Close Dragonsworn Medea would have made a comment had Falcyn not decided to lick the blood from his fingers. Been around for thousands of years now. You should try one. It soothes me.
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Channon MacRae paused in her note-taking and arched a brow at the peculiar comment. Not until now. With an irritated look, she pulled her pen away from her notepad and turned. Then she gaped.
No annoying, irreverent little man here. He was a tall, mind-blowingly sexy god who dominated the small museum room with a presence so powerful that she wondered how on earth he had entered the building without shaking it to its foundations.
Never in her life had she beheld anything like him or the seductive smile he flashed at her. Standing at least six feet five, he towered over her average height. His long black hair was pulled back into a sleek pony-tail and he wore an expensively tailored black suit and overcoat that seemed at odds with his unorthodox hair, yet perfectly fitting with his regal aura.
But the most peculiar thing of all was the tattoo covering the left half of his face. A faded, dark green, it spiraled and curled from his hairline to his chin like some ancient symbol. On anyone else such a mark would be freakish or strange, but this man wore it with dignity and presence- like a proud birthright. Yet it was his eyes that captivated her most.
A rich, deep greenish-gold, they were filled with such warm intelligence and vitality that it left her completely breathless.
His grin was both boyish and roguish and framed by inviting dimples that enchanted her. It seemed a unique blending of British and Greek- not to mention, deep and provocative. Worse, his prolonged stare sent a rush of desire coiling though her. Suddenly, it was extremely warm in this little glass room. So hot, she half expected the gallery windows to fog up. He folded his hands casually behind his back and yet it seemed as if he were coiled for action.
As if he were ready and alert to take on anyone who threatened him. What a strange image to have… When he spoke, his deep voice was even more seductive and enticing than it had been before, almost as if it were weaving some kind of magical spell around her.
And just a little too cocksure of his appeal judging by his arrogant stance. No doubt he could get any woman who caught his eye. Channon swallowed at the thought as she glanced down at her tan, corduroy jumper, and her hips which were not the fashionable, narrow kind. Do-Me-Right-Now must have lost a bet or something. Why else would he be speaking to her? Still, there was an air of danger, intrigue and power about him. But none of deceit. He appeared honest and, strangely enough, interested in her.
How could that be? And you are? She blinked the thought away. There was an indescribable masculine aura about him that seemed to say he would be far more at home on some ancient battlefield than locked inside this museum. He took her cold hand into his large, warm one. Her heart pounded at the feel of his hot breath against her skin, of his warm lips on her flesh.
It was all she could do not to moan from the sheer pleasure of it. No man had ever treated her this way- like some treasured lady to be quested for. She felt oddly beautiful around him. Scholars had written countless papers on their theories of its origin. She, herself, had done her dissertation on it, trying to link it to the tales of King Arthur or to Celtic tradition.
No one knew where the tapestry had come from or even what story it related to. For that matter, no one knew who had won the fight between the dragon and the warrior. And that was what intrigued her most of all.
The battle between the dragon and the man lives on unto today. He appeared serious. His clean, spicy scent invaded her head and weakened her knees. What was it about this man that made her want to stand here talking to him? Oh to heck with that. What she really wanted to do was jump his delectable bones.
To cup that handsome face of his in her hands and kiss his lips until she was drunk from his taste. There was something seriously wrong here.
Why else would I be here? She wore her honey-brown hair swept up so that it cascaded in riotous waves from a silver clip of old Welsh design. Several strands of it had come free of the clip to dangle precariously around her face as if the strands had a life of their own. How he longed to set free that hair and feel it sliding through his fingers, brushing against his naked chest. He dropped his gaze down over her lush, full body and stifled his smile.
Still, she drove him crazy with desire. He longed to sample her full, moist lips. To bury his face in the hollow of her throat where he could drink in her scent. Gods, how he yearned for her. It was a need borne of such desperation that he wondered what kept him from taking her into his arms right now and satisfying his curiosity.
Especially not when the beast inside him was stirred. And this woman stirred that deadly part of him to a dangerous level.
Sebastian had only come into the museum to get the lay of it for tonight. To find where they had housed the tapestry. However, he still had hours before he could leave. Hours that he would much rather spend gazing into her eyes than waiting in his hotel room.
She looked startled by his question. But then he seemed to have that effect on her. She was nervous around him, a bit jumpy, and he longed to set her at ease.
Suppressing the predator inside him, Sebastian put his hands in his pockets to keep from reaching out to her and scaring her off. When I see something I want, I go after it. Moving with the incredible speed of his kind, Sebastian pulled her to a stop. She looked to his hand which still gripped her elbow. He reluctantly let go, even though every part of his soul screamed for him to hold her by his side regardless of the consequences.
She was a woman with her own mind. And the first law of his people ran through his head: Nothing a woman gives is worth having unless she gives it of her own free will. It was the one law not even he would break. Sebastian drew a deep breath as he fought down the animal part of himself that wanted her regardless of right or laws. The part of him that snarled with a need so fierce that it scared him. He forced a charming smile to his lips. Maybe some of it might rub off. We can walk there, in plain sight of the world.
What was it about him that made him so irresistible? It was unnatural. Eccentric and idiosyncratic, but not psychotic. No little voice in her head telling her to run. Instead, she was drawn to him and felt a most peculiar kind of serenity in his presence. Almost as if she were supposed to be with him. And yet she found herself pulling on her coat and placing her hand in the crook of his arm where she felt a muscle so taut and well-formed that it sent a jolt through her.
By the feel of that arm, she could tell his fashionable black suit and overcoat hid one incredible body. He scoffed. Of course not. And she did the strangest things to his body. He was already hard for her and they were barely touching. Her grip on his arm was light and delicate, as if she was ready to flee him at any moment. That was the last thing he wanted, and that surprised him most of all. A reclusive person, he only interacted with others when his physical needs overrode his desire for solitude.
Channon MacRae paused in her note-taking and arched a brow at the peculiar comment. Not until now. With an irritated look, she pulled her pen away from her notepad and turned. Then she gaped. No annoying, irreverent little man here. He was a tall, mind-blowingly sexy god who dominated the small museum room with a presence so powerful that she wondered how on earth he had entered the building without shaking it to its foundations.
We appreciate your feedback. This was an awesome book and I love that she left it open for the next story. Good book but too short. Home eBooks Instinct Back to eBooks. I look forward to reading it again shortly, after I finish with the rest of the series.
DESCARGAR DRAGONSWAN PDF
Meshakar However, this time the rogue Dark-Hunter is an old friend. Why bother making this a full-length drscargar Yes, their history is important, but their current stories, not so much. Heart of the Wolf. Subscribe to our blog by email! Kiss of the Night.