Fanged Love - Kylie Gilmore Page 0,58

a lingering tingle between my legs and a delicious ache.

I step back. Was I imagining it? Must be the jet lag and wine or something because his hand never left my wrist. Magical seduction. Probably all in my mind, except I definitely felt…something.

My mind quickly hops to the conversation I had earlier with Neli. I was looking for dirt and clarification about their romantic status, but what I got was a mile-long list as to why Boz and I would be perfect for each other.

If that’s not a green light from Neli, I don’t know what is.

She then assured me that Boz’s attraction was mutual and that all I had to do was make the first move, because his gentlemanly ways would prevent any action on his part until I make the “deepest desires of my timeless soul and fervently beating heart known to him.”

I swear, sometimes when Neli talks, I feel like I’m listening to an old woman from some classic romance novel. The part of our conversation that stuck with me most, however, was when Neli said, and I quote, “His supernatural gifts of seduction will leave you breathless. You will forget all other men until end of days are upon us.” What a weird thing to say. And how does she know about his “gifts” if they’ve never been together? She says it’s just what she heard, whispers over the years. Either way, I’m intrigued. And now, my entire body is trembling with need. I can’t help wondering if this is what Neli meant. His rep is so well deserved, and I’m dying to experience more.

“Boz,” I say in my firmest voice, “I know you’re old fashioned about certain things, so what I’m about to say might sound forward, but Neli said I have to make my intentions clear.” I lift my chin. “So that’s what I’m doing. I have intentions. And they are the sort that take place in private.” I swallow hard. “Naked,” I add, in case it wasn’t clear.

He looks up at me from where he’s still seated, stifling a smile, but the hungry look in his dark seductive eyes tells me Neli was right. He does want me. But then why the speech about him being complicated and pushing my hand away? And that spark when our hands touched? Phew! I always thought that “the spark” thing was a metaphor, not an actual physical reaction. I have to follow through.

“Are you truly prepared to be naked in my bed?” he asks, his voice gruff and low, for my ears only. At my sharp intake of breath, he continues, “Perhaps you are not ready for this experience.” That last word comes out gravelly, seductive and challenging at the same time.

My toes curl, and my nipples tingle into sharp points beneath the thin fabric of my pink floral dress. His words are almost as sexual as the sinful tone of his voice. Supernatural gifts of seduction? Yes, please. Ruin me for other men. “I’m ready,” I say.

He is about to speak, but something in the window behind me catches his attention. A hard, fiercely bitter gleam in his eyes replaces the carnal hunger I saw just a moment ago. I turn my head and catch a glimpse of a man staring at us. He’s in a tan trench coat with a black fedora pulled down low, leaving his face in shadow. Little warm out for a trench coat.

“Wait. Isn’t that the guy from the restaurant?” I ask.

“Let me walk you to your room.”

Um. That wasn’t an answer, and I’m about to say so when Boz stands. He takes my hand and tugs me out of the bar.

I stumble along, catching glimpses of the other patrons immersed in their conversations.

“Boz, what’s going on? Who is that guy?”

“He is—he is an old nemesis.” Boz punches the button for the elevator, keeping his eyes focused directly on the door in front of us. For a moment, I think he’s avoiding eye contact with me, but then I realize he’s looking at the reflection in the shiny stainless steel. He’s watching everything behind us. His shoulders are square, his back is rigid, and he looks like he’s about to rip off someone’s head. A vision of Boz as a warrior flashes through my mind—fierce, strong, victorious.

“Is he from a rival winery?” I whisper, actually finding this whole thing a little exciting. Or maybe it’s the weird buzzing sensation flowing from our touching hands, into my body. The space between