Excerpt of Rapture Untamed by Pamela Palmer

Sneak Peek from Chapter 17

Olivia whirled on him so fast Jag took a fist to the nose
before he realized what she had in mind.

He laughed, but the sound was ugly. Anger ate him alive, a
mass of emotion he only knew two ways to get rid of – a
good old fashioned fight. Or sex.

He had a feeling he was about to get both.

Snagging Olivia around the waist, he lifted her up and
tossed her on the bed, then yanked off his shirt, intending
to follow her down, but her eyes flashed with fury and he
could see she’d had enough of being his slave. The storm
inside her contained not an ounce of fear. No, if he had to
guess, she was transferring grief. For another man. Which
pissed the hell out of him.

“He wasn’t good enough for you.” He dove on top of her,
careful to brace himself with his arms.

She slammed her knee between his thighs, but he clamped
them together, barely keeping her from unmanning him,
trapping her leg between his.

“He was a hell of a lot better man than you’ll ever be.”

A fist clenched inside him, driving his anger. “He was a
pansy-assed wuss who let you walk all over him.”

With a furious growl, she head-butted him, catching him in
the damn nose again. He reared back and she slipped out
from under him and launched herself at him, stronger than
any female had a right to be, especially one who barely
reached his shoulder.

His male instincts told him to be careful with her. His
breaking ribs told him she could handle whatever he dished
out.

He tackled her down. “Did you have feelings for him?”

She punched him in the jaw. “Of course I had feelings for
him! I’d known him for more than three hundred years. You
wouldn’t know feelings if they bit you in the ass!”

They fought, her throwing punches, him blocking most of
them. The bed creaked and swayed beneath them.

“Did you love him?”

“You know the answer to that. As a friend, yes, but you
know I didn’t return the feelings he had for me.” Her elbow
slammed into his solar plexis. “But so help me, if you
think I shouldn’t care…” Her heel drove hard into his
knee. “If you think I can just forget the sight of that
monster…” Her voice cracked. “So help me, Jag, I’m going to
beat your cold ass to hell and back.”

The bed collapsed beneath them with a crash. He rolled onto
his feet, but Olivia followed, spinning and slamming her
heel into his knee again, splintering his kneecap. With a
roar, he collapsed onto his other knee just as the door
burst open wide.

Tighe and Wulfe pushed inside, then halted in the doorway,
staring at the wreckage of the bed, him on his knees, blood
running down his face and his fire demon of a partner
standing over him about to drive her elbow into his skull.

Jag grinned. Goddess but he loved a strong woman. He wiped
the blood from his mouth and gave Tighe a jaunty salute.

Olivia whirled on the pair in the doorway, her eyes blazing
with unholy fire. “Unless you want to join the fight, get
the hell out of here.”

Tighe lifted his hands in quick surrender. “I’m gone.”

Wulfe, the bastard, grinned. “Don’t kill him.”

The respite had given his knee a chance to heal. As Wulfe
pulled the door closed behind him, Jag shot to his feet,
ready for another round. He loved a good fight and this one
had gotten his blood pumping, and at the same time given
him an outlet for the awful tension that had been riding
him ever since that goat fuck of a battle.

But Olivia’s eyes showed no such relief. Deep in those gray
depths, he could see her shattering. His heart clenched in
his chest as he understood. She fought the grief and her
own emotions more than she fought him. And while he’d
gladly let her beat the crap out of him if it helped her,
he could see it wasn’t helping at all.

The emotion needed another way out. The sheen in her eyes
told him that.

She launched herself at him again, but even as she did,
tears began to run down her cheeks, seeming to make her
madder. He let her get in a couple of good punches, then he
grabbed her in a bear hug and pressed her face against his
chest as she struggled.

“Let it out, Liv,” he said quietly. “You’re not going to
get rid of it until you give in. Just let it out.”

She fought him a moment more, her fists pummeling his
shoulders until the storm overtook her. Sobs wracked her
small body, her fists opening, her fingers clinging to him
as grief swept her away.

He felt a deep and sudden need to comfort her and didn’t
have a clue how to do it. He’d always been great at causing
anger. Soothing raging emotions was beyond him. He patted
her back awkwardly.

She buried her face tighter against him, clinging to him
harder, as if his attempts weren’t that awkward at all.

He lifted his hand and cupped her small head, holding it
tight against him. Deep inside his chest, he felt a
cracking of the ice that had for so long encased his heart.

He didn’t want that. Didn’t need it. But even as the
thought went through his head, his arms enclosed her in a
vise of a protective cage through which nothing would ever
harm her again.