Read Online CARNAL APPETITE by Celeste Anwar - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Celeste Anwar
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swallow.
“No, it hasn’t.”
Raoul grinned, wolfish. “You hate them as I do, as do we all.” He stood abruptly, pushing his chair back with a scraping rattle.
Navarre leaned back and stretched his arms behind his head as he watched him. “You could start a war.”
“Then let it begin.”
* * * *
It was impossible for Clara Falkner to be unaware of the strange man’s attention. At every turn, she could feel his gaze roaming her body as palpable as a caress. It was intimate. Almost ... hungry. And she enjoyed it. Never had she been a woman to garner admiring glances from a man. The chill of goosebumps made her shiver despite the cloying warmth of many bodies pressed close.
He’d been watching her for the past two days---ever since she’d arrived at Inferno with no knowledge of how she’d gotten there. It could be her memory loss and lethargy were just coincidental with the stranger’s regard, but for some reason that teased the edges of her brain, she didn’t think so. And it merely intrigued her all the more.
In the movements of the dance, she casually turned to peer through the haze to where she knew he sat, watching her. He was talking with another man she hadn’t noticed before, this one as fair as he was dark. He seemed to sense the moment her gaze alighted on him, for he looked up and caught her staring. Clara felt a shockwave jump between them as their eyes met.
She looked quickly away, breaking the contact, then glanced back when she thought it was safe. The hairs rose on the back of her neck as she saw him rise from his seat and stride purposefully across the room, allowing nothing to distract him from his goal.
Her mind immediately conjured an image of a wolf moving in for the kill.
And he was coming for her.
She knew it as surely as she knew her own mind. The scene seemed to play before her like a movie moving in slow motion. Agonizing seconds ticked by.
Her heart pounded in her chest, her blood pumping furiously through her veins, throbbing deafeningly in her ears. She knew she should run, knew she shouldn’t be so fascinated by the stranger, but she couldn’t. The dance was forgotten. Clara ceased moving at all, became deaf to the music thumping in her ears ... and ignored that warning, inner voice that had shielded her all her life. Unable to do anything, she could only watch him move toward her with the confidence of a predator claiming his quarry. The throng parted unconsciously at his approach, allowing him an unobstructed path straight toward her.
Despite his height and muscular breadth, he exuded a predatory grace that was unnerving. The black mesh shirt he wore left little to the imagination. Rather, it enhanced the bulging muscles of his chest and the rippled abdomen that tapered down to his lean, leather encased hips. A silver ring in his nipple, barely hidden by the mesh, glinted in the flashing lights. Strands of long, black hair fell across his forehead, over his broad shoulders, drawing her gaze. On another man, it might have appeared effeminate, but there was no mistaking his masculinity. And Clara had always responded to men with long hair.
Eager to study his face, which she’d been fearful of looking overlong at before, she lifted her gaze, past full, kissable lips and his straight nose, until she met his eyes and was caught. He held her like a trapped bird, hypnotized. The amber orbs almost seemed to glow with an inner fire. She was helpless to look away from him.
Inexplicably, she could feel her heart slowing its rapid tattoo, calming as he reached for her. He placed a hand behind her waist and pulled her flush against him, against the hard bulge of his erection. She was instantly aroused.
Sound returned, fear and excitement, as the music swelled and he moved with her in the dance. Clara draped her arms over his shoulders, rolling her body against him, her breasts pressing tantalizingly against his chest with each rocking movement. He cupped the cheeks of
“No, it hasn’t.”
Raoul grinned, wolfish. “You hate them as I do, as do we all.” He stood abruptly, pushing his chair back with a scraping rattle.
Navarre leaned back and stretched his arms behind his head as he watched him. “You could start a war.”
“Then let it begin.”
* * * *
It was impossible for Clara Falkner to be unaware of the strange man’s attention. At every turn, she could feel his gaze roaming her body as palpable as a caress. It was intimate. Almost ... hungry. And she enjoyed it. Never had she been a woman to garner admiring glances from a man. The chill of goosebumps made her shiver despite the cloying warmth of many bodies pressed close.
He’d been watching her for the past two days---ever since she’d arrived at Inferno with no knowledge of how she’d gotten there. It could be her memory loss and lethargy were just coincidental with the stranger’s regard, but for some reason that teased the edges of her brain, she didn’t think so. And it merely intrigued her all the more.
In the movements of the dance, she casually turned to peer through the haze to where she knew he sat, watching her. He was talking with another man she hadn’t noticed before, this one as fair as he was dark. He seemed to sense the moment her gaze alighted on him, for he looked up and caught her staring. Clara felt a shockwave jump between them as their eyes met.
She looked quickly away, breaking the contact, then glanced back when she thought it was safe. The hairs rose on the back of her neck as she saw him rise from his seat and stride purposefully across the room, allowing nothing to distract him from his goal.
Her mind immediately conjured an image of a wolf moving in for the kill.
And he was coming for her.
She knew it as surely as she knew her own mind. The scene seemed to play before her like a movie moving in slow motion. Agonizing seconds ticked by.
Her heart pounded in her chest, her blood pumping furiously through her veins, throbbing deafeningly in her ears. She knew she should run, knew she shouldn’t be so fascinated by the stranger, but she couldn’t. The dance was forgotten. Clara ceased moving at all, became deaf to the music thumping in her ears ... and ignored that warning, inner voice that had shielded her all her life. Unable to do anything, she could only watch him move toward her with the confidence of a predator claiming his quarry. The throng parted unconsciously at his approach, allowing him an unobstructed path straight toward her.
Despite his height and muscular breadth, he exuded a predatory grace that was unnerving. The black mesh shirt he wore left little to the imagination. Rather, it enhanced the bulging muscles of his chest and the rippled abdomen that tapered down to his lean, leather encased hips. A silver ring in his nipple, barely hidden by the mesh, glinted in the flashing lights. Strands of long, black hair fell across his forehead, over his broad shoulders, drawing her gaze. On another man, it might have appeared effeminate, but there was no mistaking his masculinity. And Clara had always responded to men with long hair.
Eager to study his face, which she’d been fearful of looking overlong at before, she lifted her gaze, past full, kissable lips and his straight nose, until she met his eyes and was caught. He held her like a trapped bird, hypnotized. The amber orbs almost seemed to glow with an inner fire. She was helpless to look away from him.
Inexplicably, she could feel her heart slowing its rapid tattoo, calming as he reached for her. He placed a hand behind her waist and pulled her flush against him, against the hard bulge of his erection. She was instantly aroused.
Sound returned, fear and excitement, as the music swelled and he moved with her in the dance. Clara draped her arms over his shoulders, rolling her body against him, her breasts pressing tantalizingly against his chest with each rocking movement. He cupped the cheeks of
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