Read Online Redemption (The Penton Vampire Legacy) by Susannah Sandlin - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Susannah Sandlin
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through her as a montage of images flashed across her mind—frantic kisses, silvery blue eyes, her hands in thick, dark hair, his mouth on her...everywhere. She pulled thequilt tightly around her. It hadn’t been a dream. The son of a bitch had taken advantage of her. Sort of. Maybe.
Except, other images were there, too, igniting her skin.
Did he take advantage of you, or did you practically attack the man?
She remembered pulling his body against hers, kissing him, urging him to take her, ripping off that stupid red T-shirt. She’d practically begged him, except—damn it—she didn’t do stuff like that. She was the one who stayed home on off-rotation nights because she knew she’d never fit in with the other med students or residents. The one whose daddy complex was so screwed up that she’d never enjoyed sex. The one whose idea of a club was a
book
club, for God’s sake.
She wasn’t sexy enough for the likes of Aidan Murphy, and she’d never have done the things she was remembering. She might want to, but she’d never have the guts.
Scalp-crawling tinges of panic overcame Krys for the first time since she’d left home at eighteen, when the bellow of her father’s voice from across the house would bring on the shakes. Her breathing came in short bursts, lack of oxygen making the room spin.
Think, Krys.
One of the first things she’d learned after leaving home was how to relax into the panic. She took in a lungful of air, released it slowly, repeated the process. So what if she’d thrown herself at a man she barely knew and couldn’t quite remember the details? Fainting from hyperventilation wouldn’t help.
What would help was a plan. And a quick trip back to Americus—no way Aidan Murphy would want to hire her now. She could never look him in the eye again.
First, clothes. Nobody could think straight sitting naked in a strange room. She’d get dressed and get out of here, go to the LaFayette motel and get her stuff, and then try to piece togetherwhat had happened once she got the hell out of Penton, assuming that’s where she was.
Krys wrapped the quilt around her like a big, overly padded towel, and looked around the room for her suit—and her purse and briefcase.
And where was her car?
She set aside the alarming idea that the Dinosaur might still be sitting in that Quikmart parking lot. Clothes first.
She spotted the dark brown suit skirt and white blouse thrown across an armchair in the corner of the room. The bedroom alone was the size of her entire apartment in Americus. Not to mention nicer, with better furnishings. Besides the cherry four-poster bed with its carved headboard, there was a matching nightstand, a dresser with a mirror, and two armchairs. There were three cherrywood doors in two of the walls. A flat-screen TV hung over an unlit fireplace filled with gas logs. A sofa, chair, and coffee table faced the fireplace, forming a small sitting area. It looked like the fancy boutique hotel she’d stayed in at her one and only medical conference—when her med school had footed the bill. If Penton had this kind of lodging, why had they stuck her more than ten miles away at the dumpy LaFayette Motor Inn?
Still practicing her deep breathing, Krys spotted her purse on the dresser and her shoes underneath the armchair. She was in business.
Bra. Skirt. Blouse. She felt better with her clothes on, wrinkles and all. She picked the pantyhose up, considering. No, those she’d ripped all by herself. She’d just have to go bare-legged and hope it wasn’t too cold.
The wooden door next to the chair didn’t have a notice on it like hotel rooms were required to post, so this must be a privateguesthouse. She grasped the ornate brass knob and pulled, planning to poke her head out and see if she recognized anything. The door wouldn’t budge. She squatted, looking for a thumb-latch or keycard slot. Weird. She pulled on the door again, but it was solid and heavy. And locked from the outside with
Except, other images were there, too, igniting her skin.
Did he take advantage of you, or did you practically attack the man?
She remembered pulling his body against hers, kissing him, urging him to take her, ripping off that stupid red T-shirt. She’d practically begged him, except—damn it—she didn’t do stuff like that. She was the one who stayed home on off-rotation nights because she knew she’d never fit in with the other med students or residents. The one whose daddy complex was so screwed up that she’d never enjoyed sex. The one whose idea of a club was a
book
club, for God’s sake.
She wasn’t sexy enough for the likes of Aidan Murphy, and she’d never have done the things she was remembering. She might want to, but she’d never have the guts.
Scalp-crawling tinges of panic overcame Krys for the first time since she’d left home at eighteen, when the bellow of her father’s voice from across the house would bring on the shakes. Her breathing came in short bursts, lack of oxygen making the room spin.
Think, Krys.
One of the first things she’d learned after leaving home was how to relax into the panic. She took in a lungful of air, released it slowly, repeated the process. So what if she’d thrown herself at a man she barely knew and couldn’t quite remember the details? Fainting from hyperventilation wouldn’t help.
What would help was a plan. And a quick trip back to Americus—no way Aidan Murphy would want to hire her now. She could never look him in the eye again.
First, clothes. Nobody could think straight sitting naked in a strange room. She’d get dressed and get out of here, go to the LaFayette motel and get her stuff, and then try to piece togetherwhat had happened once she got the hell out of Penton, assuming that’s where she was.
Krys wrapped the quilt around her like a big, overly padded towel, and looked around the room for her suit—and her purse and briefcase.
And where was her car?
She set aside the alarming idea that the Dinosaur might still be sitting in that Quikmart parking lot. Clothes first.
She spotted the dark brown suit skirt and white blouse thrown across an armchair in the corner of the room. The bedroom alone was the size of her entire apartment in Americus. Not to mention nicer, with better furnishings. Besides the cherry four-poster bed with its carved headboard, there was a matching nightstand, a dresser with a mirror, and two armchairs. There were three cherrywood doors in two of the walls. A flat-screen TV hung over an unlit fireplace filled with gas logs. A sofa, chair, and coffee table faced the fireplace, forming a small sitting area. It looked like the fancy boutique hotel she’d stayed in at her one and only medical conference—when her med school had footed the bill. If Penton had this kind of lodging, why had they stuck her more than ten miles away at the dumpy LaFayette Motor Inn?
Still practicing her deep breathing, Krys spotted her purse on the dresser and her shoes underneath the armchair. She was in business.
Bra. Skirt. Blouse. She felt better with her clothes on, wrinkles and all. She picked the pantyhose up, considering. No, those she’d ripped all by herself. She’d just have to go bare-legged and hope it wasn’t too cold.
The wooden door next to the chair didn’t have a notice on it like hotel rooms were required to post, so this must be a privateguesthouse. She grasped the ornate brass knob and pulled, planning to poke her head out and see if she recognized anything. The door wouldn’t budge. She squatted, looking for a thumb-latch or keycard slot. Weird. She pulled on the door again, but it was solid and heavy. And locked from the outside with
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