Read Online AMAZON KINDLE VERSION A Siberian Werewolf In London EDITED 3 9 2012 by Caryn Moya Block - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Caryn Moya Block
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have Brencis at his side again. They were family.
"You and Valerii will share the other bedroom. Make sure the drapes are closed. I am sure we are being watched.”
"Dmitry found a townhome for us to rent. We can move in tomorrow.”
"Let us discuss it in the morning. I don't want you to wake up Melika.”
"So it is true, you have found a mate?" Brencis asked.
"Yes, you can meet her in the morning. Now go to bed, it is late.”
Valerii and Brencis watched in amazement as Grigori turned and walked into the bedroom and closed the door. They looked at each other and smiled when they heard the lock snap into place.
"Come on Brencis, we might as well do what he says and get some sleep.”
"So much for the warm welcome of family,” Brencis said, glowering at the door.
"Hey, you got a hug. Now come on. You can tell his mind is on other things.”
"I guess you're right.”
"You know how males get after mating. All they can think about is their woman.”
"Yeah, and Grigori's woman is in danger, so he's going to be worse.”
"Yeah, should be fun. Now, I need some sleep. I didn’t sleep a wink on the plane.”
CHAPTER SIX
Melisande woke up and frowned at the clock. It was nearly ten, and she was still in bed. She looked around the darkened room and didn't see Grigori anywhere. But somehow she was sure he was close by. Stretching, she threw back the covers and headed for the bathroom and a nice shower.
She turned on the water, then stepped inside the shower stall and reached for the shampoo. As the water rained down, she began to think about what she needed to accomplish today. She couldn’t stop living because some mad man wanted to kill her. She needed to mail her samples back to the lab at the Smithsonian and start writing her report for Lady Ashtown.
Putting her head under the spray, she ran her hands through her soapy hair. Grigori must think she was one of those weak women who cry at the drop of a hat. She decided right then to get a grip and toughen up. Having a lunatic assassin after you was not something to crack up about. No more tears. She could handle this.
Reaching for the bar of lavender soap, Melisande realized that sometime during her trip she was supposed to call her cousin Lord Andrew Barras and meet him for dinner. Her mother made her promise to visit with him while here in London. If she didn’t call him, her mother would scold, and she’d never hear the end of it. Still pondering, she rinsed her face and continued to wash.
Melisande didn’t even know what her cousin looked like anymore. The last time she’d seen him she was a young girl visiting her grandfather's estate in Gloucestershire. Andrew had been a tall skinny boy, full of his own importance, who liked to boss her around.
Melisande went out of her way to cause trouble for the poor guy that summer. One of her favorite memories was tricking Andrew to chase her around the stable and through the fields. Andrew ended up falling in a mud pit and getting covered from head to toe, as she planned. She’d laughed so hard she cried. She must admit Andrew had been a good sport about it and laughed with her. He wasn’t as stuffy as he pretended. But that was then, what about now?
Melisande wondered if Lady Ashtown would be more impressed with her if she knew Melisande's mother was the daughter of a deceased English Baron. Of course, her mother marrying an American didn’t sit well with her British relatives. But with almost forty-two years of marriage behind them, Melisande's parents had proved their love was here to stay.
Melisande had always wanted a marriage like her parents’. Her father adored her mother. As she thought about it, didn’t she see the same look of adoration in Grigori's eyes when he looked at her? Maybe she would have a happily-ever-after as her parents did, as long as she and Grigori stayed away from Pavel Funenko. Finished with her shower, she turned off the water, grabbed a towel, and started to dry
"You and Valerii will share the other bedroom. Make sure the drapes are closed. I am sure we are being watched.”
"Dmitry found a townhome for us to rent. We can move in tomorrow.”
"Let us discuss it in the morning. I don't want you to wake up Melika.”
"So it is true, you have found a mate?" Brencis asked.
"Yes, you can meet her in the morning. Now go to bed, it is late.”
Valerii and Brencis watched in amazement as Grigori turned and walked into the bedroom and closed the door. They looked at each other and smiled when they heard the lock snap into place.
"Come on Brencis, we might as well do what he says and get some sleep.”
"So much for the warm welcome of family,” Brencis said, glowering at the door.
"Hey, you got a hug. Now come on. You can tell his mind is on other things.”
"I guess you're right.”
"You know how males get after mating. All they can think about is their woman.”
"Yeah, and Grigori's woman is in danger, so he's going to be worse.”
"Yeah, should be fun. Now, I need some sleep. I didn’t sleep a wink on the plane.”
CHAPTER SIX
Melisande woke up and frowned at the clock. It was nearly ten, and she was still in bed. She looked around the darkened room and didn't see Grigori anywhere. But somehow she was sure he was close by. Stretching, she threw back the covers and headed for the bathroom and a nice shower.
She turned on the water, then stepped inside the shower stall and reached for the shampoo. As the water rained down, she began to think about what she needed to accomplish today. She couldn’t stop living because some mad man wanted to kill her. She needed to mail her samples back to the lab at the Smithsonian and start writing her report for Lady Ashtown.
Putting her head under the spray, she ran her hands through her soapy hair. Grigori must think she was one of those weak women who cry at the drop of a hat. She decided right then to get a grip and toughen up. Having a lunatic assassin after you was not something to crack up about. No more tears. She could handle this.
Reaching for the bar of lavender soap, Melisande realized that sometime during her trip she was supposed to call her cousin Lord Andrew Barras and meet him for dinner. Her mother made her promise to visit with him while here in London. If she didn’t call him, her mother would scold, and she’d never hear the end of it. Still pondering, she rinsed her face and continued to wash.
Melisande didn’t even know what her cousin looked like anymore. The last time she’d seen him she was a young girl visiting her grandfather's estate in Gloucestershire. Andrew had been a tall skinny boy, full of his own importance, who liked to boss her around.
Melisande went out of her way to cause trouble for the poor guy that summer. One of her favorite memories was tricking Andrew to chase her around the stable and through the fields. Andrew ended up falling in a mud pit and getting covered from head to toe, as she planned. She’d laughed so hard she cried. She must admit Andrew had been a good sport about it and laughed with her. He wasn’t as stuffy as he pretended. But that was then, what about now?
Melisande wondered if Lady Ashtown would be more impressed with her if she knew Melisande's mother was the daughter of a deceased English Baron. Of course, her mother marrying an American didn’t sit well with her British relatives. But with almost forty-two years of marriage behind them, Melisande's parents had proved their love was here to stay.
Melisande had always wanted a marriage like her parents’. Her father adored her mother. As she thought about it, didn’t she see the same look of adoration in Grigori's eyes when he looked at her? Maybe she would have a happily-ever-after as her parents did, as long as she and Grigori stayed away from Pavel Funenko. Finished with her shower, she turned off the water, grabbed a towel, and started to dry
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