the tears pricking behind her eyes spill over. “Because I think I’m dying. I think I’ve got a brain tumor, and it’s getting bad fast. I can’t remember anything. I don’t know how I got here or how long I’ve been here or how I got into these clothes.”
She plucked at the white cotton shirt that hung off one shoulder and billowed around her like a toga sheet. Oh! And it clearly showed her dark areolas and stiff nipples.
Gack , how embarrassing! She quickly folded her arms over her breasts, hiding them as best she could. But there was no doubt Sebastian had already seen them. How could he not, even without super-duper vampire vision?
He rolled his eyes at her, but not before she noticed his gaze flicking over her barely hidden upper assets.
“You don’t have a brain tumor,” he told her in a nearscoff.
She gave him a cross look before snapping, “How do you know? Are you a doctor, as well as a wealthy casino owner and clandestine bloodsucker?”
“I’m not a doctor, no,” he said slowly.
Chuck waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t. And even though she could feel the tumor growing exponentially inside her head with every second that ticked by, some of her brain cells were still in tip-top shape.
“Oh, my God,” she murmured. “You’re telling me . . . You’re telling me that you’re not a doctor, but you are a wealthy casino owner . . . and a vampire.”
When he didn’t respond to that accusation, either, simply continued to stand there, staring at her with those strangely eerie shadow-gray eyes, she knew she was right.
“I knew it!” she crowed, hopping up on her knees and bouncing like a schoolgirl at a sleepover. “I knew it. I was right.”
And then sensibility returned, and she realized where she was . . . and what her sudden knowledge could mean to her dubious future.
Falling back on her heels, she went still. “Are you going to kill me now that I know?” she asked in a low voice. It didn’t waver, which was nice, even though inside she had begun to shake.
One corner of his mouth lifted in momentary amusement. “No, I’m not going to kill you.”
He stepped toward her, his face once again a flat, unreadable mask. To her credit, she stayed where she was instead of doing the first-girl-to-trip-and-die horror movie shriek and scuttling to the other side of the bed.
But she watched him. Watched his sleek, muscular frame flow like water beneath the immaculate cut of his silken, almost metallic suit. His dark hair was perfectly styled, and his skin was light, but not too light. It was clear he didn’t spend much time out in the hot Las Vegas sun, but he wasn’t as pale as parchment paper, either.
Stopping just beside the bed, he let his long fingers trail along the edge of the navy spread, his attention focused with odd intent on the pattern of stitching he found there.
“First, I’d like to know why you suspect me of being a vampire,” he said, “and then I’m going to do something I’ve never done before.”
At that, he lifted his head, meeting her gaze head-on. Her stomach lurched and butterflies took flight. But not because she was nervous or he scared her. She was very much afraid the sensations swamping her were due to . . . sexual attraction.
No surprise there, not really. Even if Sebastian was a member of the blood-chugging elite, he also happened to be extremely hawt . Tall, Dark, and Handsome with a capital T, D, and H.
She licked her lips, doing her best to stifle the unexpected and long-absent yearning prickling beneath her skin. “What’s that?” she asked, although she was almost afraid to know.
“I’m going to tell you everything.”
Sebastian had spent the entire time he’d waited for Charlotte—Chuck—to swim back to consciousness trying to decide what to do with her.
He knew what he should do: Take her home, wipe her mind of any recollection of her interactions with him, and go after the Lamoreaux sister he’d meant to grab in the
She plucked at the white cotton shirt that hung off one shoulder and billowed around her like a toga sheet. Oh! And it clearly showed her dark areolas and stiff nipples.
Gack , how embarrassing! She quickly folded her arms over her breasts, hiding them as best she could. But there was no doubt Sebastian had already seen them. How could he not, even without super-duper vampire vision?
He rolled his eyes at her, but not before she noticed his gaze flicking over her barely hidden upper assets.
“You don’t have a brain tumor,” he told her in a nearscoff.
She gave him a cross look before snapping, “How do you know? Are you a doctor, as well as a wealthy casino owner and clandestine bloodsucker?”
“I’m not a doctor, no,” he said slowly.
Chuck waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t. And even though she could feel the tumor growing exponentially inside her head with every second that ticked by, some of her brain cells were still in tip-top shape.
“Oh, my God,” she murmured. “You’re telling me . . . You’re telling me that you’re not a doctor, but you are a wealthy casino owner . . . and a vampire.”
When he didn’t respond to that accusation, either, simply continued to stand there, staring at her with those strangely eerie shadow-gray eyes, she knew she was right.
“I knew it!” she crowed, hopping up on her knees and bouncing like a schoolgirl at a sleepover. “I knew it. I was right.”
And then sensibility returned, and she realized where she was . . . and what her sudden knowledge could mean to her dubious future.
Falling back on her heels, she went still. “Are you going to kill me now that I know?” she asked in a low voice. It didn’t waver, which was nice, even though inside she had begun to shake.
One corner of his mouth lifted in momentary amusement. “No, I’m not going to kill you.”
He stepped toward her, his face once again a flat, unreadable mask. To her credit, she stayed where she was instead of doing the first-girl-to-trip-and-die horror movie shriek and scuttling to the other side of the bed.
But she watched him. Watched his sleek, muscular frame flow like water beneath the immaculate cut of his silken, almost metallic suit. His dark hair was perfectly styled, and his skin was light, but not too light. It was clear he didn’t spend much time out in the hot Las Vegas sun, but he wasn’t as pale as parchment paper, either.
Stopping just beside the bed, he let his long fingers trail along the edge of the navy spread, his attention focused with odd intent on the pattern of stitching he found there.
“First, I’d like to know why you suspect me of being a vampire,” he said, “and then I’m going to do something I’ve never done before.”
At that, he lifted his head, meeting her gaze head-on. Her stomach lurched and butterflies took flight. But not because she was nervous or he scared her. She was very much afraid the sensations swamping her were due to . . . sexual attraction.
No surprise there, not really. Even if Sebastian was a member of the blood-chugging elite, he also happened to be extremely hawt . Tall, Dark, and Handsome with a capital T, D, and H.
She licked her lips, doing her best to stifle the unexpected and long-absent yearning prickling beneath her skin. “What’s that?” she asked, although she was almost afraid to know.
“I’m going to tell you everything.”
Sebastian had spent the entire time he’d waited for Charlotte—Chuck—to swim back to consciousness trying to decide what to do with her.
He knew what he should do: Take her home, wipe her mind of any recollection of her interactions with him, and go after the Lamoreaux sister he’d meant to grab in the
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