Vampire Lover. Linda Thomas-Sundstrom
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Now was not the time or the place to explore his attraction to the woman. He had to be careful not to call too much attention to himself.
Leave now, before hunger obliterates good judgment.
Hunger was, in fact, circling, like a pack of snapping wolves. But he continued to search her face, noting that her eyes were a light jade-green and hooded by dark lashes. Familiar eyes?
The silver chain at her throat flashed as her head began to turn. Hayden winced, jolted by another surprise. Surely the little charm hanging from that chain, lying in the soft cleft between her collarbones, wasn’t what it appeared to be?
Couldn’t be.
Damnation, now that he’d seen it, he’d have to know for sure. Because if it was what he thought it might be, all hell was about break loose on the patio of a nightclub, and his move to America had been for nothing.
Forcing stale, steamy air into his lungs to maintain his composure, Hayden walked toward the woman, driven her way, fascinated beyond description, careful to keep his lips closed over the dagger-sharp teeth that defined him.
He is making a move?
The man heading Kelsie’s way was tall, fair-haired and handsome, even in the shadows. Big, lithe, with aristocratic features and a fluid grace, he was, upon first glance, a poster boy for the term sex appeal. The whole package.
He was also a serious distraction from her task at hand.
His blond hair was worn on the long side, with just the right amount of curl. He was scrumptiously masculine in casual black slacks and a blue linen shirt that she hoped matched his eyes.
Males like this one were trouble to every female hormone on the planet. Except maybe for hers, tonight. Tonight, she was on a mission. A career-building quest. Her entire future depended on ignoring distractions like this one, no matter how flattering they were, and in spite of the way her treacherous body might react to the guy’s appearance.
Remember the job, Connor.
Despite the reminder, her heart skipped some beats as the stranger stopped in front of her, blocking her view of the doorway. A full two heads taller than herself, Kelsie had to look up to address his untimely intrusion.
“Sorry. I’m waiting for someone,” she said, hating the fact that he was so classy, close up, and that she had to ignore it. He was, in fact, one of the most gorgeous men she had ever seen.
“I’m sure you are,” he conceded in a voice that matched his exterior—deep, rumbling and private in a way that jump-started her chills all over again.
“Already have a drink.” Kelsie held up her glass before noticing that her hand was shaking, and so was the glass. The back her of neck prickled, again with that cool rush of air.
Premonition, maybe?
Although most Irish people were superstitious about such things, Kelsie fought the impulse. She was young and moderately attractive, so guys routinely tried to pick her up. She was adept at giving a decent brush-off to pursuers she wasn’t interested in. Yet damned if she didn’t feel tongue-tied right then.
She bit her lip hard and tasted blood. She watched his eyes immediately go to her mouth, as if the blood had enticed his attention. With the arrival of more chills came suspicion.
Maybe this guy was too perfect to be human.
All of a sudden there didn’t seem to be enough air on the patio. Her chills mounted, as did the inexplicable feeling that her wishes for the appearance of a creature of the night had been heard by the wrong person in charge.
Please let him be a werewolf!
She barely got that thought off before the man’s face blurred, and his mouth touched hers.
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