Read Online Captive Moon by C. T. Adams, Cathy Clamp - Free Book Online
Authors: C. T. Adams, Cathy Clamp
Tags: Romance:Paranormal
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to believe what the Sazi had said.
“Tahira? Are you all right?” She turned away from the window, startled. Antoine was holding a crystal glass half filled with pink liquid. He held it out to her. “The blush was open, but if you prefer red or white, I can uncork a new bottle.”
She took the glass from his hand, again noticing the tingling of her skin when it touched him. The air around him seemed almost electric, as though her hair should be standing on end. “No, blush is fine. Thanks.”
He nodded slightly and smiled. “Would you like to meet the others, or would you prefer to be alone for a bit? We could move to another room.”
She turned and saw two other people in the room. The woman had short honey-colored hair and bright blue eyes behind small rectangle glasses. The man who was just entering through the far doorway was carrying half a dozen beer bottles of a brand she didn’t recognize. He moved with an easy swagger and his tanned, leathery skin spoke of countless hours in the sun. He seemed to exude that same devil-maycare attitude of some surfers she knew from back home.
“No, no, you shouldn’t have to leave. But I’m really tired still, so I might just sit by the fire and listen if that’s okay.”
He inclined his head just a bit and stepped back. “But of course. Whatever you wish.” He walked over to the bar once more and removed a brandy snifter that was warming over a small alcohol heater. He swirled the small quantity of amber liquid around the wide bottom for a moment to cool it. He waved the glass under his nose and sighed.
The dark-haired man walked past her and set a beer bottle on the bar next to Antoine just as he drank down the contents. “There you go, mate. Something to wash the taste of that slop out of your mouth.”
Antoine laughed and put the glass back on the bar. He snuffed out the flame and picked up the open beer. “That ‘slop’ is hundred-year-old cognac, Matty. You know full well cognac is the main reason we even stopped in Stuttgart.”
The man named Matty flopped down on the chair and put his feet up on a low table with legs carved in the shape of dragons breathing fire. The honey-haired woman let out a strangled sound that caused him to roll his eyes and lower his feet back to the floor.
“Yeah. Some bloke found a bottle of old wine that you’re going to pay out your arse for, just to put it in a dusty vault under your house. Waste of money and good grog, mate.” He raised his bottle in salute.
“You need to stick with throw-downs. Just as right for a Sunday barbie in the backyard as an arvo in front of the telly watching the footy.”
Antoine’s eyes twinkled merrily as he stepped toward the couch and swept his hand to indicate that she should precede him. “First, let’s dispense with the formal introductions. Matty, Margo, this lovely young lady is Tahira Kuric. She’s a member of the Hayalet Kabile from California. She and her brother were staying with their grandparents in Turkey when the abduction took place.” He glanced at her for confirmation. “Correct?”
She was taking a sip of the wine and lowered the glass suddenly, since he seemed to be waiting for an answer. She was startled that he remembered everything she’d told him.
“Yes… um, that’s right.” She raised her hand and gave an embarrassed wave and then bit her lip for a second when Margo smiled and smelled of amusement. She set her jaw. No, I can do this. I managed debate club and school plays, and I’m an adult member of the habile. Time to grow up and play with the big cats.
Antoine dropped his chin a bit in acknowledgment. “The gentleman on the couch is Matthew Thompson. He’s a large animal veterinarian from Sydney, Australia, who cares for our cats.”
Matty tipped an imaginary hat, smiled quietly, and then popped the cap on his second beer. “G’day, Tahira. Sorry our introduction isn’t under more pleasant circumstances.”
She smiled at
“Tahira? Are you all right?” She turned away from the window, startled. Antoine was holding a crystal glass half filled with pink liquid. He held it out to her. “The blush was open, but if you prefer red or white, I can uncork a new bottle.”
She took the glass from his hand, again noticing the tingling of her skin when it touched him. The air around him seemed almost electric, as though her hair should be standing on end. “No, blush is fine. Thanks.”
He nodded slightly and smiled. “Would you like to meet the others, or would you prefer to be alone for a bit? We could move to another room.”
She turned and saw two other people in the room. The woman had short honey-colored hair and bright blue eyes behind small rectangle glasses. The man who was just entering through the far doorway was carrying half a dozen beer bottles of a brand she didn’t recognize. He moved with an easy swagger and his tanned, leathery skin spoke of countless hours in the sun. He seemed to exude that same devil-maycare attitude of some surfers she knew from back home.
“No, no, you shouldn’t have to leave. But I’m really tired still, so I might just sit by the fire and listen if that’s okay.”
He inclined his head just a bit and stepped back. “But of course. Whatever you wish.” He walked over to the bar once more and removed a brandy snifter that was warming over a small alcohol heater. He swirled the small quantity of amber liquid around the wide bottom for a moment to cool it. He waved the glass under his nose and sighed.
The dark-haired man walked past her and set a beer bottle on the bar next to Antoine just as he drank down the contents. “There you go, mate. Something to wash the taste of that slop out of your mouth.”
Antoine laughed and put the glass back on the bar. He snuffed out the flame and picked up the open beer. “That ‘slop’ is hundred-year-old cognac, Matty. You know full well cognac is the main reason we even stopped in Stuttgart.”
The man named Matty flopped down on the chair and put his feet up on a low table with legs carved in the shape of dragons breathing fire. The honey-haired woman let out a strangled sound that caused him to roll his eyes and lower his feet back to the floor.
“Yeah. Some bloke found a bottle of old wine that you’re going to pay out your arse for, just to put it in a dusty vault under your house. Waste of money and good grog, mate.” He raised his bottle in salute.
“You need to stick with throw-downs. Just as right for a Sunday barbie in the backyard as an arvo in front of the telly watching the footy.”
Antoine’s eyes twinkled merrily as he stepped toward the couch and swept his hand to indicate that she should precede him. “First, let’s dispense with the formal introductions. Matty, Margo, this lovely young lady is Tahira Kuric. She’s a member of the Hayalet Kabile from California. She and her brother were staying with their grandparents in Turkey when the abduction took place.” He glanced at her for confirmation. “Correct?”
She was taking a sip of the wine and lowered the glass suddenly, since he seemed to be waiting for an answer. She was startled that he remembered everything she’d told him.
“Yes… um, that’s right.” She raised her hand and gave an embarrassed wave and then bit her lip for a second when Margo smiled and smelled of amusement. She set her jaw. No, I can do this. I managed debate club and school plays, and I’m an adult member of the habile. Time to grow up and play with the big cats.
Antoine dropped his chin a bit in acknowledgment. “The gentleman on the couch is Matthew Thompson. He’s a large animal veterinarian from Sydney, Australia, who cares for our cats.”
Matty tipped an imaginary hat, smiled quietly, and then popped the cap on his second beer. “G’day, Tahira. Sorry our introduction isn’t under more pleasant circumstances.”
She smiled at
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