Read Online Scratch the Surface (Wolf Within) by Amy Lee Burgess - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Amy Lee Burgess
Ads: Link
pumps—a Christmas present from Murphy.
I stood before the mirror fixing my bond pendant to the short silver chain I wore for evening events while Murphy stood just behind me making last-minute adjustments to his tie.
He had on a pair of black wool trousers and the white button-down shirt with blue pinstripes I’d gotten him at the Armani store in Houston. A black Giorgio tie with a tiny silver triangular pattern completed his look. He had a gray jacket tossed across the bottom of the bed. Thankfully he’d put aside his Timberland boots for a pair of black wing tips.
When I went to fasten the chain around my throat, he was there to do it for me and I gazed at us both in the mirror. He was so attentive and the way his eyelashes brushed his cheeks as he concentrated on his task, produced a strange longing inside me.
I’d rolled my hair into a sleek French knot held in place with a rhinestone clip. I looked far more sophisticated and at ease than I actually was.
“You are so beautiful.” Murphy sounded wistful as he stared at both of us in the mirror. “I look at you sometimes and I can’t even breathe, Stanzie. That’s how beautiful you are. I remember the first time I saw you coming to the table that night at the Great Gathering and I thought, Jaysus God, she’s gorgeous.”
I flushed. Every time he complimented me I had no idea how to take it. None at all.
“I thought you were so handsome,” I said. “And bored,” I added with a laugh. “And I seemed to bore you even more than you already were.”
“I wasn’t bored with you, I was intimidated,” he said with a grin.
“Oh, hell, Murphy, you and your Irish blarney. That’s such bullshit.” I clasped a silver chain link bracelet around my left wrist. Now I doubted the fact he’d thought I was gorgeous that first night. I hadn’t intimidated him the first night. He’d left the table the minute it had been revealed my bond mates were dead because everyone believed I was drunk behind the wheel. I’d made no effort to defend myself and I knew he’d been disgusted. He’d as much as told me later during the Gathering.
His dead bond mate, Sorcha, had been a fiery-haired red head and I’m sure she had been really, truly beautiful and people didn’t just tell her she was beautiful to compliment her, they actually meant it. I wished I could see a picture of her, but then again I didn’t. She was already stiff enough competition without me feeling absolutely hopeless in the face of her beauty.
“There’s not enough Irish blarney in the world to convince you I’m not using any when I compliment you.” He gave me a rueful smile then moved to switch off the gas fireplace.
I slid a few rings on my fingers and waited for him to put on his jacket.
It was five minutes to six and time to run the gauntlet.
Chapter 6
We found Kathy Manning and Councilor Allerton seated together on a light brown sectional sofa beneath a large framed picture of the Hartford skyline at night. The photo had been artificially enhanced and tiny electrified lights had been inserted around the buildings with a realistic and modernist result.
The long, low coffee table in front of the sectional sofa was spread with plates of cheese and crackers, bowls of mixed nuts, an olive-and-pickle tray and a plate of three different kinds of handmade canapes—slices of cucumber topped with smoked salmon and cream cheese, cheese and olives topped with maraschino cherries speared to small round pieces of homemade sourdough bread with toothpicks, and ham, cheese and stuffed olives on cracked wheat crackers.
A drinks cart had been wheeled in and left in a strategic corner. It held iced buckets of champagne and white and red wine, gin, whiskey, rye and mixers.
Allerton had a plate heaped with all three kinds of canapes in one hand, a glass of chilled Riesling in the other.
Kathy had swapped her conservative wool trousers and vest for a severe, high-necked black halter dress
I stood before the mirror fixing my bond pendant to the short silver chain I wore for evening events while Murphy stood just behind me making last-minute adjustments to his tie.
He had on a pair of black wool trousers and the white button-down shirt with blue pinstripes I’d gotten him at the Armani store in Houston. A black Giorgio tie with a tiny silver triangular pattern completed his look. He had a gray jacket tossed across the bottom of the bed. Thankfully he’d put aside his Timberland boots for a pair of black wing tips.
When I went to fasten the chain around my throat, he was there to do it for me and I gazed at us both in the mirror. He was so attentive and the way his eyelashes brushed his cheeks as he concentrated on his task, produced a strange longing inside me.
I’d rolled my hair into a sleek French knot held in place with a rhinestone clip. I looked far more sophisticated and at ease than I actually was.
“You are so beautiful.” Murphy sounded wistful as he stared at both of us in the mirror. “I look at you sometimes and I can’t even breathe, Stanzie. That’s how beautiful you are. I remember the first time I saw you coming to the table that night at the Great Gathering and I thought, Jaysus God, she’s gorgeous.”
I flushed. Every time he complimented me I had no idea how to take it. None at all.
“I thought you were so handsome,” I said. “And bored,” I added with a laugh. “And I seemed to bore you even more than you already were.”
“I wasn’t bored with you, I was intimidated,” he said with a grin.
“Oh, hell, Murphy, you and your Irish blarney. That’s such bullshit.” I clasped a silver chain link bracelet around my left wrist. Now I doubted the fact he’d thought I was gorgeous that first night. I hadn’t intimidated him the first night. He’d left the table the minute it had been revealed my bond mates were dead because everyone believed I was drunk behind the wheel. I’d made no effort to defend myself and I knew he’d been disgusted. He’d as much as told me later during the Gathering.
His dead bond mate, Sorcha, had been a fiery-haired red head and I’m sure she had been really, truly beautiful and people didn’t just tell her she was beautiful to compliment her, they actually meant it. I wished I could see a picture of her, but then again I didn’t. She was already stiff enough competition without me feeling absolutely hopeless in the face of her beauty.
“There’s not enough Irish blarney in the world to convince you I’m not using any when I compliment you.” He gave me a rueful smile then moved to switch off the gas fireplace.
I slid a few rings on my fingers and waited for him to put on his jacket.
It was five minutes to six and time to run the gauntlet.
Chapter 6
We found Kathy Manning and Councilor Allerton seated together on a light brown sectional sofa beneath a large framed picture of the Hartford skyline at night. The photo had been artificially enhanced and tiny electrified lights had been inserted around the buildings with a realistic and modernist result.
The long, low coffee table in front of the sectional sofa was spread with plates of cheese and crackers, bowls of mixed nuts, an olive-and-pickle tray and a plate of three different kinds of handmade canapes—slices of cucumber topped with smoked salmon and cream cheese, cheese and olives topped with maraschino cherries speared to small round pieces of homemade sourdough bread with toothpicks, and ham, cheese and stuffed olives on cracked wheat crackers.
A drinks cart had been wheeled in and left in a strategic corner. It held iced buckets of champagne and white and red wine, gin, whiskey, rye and mixers.
Allerton had a plate heaped with all three kinds of canapes in one hand, a glass of chilled Riesling in the other.
Kathy had swapped her conservative wool trousers and vest for a severe, high-necked black halter dress
Similar Books
