her breath warm against his ear. "Won't you, Marcus?"

Her scent was intoxicating him, she could tell—wild and free and everything he'd probably denied himself for centuries. Luna had always been good at reading people, but Marcus was an open book when his control slipped.

"Luna..." His voice was strained.

"Don't think, Marcus. Just feel." Her lips brushed his neck, and she felt him shudder. "When's the last time you let yourself feel anything?"

Too long, if his reaction was any indication. Luna could practically feel the internal war raging in him—duty versus desire, control versus passion.

Luna cupped his face, thumb tracing his cheekbone. "This is dangerous."

"The best things always are," Marcus replied. When Luna kissed him, it was like lightning striking. He tasted like moonlight and winter air, and when she nipped at his lower lip, he growled low in his throat—a sound that sent heat straight through her.

Her hands gripped his shirt, pulling him closer, and she could feel his pulse racing beneath her lips as she kissed down his throat. Well, not his pulse—vampires didn't have those—but something, some vibration of power that responded to her touch.

"Not here," she breathed against his ear. "Take me home, Marcus. Take me to bed."