Read Online Love at First Bite by Susan Squires - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Susan Squires
Tags: Fiction, General, Erótica, Romance, Fantasy, Contemporary, Paranormal, Short Stories, Love Stories, American, supernatural, Vampires, Paranormal Fiction
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a coat and waistcoat. The hardness of his body beneath his shirt and the exotic scent of cinnamon he wore combined to assault her senses.
But he'd asked a question. What was she doing here? And she'd never really thought what she would tell him. He held her away from his body and looked at her with hungry eyes. His gaze roved over her and stopped at her hair. "Oh," she said apologetically, shaking her head, now full of unruly blonde curls. "I cut off all my hair to make the signs."
Davie gave a lopsided smile. "I like it." Then his grin collapsed. "Oh, Emma, it's too dangerous here. You shouldn't have come!"
She couldn't avoid this. "I… I couldn't sit at home and let you face… whatever it was you were facing. And don't you dare tell me I'm only a woman and I couldn't help." She felt a strange anger rising in her breast. What was she angry at? That he put himself in danger? That he hadn't offered for her? That he hadn't had the courage of his convictions…
She gathered herself. "If you don't love me, Major Vernon Davis Ware, tell me straight out and I'll go home. But if you do…
then we belong together, no matter the circumstance. I'll not be a burden on you. And I'll stay out of the way. But I can help you; I know I can."
He looked at her with such intensity in his eyes it made her feel faint. He seemed so… alive. He was magnetic, hypnotic even.
Had he been this attractive when she'd last seen him? It must be the air of danger that made him seem to vibrate with energy.
"This isn't a diplomatic mission, Emma. It's a war."
"Plenty of women follow the drum." She swallowed. "I'll work in the hospital with your wounded. I've volunteered in the hospital in London, you know. Or I'll cook, or I'll wash for your men. I'm not proud, Davie, and I'm not delicate."
He was running his hands up and down her arms from shoulders to elbows, apparently unaware that he did so. His gaze roamed the room. "Emma, Emma, you don't understand."
She grew surer of herself. "You must tell me you don't love me if you want me to leave."
"You know I love you," he almost snapped. "Or you wouldn't have come here…" He seemed to recollect himself. "Your reputation… did you have a companion? Your brother?"
"I hired two females and a retired officer as escort." He looked relieved. Well, he'd better know the worst. "I dismissed them in Gibraltar. How could I bring them here with all the rumors of blood in the streets?" Now distress furrowed his brow. "I don't care a jot for my reputation, Davie. I love you. I'll bind your wounds, and barter my jewels for chickens for your stew. I can't stay at home going to parties where the worst thing anyone can imagine is that Lady Jersey is with someone else's child again.
And don't think I'll ever love anybody but you. You were talking nonsense that day in Grosvenor Square. If you won't have me, I'll go to Paris or Vienna and set up on my own and I'll die without knowing the joys of marriage. I won't settle for some loveless union with a duke or a poet."
He smiled ruefully and sighed. Then he touched her cheek with the back of his index finger and stroked gently. "My brave, rebellious Emma. You always did have more courage than any ten girls put together."
She wished he would take her in his arms again. As a matter of fact, she wished he would do more. She wanted to cross some line from which she couldn't retreat. In spite of her brave words, she needed to put England and home and small social concerns beyond her reach, to remove any risk that she might just run home with her tail between her legs if the going got rough. Today in Casablanca she had realized that the going might get very rough. She wanted to leave who she was behind entirely. She slid her hand up behind his neck and pulled him down to her. He looked… well, frightened. She brushed her lips across his, not quite believing she could be this bold. She really was a rebel!
"Emma," he breathed into her mouth. "You don't know… what I
But he'd asked a question. What was she doing here? And she'd never really thought what she would tell him. He held her away from his body and looked at her with hungry eyes. His gaze roved over her and stopped at her hair. "Oh," she said apologetically, shaking her head, now full of unruly blonde curls. "I cut off all my hair to make the signs."
Davie gave a lopsided smile. "I like it." Then his grin collapsed. "Oh, Emma, it's too dangerous here. You shouldn't have come!"
She couldn't avoid this. "I… I couldn't sit at home and let you face… whatever it was you were facing. And don't you dare tell me I'm only a woman and I couldn't help." She felt a strange anger rising in her breast. What was she angry at? That he put himself in danger? That he hadn't offered for her? That he hadn't had the courage of his convictions…
She gathered herself. "If you don't love me, Major Vernon Davis Ware, tell me straight out and I'll go home. But if you do…
then we belong together, no matter the circumstance. I'll not be a burden on you. And I'll stay out of the way. But I can help you; I know I can."
He looked at her with such intensity in his eyes it made her feel faint. He seemed so… alive. He was magnetic, hypnotic even.
Had he been this attractive when she'd last seen him? It must be the air of danger that made him seem to vibrate with energy.
"This isn't a diplomatic mission, Emma. It's a war."
"Plenty of women follow the drum." She swallowed. "I'll work in the hospital with your wounded. I've volunteered in the hospital in London, you know. Or I'll cook, or I'll wash for your men. I'm not proud, Davie, and I'm not delicate."
He was running his hands up and down her arms from shoulders to elbows, apparently unaware that he did so. His gaze roamed the room. "Emma, Emma, you don't understand."
She grew surer of herself. "You must tell me you don't love me if you want me to leave."
"You know I love you," he almost snapped. "Or you wouldn't have come here…" He seemed to recollect himself. "Your reputation… did you have a companion? Your brother?"
"I hired two females and a retired officer as escort." He looked relieved. Well, he'd better know the worst. "I dismissed them in Gibraltar. How could I bring them here with all the rumors of blood in the streets?" Now distress furrowed his brow. "I don't care a jot for my reputation, Davie. I love you. I'll bind your wounds, and barter my jewels for chickens for your stew. I can't stay at home going to parties where the worst thing anyone can imagine is that Lady Jersey is with someone else's child again.
And don't think I'll ever love anybody but you. You were talking nonsense that day in Grosvenor Square. If you won't have me, I'll go to Paris or Vienna and set up on my own and I'll die without knowing the joys of marriage. I won't settle for some loveless union with a duke or a poet."
He smiled ruefully and sighed. Then he touched her cheek with the back of his index finger and stroked gently. "My brave, rebellious Emma. You always did have more courage than any ten girls put together."
She wished he would take her in his arms again. As a matter of fact, she wished he would do more. She wanted to cross some line from which she couldn't retreat. In spite of her brave words, she needed to put England and home and small social concerns beyond her reach, to remove any risk that she might just run home with her tail between her legs if the going got rough. Today in Casablanca she had realized that the going might get very rough. She wanted to leave who she was behind entirely. She slid her hand up behind his neck and pulled him down to her. He looked… well, frightened. She brushed her lips across his, not quite believing she could be this bold. She really was a rebel!
"Emma," he breathed into her mouth. "You don't know… what I
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