Dark Carousel (Dark #30) - Christine Feehan Page 0,28

you have forgotten to take a breath. If you do not, I will have to do it for you.”

His gaze dropped to her mouth, and her entire body wanted to convulse with heat. How did he do that? She didn’t respond to men, not with a terrible, almost brutal need that seemed to sweep through her with just his voice or the smallest of touches. It was crazy to be so completely attracted to a man when danger surrounded her and every move she made could be putting her niece and friend in even more peril. Deliberately she took a breath, feeling the rise and fall of his chest beneath the palm of her hand. Her breath followed his in the same way her heartbeat followed his.

“Thank you. If I didn’t say that before, I’m saying it now, with tremendous gratitude. I was already terrified of that hideous man and afraid we might not be able to get away from him, but I had no clue he wasn’t alone. He was afraid of you.” She made the last a statement, wanting an explanation. If Fridrick was a serial killer, able to tear out throats and drain bodies of blood—which was too theatrical for words—and he was afraid of Tariq, what did that make Tariq Asenguard?

“We knew each other a long time ago. I’ve hunted him before. He’s cunning and cruel and willing to sacrifice his friends in order to save his own hide. He respects me, but fear? I do not know if Fridrick is capable of feeling true fear. He wants to live, and he will retreat if he believes the odds are not in his favor. I had enough of my friends near, and when they showed up that tipped the scales against him. He wasn’t willing to accept those odds or there might have been a bloodbath.”

Fridrick had been afraid of Tariq no matter what spin Tariq put on it. That meant . . . Tariq was extremely dangerous, as every instinct she had screamed at her. She wasn’t certain whether that was because he was dangerous to her heart, maybe even to her soul, certainly to her body—he could own her. She was certain if she ever gave in to the craving she was feeling for him, he would own her body and soul.

Charlotte looked around her at the high fence and the several houses. “Emeline is here?” Somehow knowing the woman she’d met in Paris was living on the property as well as the couple and children he’d taken in made her feel safer.

“Yes. She’s staying in that little house over there.” He indicated a two-story Victorian that looked beautiful even in the night. There were no lights on, but then it was three in the morning.

“You do not have to stay, Charlie,” he said softly. “I am not holding you hostage, only offering you sanctuary until this is over. There is another house for Genevieve, you and Lourdes if you wish to take it. Tonight, the three of you are welcome to stay in the main house . . .” He turned and gestured toward the mansion. “As you can see there is plenty of room. In the morning, you can decide if you wish to stay longer and I can show you the other house. Maksim’s property borders mine, and he guards as well. My friends are close and they will help to look after the safety of all the children as well as the two of you and Emeline.”

He dropped her hand and stepped back, giving her space. Instantly she felt cold. Alone. Her body trembled as fear swept through her. He’d been holding all that at bay. She glanced at Genevieve, one eyebrow arched in inquiry. “What do you think, Vi?”

“I want to stay, Charlie,” Genevieve admitted. “I’m so sick of being afraid all the time. It’s beautiful here, and if we stay, I can’t imagine Fridrick or those other three getting their hands on Lourdes or us.”

Charlotte turned back to Tariq. “Then we thank you once again for this. We’d love to accept your offer of a place to stay.” She wasn’t going to commit to working for him, but she had to admit, the carousel horses were part of the draw. Mostly, it was Tariq. Still, staying close to him would be a danger in itself.

“It’s settled then. Come with me, ladies. I’ll show you the house, you can pick your rooms and then I can ask the police