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Hotspell |
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©
Copyright, Lora Leigh |
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All Rights Reserved |
| ISBN:
0425212882
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Note: Lora Leigh's Books are intended
for those readers 18 years old or older. |
Excerpt:
“I know you’re a Breed, Tarek.” She wasn’t playing games with him.
She hated it when they were played with her. “Tell me what’s going
on.”
He grimaced tightly before picking up his cup and moving to the
kitchen table as though putting distance between them. She followed
him.
He turned his hand, watching as she leaned against the counter
across from him and waited. Other than appliances, the kitchen was
bare. No disorder. No clutter or decoration. The living room had
been the same she remembered. As though he had yet to decide who he
was enough to mark his home with those things that defined him.
Unless…
“Did you buy the house?” she asked him then.
Surprise crossed his features. “It’s mine.” He nodded before sipping
at his coffee. “What does that have to do with anything?”
Nothing, except the thought of him leaving bothered her. Fine, he
had no interest in her outside of her bread and her coffee, but she
liked him. At least he wasn’t boring.
“Nothing.” She finally shrugged. Thankfully she was wearing the
thick flannel robe rather than one of her thinner ones. The ones
that would have shown her hard nipples clearly and made it
impossible to hide her response from him.
That was what pissed her off so bad about him. He was the one man in
years who had actually interested her, and he seemed totally
oblivious to her as a woman.
It sucked.
“You haven’t told me what happened tonight yet,” she finally
reminded him. “I’ve been pretty patient, Tarek.”
He grunted at that statement. “Yeah, I saw that while you were
running through the rain.”
He inhaled deeply, grimaced and shifted restlessly in his chair. His
hand rubbed at his arm, just below the bandage, as though to rub the
ache away.
She ached for him, for that wound. The sight of his blood earlier
had weakened her knees, filled her with a fear she hadn’t expected.
He had been hurt. While she dealt with the police and filing that
stupid report, all she could think about how severely he could have
been wounded.
“I don’t know,” he finally answered, staring at her directly. “I
knew someone was out there, I followed them. I caught them messing
with the electric box and attempting to get to the back door when I
tried to stop him.” He pushed his fingers through his hair again,
feathering the dark gold strands back from his face. “I don’t
believe they were after your TV set, though.”
She didn’t like the sound of that.
“The security company said the alarm couldn’t be dismantled in the
electrical box. That it has a backup…”
“It can be done.” He finally shrugged heavily. “Your system is
residential. It has its drawbacks. I’ll get you a new one in
tomorrow.”
“I didn’t ask you to do anything.” She was growing sick of this cat
and mouse game of his. “I want to know what the hell was going on.
Any burglar worth his salt would have run at being noticed. This guy
didn’t run. Why?”
“I don’t know. I was hoping you would.” That wasn’t a lie.
He stared at her, his unusual eyes darker, heavy lidded… She
swallowed tightly. That was not lust glittering in the golden
depths. Men like him didn’t get turned on for frumpy little
accountants.
She drew in a deep, uneven breath, flickering her tongue over her
dry lips nervously. He followed the movement, his gaze heating.
Okay. This was odd enough. She could understand being hotter than
hell herself, but now he was? Why? Did he have a flannel fetish or
something?
“Fine. It was no big deal then.” She crossed her arms over her
breasts just to make certain he couldn’t see her nipples pushing
against the cloth. “I’ll just go home…”
“Not tonight.” His voice was darker, deeper. “It’s not safe as long
as your system is down. You can stay here or call your brothers.
It’s up to you.”
“I can take care of myself.” She drew herself up stiffly as she
faced him.
He rose from the table, suddenly appearing stronger, broader,
fiercer as he scowled down at her.
“I said, you could stay here or call your brothers. I gave you no
other choices.” A growl echoed in his voice as his eyes seemed to
glow with arrogant intent.
“I didn’t ask you for choices, Tarek.” She wasn’t about to bow down
submissively to him either. “I don’t need a keeper.”
His jaw tightened furiously, his lips thinning as he glared at her
And that really shouldn’t have turned her on further. But it was.
She could feel the moisture gathering, pooling, spilling along the
sensitive folds between her thighs. Her breasts felt heavier,
swollen, too sensitive.
And he wasn’t exactly uninterested anymore.
Her gaze flickered down, her face flushing heatedly before she
jerked it back up. He was filling those jeans out like it was
nobody’s business.
And he hadn’t missed the direction of her look either.
“Don’t tempt me, Lyra,” he suddenly warned her, his voice rasping
over her sensitive nerve endings. “My control is shot for the night.
Either call your brothers or march your sweet ass upstairs to my
spare room or you’re going to find yourself flat on your back in my
bed. Your choice. The only ones left. Make it.”
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