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An Excerpt From: SEDUCED BY DANGER
Copyright © STEPHANIE JULIAN, 2009
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing,
Inc.
His heart started to pound like he was a horny teenager.
And he knew it wasn’t due to Cara’s querciola
nature.
Damn, he’d missed her. Missed her sweet smile that never
failed to warm his cold Mal heart. Missed her hands on him, stroking
him. Missed the passion that flared between them, the emotional connection
they shared that was so different from anything he’d ever experienced
before.
When you were born Mal, you were raised to feel
nothing other than rage, envy, greed, jealousy, hate.
Cara had made him love her.
He crossed the floor slowly. He didn’t sense any wards
on the cottages, probably thought they didn’t need them because of the
heavy spell surrounding the village.
An etera hiking in the
forest could walk right by the enclave and never see it, the spell was that
powerful. Even someone with magical powers wouldn’t find it. They’d circle
for hours but never find their way into the village. All they’d see were
trees.
Someone with a shitload of magic had created that spell.
Someone like a deity.
The Mal didn’t play well with most of the
Etruscan pantheon who still walked the earth.
Whoever had set up this enclave would kill him for trespassing without
bothering to ask for an explanation first.
Michael had been able to slip through only because he
had the blood connection with Aron to guide him
like a homing beacon. Still, he didn’t think that would save his ass if he
were caught. So he better not get caught.
He moved silently, not wanting to wake her. He didn’t
think he’d be able to leave if she looked into his eyes and reached for
him. Like he dreamed about every night.
With his heart pounding and his palms sweaty, he stopped
in the doorway.
Blessed Mother Goddess.
He drew in a sharp breath but his lungs tightened to the
point of pain.
Cara lay on her stomach on the bed, naked from her head
to her waist where a thin sheet covered her lower body. The pale skin of
her back gleamed in the dim moonlight, her arms tucked under the pillow
beneath her head. She’d gathered her sable, waist-length hair in a braid that
trailed over her shoulder, leaving bare the outline of the folletta wings she’d never have.
She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
Just the slope of her nose or the curve of her cheek
could give him a fierce hard-on. And when she smiled, he wanted to strip
her down and worship her with his mouth between her legs.
She loved when he went down on her and he’d readily
admit to the same.
But he couldn’t do that now.
Instead, he knelt on the floor so his face was on the same
plane as hers. She seemed to be out cold. Her breath blew over her slightly
parted lips and he smelled herbs, something sweet and dark.
Looking at the bedside table, he noticed a glass.
Leaning over, he sniffed it. Sleeping potion of some kind.
Could he touch her? Stretch out beside her and hold her
for just a few minutes, without her knowing? She seemed so completely
under.
Gods damn it, he wanted these
last moments with her.
He thought about slipping off his sneakers but didn’t
want to take the risk if he had to make a fast exit.
Hell, he didn’t even want to lift the sheet for fear
he’d disturb her, so he lay on top of it, easing his body into the curve of
hers, her body conforming to his as if she knew he was there.
Those first few months on the run, right after he’d
staged her death in a fall from the New
York City brownstone where she’d been held
prisoner, they’d slept like this every night.
And every night he’d wanted her.
Just as he wanted her now.
His cock throbbed, already hard with need. His hands
ached to wrap around that braid and pull her head back so he could put his
mouth on the soft skin of her neck, right behind her ear where he knew she
loved to be nipped.
Her sweet, subtle scent sank into his lungs and spread
through his bloodstream like a fast-acting drug. Tinia’s
teat, this was torture.
Yet even as his desire rose, another emotion began to
rise as well. An emotion that overpowered the rage that constantly roiled
in his gut. Something that eased the anger, tempered it, transformed it into
something else. Something he’d never felt before.
The still rational part of his brain told him to get the
hell out of there.
He knew he couldn’t. Not now.
And what could one kiss hurt? She was asleep. She’d
never know. And he didn’t have that much time left to regret anything he
did so…
He leaned closer, letting his lips settle onto the back
of her neck, unable to contain his groan. His arms wrapped around her,
pulling her closer.
His.
Until he died.
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