Page 6 of Anders (The Sunburst Pack #2)

Good foundation , she thought. Start with the basics, then expand coverage .

The scent of old paper and ink filled her nose, oddly comforting. But underneath it was that other smell again, the wild one that seemed to permeate everything in Sunburst.

She rubbed her temples, trying to concentrate on the task at hand.

A noise at the door made her head snap up, nostrils flaring. Her whole body tensed, every nerve ending suddenly alert.

Anders Hamilton stood in the doorway, his lean frame filling the space with a presence that made her skin tingle. That wild scent she’d been noticing intensified, and something deep inside her responded to it.

Sarah and Nick suggested I stop by, he said, his voice deep and controlled. Said you might want to talk about the community.

Etta had to swallow twice before she could speak. Yes, I—they mentioned you handle security for local properties?

He nodded, moving into the room with that fluid grace she’d already noticed. She tracked his movement, noting how he positioned himself to maintain clear sight lines to both door and windows.

Was that typical behavior for a security consultant?

Would you mind if I interviewed you? The words tumbled out before she could second-guess them. For the paper?

Anders hesitated, and she rushed to add, Just some basic questions about the area. Help me get a feel for the community.

Okay, he agreed finally. But no recordings.

Old-fashioned notes it is. She grabbed a fresh notepad, trying to ignore how her hands trembled slightly. Please, sit.

He chose a chair that gave him a clear view of the entrance. Etta found herself leaning forward unconsciously, drawn by something she couldn’t name.

So, Mr. Hamilton—

Anders, he corrected.

Anders. His name felt right on her tongue. How long have you lived in Sunburst?

All my life, except for four years in the army.

She made a note, though her pen barely touched the paper. She was too distracted by the way his scent seemed to fill the small office, making her head spin pleasantly.

And what made you choose security work?

Natural fit. His eyes—a striking hazel that seemed to shift between green and gold—studied her intently. I’m good at protecting people.

Something about the way he said it sent a shiver racing through her. Protecting them from what?

The desert can be dangerous. His voice dropped lower. Especially for those who don’t know what they’re dealing with.

The words should have sounded ominous, but instead they felt like a caress. Etta realized she’d been unconsciously leaning closer. Anders had too, his body angled toward hers as if drawn by some magnetic force.

What— Her voice came out husky. She cleared her throat and tried again. What should newcomers watch out for?

Anders’s gaze dropped to her lips for a fraction of a second. There are…predators in the area.

What kind? The question emerged as barely more than a whisper.

He was definitely closer now, though she hadn’t seen him move. The air between them felt charged, electric. Her heart pounded so loudly she was sure he must be able to hear it.

The kind that might find you very interesting. His voice had roughened, taking on an almost growling quality that—much like his earlier words—probably should have frightened her but instead made heat pool in her belly.

Etta tried to maintain a professional, analytical mental distance, to focus on the interview. But her body had other ideas. Every cell seemed alive with awareness of him. His scent surrounded her, making her want to bury her face in his neck and inhale deeply.

What is wrong with me?

Anders shifted forward slightly, and for one breathless instant, she thought he was going to kiss her. Part of her—a wild, primal part she hadn’t known existed—yearned for it with frightening intensity.

Then a car horn blared outside, shattering the moment.

Etta jerked back, nearly knocking over her chair. Anders was on his feet in an instant, his quick movement so smooth it seemed impossible for someone his size.

I should go, he said, his voice rough. Patrol to finish.

Yes, of course. Etta’s own voice sounded strange to her ears. Thank you for…for the interview.

He paused at the door, his gaze intense. Be careful, Ms. Barone. Especially after dark.

Then he was gone, though his scent lingered, making it hard to think clearly.

Etta stared at her notepad, which contained exactly three words— Anders Hamilton Interview —and several meaningless squiggles.

So much for professional journalism.

Get it together, she muttered, gathering her things.

She still needed to go grocery shopping, and the store would be closing soon.

But as she locked up the office, her body still hummed with awareness. Every sense felt heightened, alert. She found herself tracking Anders’s scent as he moved through town, though she told herself that was impossible.

The afternoon wind picked up, carrying the promise of rain—and beneath it, that wild, intoxicating scent that she now associated with Anders Hamilton.

Focus on work , she told herself firmly as she got into her car. Focus on the paper, on building a new life here .

But even as she made her mental grocery list, her mind kept drifting back to Anders. The way he moved. The sound of his voice. The moment when she’d thought he might kiss her.

The scary part wasn’t how much she’d wanted that kiss.

The scary part was how right it had felt, as if something deep inside her had recognized something inside him.

Just attraction , she told herself as she drove to the store. Simple chemistry. Nothing more .

But even she didn’t believe that lie.

Because nothing about Anders Hamilton—or her reaction to him—felt simple at all.

And some part of her, a part that felt ancient and wild and not entirely human—though that was insane, right? Because it couldn’t be real—whispered to her…

This is only the beginning .