Read Online Sweetblood 02.5 - Enchanted by Blood by Laurie London - Free Book Online
Authors: Laurie London
Tags: Fiction, Suspense, Romance, Paranormal, Man-Woman Relationships, Love Stories, Occult fiction, Vampires, Christmas stories, Paranormal Romance Stories
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an effort to regain some control. “I suppose I was.”
With his lips parted slightly, he examined her face slowly. Her earrings, her hair, her forehead, her chin. When he stretched out his arm to her, she stilled. But instead of touching her, drawing her close, he reached past her to fish a piece of candy from a crystal bowl on the table. As he unwrapped it, she saw the faintest hint of a smile. Like he knew precisely the effect he was having on her and was enjoying every minute.
“Rest assured,” he said. “I couldn’t not pay attention to you even if I tried.” Then he turned and she had no choice but to follow him out of the room.
He took her down a wide, window-filled gallery, and Charlotte tried to focus on what she was hired to do, rather than on her hot tour guide. Curiously, all the windows were outfitted with retractable shutters. If she hadn’t been examining all the details, she may not have noticed them because the windows were unshuttered now, the blackness outside pressing against the panes.
When they entered the library, her heart rate jumped. The walls were lined with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. A ladder on a track reached to the second set of shelves above them. Everywhere she looked, there were books. Probably more than some small-town libraries could boast.
The atmosphere seemed charged, almost electric. Like the room was filled with possibilities. Which, she supposed, was accurate.
Needing a distraction, she examined the large antique desk set at an angle near the window. The top was well polished, the scrollwork on the front exquisite. It had to be several hundred years old. She ran her hands over the wood and for some ungodly reason, she found herself wondering if any of its owners had ever had sex on it. It would’ve been unplanned, of course. Sex on a hard surface wasn’t something one set out to do. It would’ve happened spontaneously.
Her belly tightened, heat concentrating between her legs.
What was wrong with her? Her imagination. These sensations. Clearly, her night with Trace had addled her brain, had left her completely out of sorts.
Despite her efforts to control them, images from the other night kept appearing in her head. She and Trace had made love several times. At first, she’d been fully clothed with only her panties gone. He’d paused only long enough to drop his trousers before he was on top of her. The whole experience had been deliciously naughty. But instead of leaving afterward, as she half expected him to do, he’d undressed her and made love to her again.
This time, with her on top.
Had she really told him she didn’t think he’d fit? She tried not to smile at how silly that sounded now. Chewing at her lip, she walked around to the far side of the desk. Every man must dream of a woman saying that to him. Although she’d have to imagine she probably wasn’t the first woman to say it to Trace. He hadn’t acted all that surprised, just pleased.
Goose bumps sprang up on her arms at the memory of him. He’d been slow and surprisingly gentle at first. One thing she was sure of: it was a night she wouldn’t soon forget.
“So how do you envision decorating this room?” he asked.
She gathered her wits about her, took a deep breath, and turned to face him. With his arms crossed, he’d been watching her, a dark expression on his face. Anger? Irritation? Boredom? He seemed so emotionally closed off now, like he’d suddenly erected a wall between them. What was going on with him? She could’ve sworn he’d been warming up to her. Or maybe it was just her wishful imagination. She stifled her disappointment and had to remind herself that a relationship with a client wasn’t a good idea anyway.
“Given that your event is right around the corner, there won’t be time to place any orders,” she said to Trace as she chewed on her pencil. “I’ll have to make do with what we have. Where do you keep your holiday decorations?”
“We’ve got a storage
With his lips parted slightly, he examined her face slowly. Her earrings, her hair, her forehead, her chin. When he stretched out his arm to her, she stilled. But instead of touching her, drawing her close, he reached past her to fish a piece of candy from a crystal bowl on the table. As he unwrapped it, she saw the faintest hint of a smile. Like he knew precisely the effect he was having on her and was enjoying every minute.
“Rest assured,” he said. “I couldn’t not pay attention to you even if I tried.” Then he turned and she had no choice but to follow him out of the room.
He took her down a wide, window-filled gallery, and Charlotte tried to focus on what she was hired to do, rather than on her hot tour guide. Curiously, all the windows were outfitted with retractable shutters. If she hadn’t been examining all the details, she may not have noticed them because the windows were unshuttered now, the blackness outside pressing against the panes.
When they entered the library, her heart rate jumped. The walls were lined with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. A ladder on a track reached to the second set of shelves above them. Everywhere she looked, there were books. Probably more than some small-town libraries could boast.
The atmosphere seemed charged, almost electric. Like the room was filled with possibilities. Which, she supposed, was accurate.
Needing a distraction, she examined the large antique desk set at an angle near the window. The top was well polished, the scrollwork on the front exquisite. It had to be several hundred years old. She ran her hands over the wood and for some ungodly reason, she found herself wondering if any of its owners had ever had sex on it. It would’ve been unplanned, of course. Sex on a hard surface wasn’t something one set out to do. It would’ve happened spontaneously.
Her belly tightened, heat concentrating between her legs.
What was wrong with her? Her imagination. These sensations. Clearly, her night with Trace had addled her brain, had left her completely out of sorts.
Despite her efforts to control them, images from the other night kept appearing in her head. She and Trace had made love several times. At first, she’d been fully clothed with only her panties gone. He’d paused only long enough to drop his trousers before he was on top of her. The whole experience had been deliciously naughty. But instead of leaving afterward, as she half expected him to do, he’d undressed her and made love to her again.
This time, with her on top.
Had she really told him she didn’t think he’d fit? She tried not to smile at how silly that sounded now. Chewing at her lip, she walked around to the far side of the desk. Every man must dream of a woman saying that to him. Although she’d have to imagine she probably wasn’t the first woman to say it to Trace. He hadn’t acted all that surprised, just pleased.
Goose bumps sprang up on her arms at the memory of him. He’d been slow and surprisingly gentle at first. One thing she was sure of: it was a night she wouldn’t soon forget.
“So how do you envision decorating this room?” he asked.
She gathered her wits about her, took a deep breath, and turned to face him. With his arms crossed, he’d been watching her, a dark expression on his face. Anger? Irritation? Boredom? He seemed so emotionally closed off now, like he’d suddenly erected a wall between them. What was going on with him? She could’ve sworn he’d been warming up to her. Or maybe it was just her wishful imagination. She stifled her disappointment and had to remind herself that a relationship with a client wasn’t a good idea anyway.
“Given that your event is right around the corner, there won’t be time to place any orders,” she said to Trace as she chewed on her pencil. “I’ll have to make do with what we have. Where do you keep your holiday decorations?”
“We’ve got a storage
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