the black shirt. The count felt much more dangerous, like a lethal addiction. I could still feel that faint brush of his fingertips against my skin, like it was branded into me.
I found him still by the entrance, still wearing that cowl. Women surrounded him, blushing, eyeing him. A beautiful brunette stared at him, twirling her hair around her fingertips. She crossed to him and tried to wrap her arms around his neck, but he simply plucked them off again, letting them drop.
With a jolt, I realized his eyes were locked on me—a truly mesmerizing metallic gray. And now that the women could see what he was looking at, their eyes slid to me, too. I felt them seething.
I hated being the center of attention. But slowly, I stopped thinking about everyone else in the room—just the count and me. Even with his cloak on, he seemed to radiate heating magic so intensely, it was like the rest of the room went dark.
He took a step closer to me, his pale eyes beaming.
Up close, I could see into his hood—a little bit of high, sculpted cheekbones, a sharp jawline. I moved up close, and his aphrodisiac power swept around me, sinking into my muscles and making my pulse race. I felt like he was pulling me into him, like the moon pulls the waves. I was just inches from him now, peering up at him.
Just like I’d seen the other woman do, I wrapped my arms around him, slipping them under his cloak and around his neck. And I felt it, every point where our bare skin made contact, my forearms against his neck. A sensual heat kissed my body, making me shiver with pleasure. I felt like I was glowing along with him.
He slid a hand around the back of my neck, and the movement sent my heart racing. Heat spread out from his palm, radiating down the bare skin on my back. He was seductive power personified, and never before had I encountered anyone more deadly.
Even knowing what he was, I wanted to pull his cloak off and feel his skin against mine. And this was why angels were dangerous, must be kept at arm’s length.
Something was shifting in his gray eyes, getting darker, warmer. A deep red. Flames. A look of carnal intensity. Something that looked like a gold tattoo swept over one of his cheekbones.
One of his fingertips moved slowly up and down the arch of my back. And at that touch, molten warmth arced through me, pooling at the apex of my thighs.
His other hand moved from my neck, fingers threading into my hair. Gently, he pulled back my head, exposing my throat. For a moment, he seemed transfixed by it, and I wondered what he would do. Kiss it? Bite it? I only knew I was completely vulnerable to him, wrapped in his powerful arms. That he could kill me in an instant if he suspected I was double crossing him.
From under the hood of his cloak, he raised his eyes to mine, and the searing look that he gave me made my knees feel weak.
His gaze trailed up to my mouth, and his lips hovered just above mine. My breasts strained against the silk of the gown. I wanted him to drag me into the shadows outside, to pull the silky material off me.
Obviously, this was his magic at work, because I loathed the man with every fiber of my being. This was what it meant to be beguiled by an angel.
If we kissed, my mind and body would burn with a fire that I would never recover from.
And yet … I needed to see his face, what he looked like without the cloak. I reached for the hood, and lowered it.
When I did, the full force of his beauty stole my breath. His features had been hand-carved by God and painted with the divine beauty of contrasts: dark eyelashes and storm-gray eyes, a masculine jaw with sensual lips—full, curved. The candlelight wavered over high cheekbones, his straight eyebrows. He had a square jaw, and a dimpled chin.
His dark hair had a deep, auburn hue. Skin kissed by gold. Between his black eyebrows, a little line had formed. Divine.
He’s not your type, Lila. Too beautiful, too otherworldly. I liked normal blokes. A man you could drink a beer with. His perfection made him alien to my world.
And yet it was hard not to stare. His beautiful mouth was so close to my own.