Page 9 of Cursed Lifeline

I don't dare turn around, and instead suck in a shaky breath as he steps closer and his chest brushes temptingly against my spine. My breathing stills. My heart stops. I glance down as his black leather gloved fingertips brush up my arm, and I shiver from promiscuous thoughts.

His lips press seductively against my ear as he erotically whispers, "I've yet to meet a challenge I haven't conquered. However, if I'm not careful, I must confess our encounter promises to bring me to my knees."

Stunned by his audacity, I turn around slowly, and violet eyes lock on mine. Paralyzed, I study them momentarily and feel at peace for the first time. Suspended in a life-changing, entrancing moment, my gaze softly falls to his red, full lips and eagerly roams across his ghostly white, blemish-free skin, accentuated by high cheekbones and a strong jaw, perfectly dusted with short, dark, coffee-brown facial hair.

My heart flutters as I step back and study his tall frame and broad, strong, lean body.

All of the men dressed here tonight are adorned with embroidered jackets and suits of light blue, green, or gold. But this man is wearing all black. He's clothed in rebellion. Something not common in upper society. Just like the five o'clock shadow sexily swept across the lower half of his face. Most believe the clothes and facial hair portray an eccentric, unreasoned, ungoverned man. I find it adds an air of mystery and intrigue, though I can't deny, from the looks of him, he may fit the wild stereotype to perfection.

If I were a smarter woman, I would pay attention to the fact that everything about him says the cliche is right. He's ungoverned. Unconstrained. Answers to no laws, except his own.

But I'm not a smarter woman.

As if he can read my mind, his violet eyes widen mischievously. He smiles wickedly, showing me just how sinful and corrupt he undoubtedly is as sharp canines peek devilishly into sight.

I start to take another step back, but his right arm wraps around my waist possessively. His fingers twine through my corset's lace and anchor me to him. His left palm tightly, possessively grips my hip through my silk dress. His burning touch brands me. The heat of it singes my skin through the thick, protective layer of my petticoat. Unable to think straight, I become numb to all reason as he pulls me a step closer.

Bracing myself against his chest, I attempt to yank back, but his violet eyes continue to hold me immobile under his alluring spell.

His stare drifts provocatively to my mouth. I hold my breath as he licks his lips and whispers, "How do you do it?"

When I don't answer, his striking face falls to the crook of my neck. He desperately breathes me in, and I let out a strangled gasp.

"Do what?"

"Make me crave you without even a taste," he growls.

His mouth eagerly places a kiss on my neck, and I tremble. He groans and slowly, improperly licks my jugular vein that's beating wildly against his hungry lips. Arching into him, my knees wobble as he continues to toe an improper line out in the open where anyone can see.

"Felix," a man's voice abruptly breaks through the spell we're under.

Felix.

I smile, commit his name to memory, and will my breathing to return to normal as I attempt to step out of his hold. But Felix doesn't release me. In fact, he tightens his grip, fists his fingers through the golden locks at the nape of my neck, and delicately yanks my head to the side, exposing more of my trembling flesh to his immoral desires.

"You're wanted at the table," his friend insists as he steps up to our side.

I catch the man's eyes over Felix's shoulders. Alarm surges through me when I see them glow the same violet shade as the man who's now lightly releasing his grip on my waist. The dealer at the table says a gentleman's last name.Caldwell. I assume they're talking about the man who is reluctant to release me from his hold. The dealer says it again a second time, then a third. His anger continues to grow with every utterance.

"They won't hold your spot forever," Felix's friend grits out.

Placing a strong grip on his shoulder, he attempts to pull Felix back from me. A predatory, possessive growl escapes Felix's lips. It's a rumble that tingles its way down my spine and makes desire simmer in my lower stomach. The dominance in the action, his power and control, makes my heart race erratically. After a moment, his friend releases his hold and steps back.

Felix keeps his grip anchored on my waist. As his gaze locks on mine, he grins with devilry intent, "Play with me."

I blush, then teasingly toss back, "Monsieur Caldwell, please."

I force myself a step back out of his arms, and this time, he strangely lets me go. But his eyes linger on mine, hungrily searching and roaming every inch of my shaking soul. His hypnotic gaze makes my knees once again begin to shake. Before they give out completely, I turn around, saunter into the next room, and sass, "Lucky for you, I too, like a challenge. Especially if it ends in bringing the right man to his knees."

His sultry chuckle falls against my shivering spine as I approach the group seated around the green felt in the center of the room. Felix stalks quietly behind me. The heat of his gaze sears with need across my quivering skin as I pull my chair back from the table and, with a racing heart, take my seat.

The dealer starts to shuffle, and I focus on the rippling clatter of the cards being melded together instead of the frantic breaths lodging themselves in my chest. I place my jittery hands on top of the dense, coarse fabric, but my palms begin to shake as Felix Caldwell slowly starts to walk behind my chair. Embarrassed he might see my trembling hands, I attempt to hide them, and quickly place them in my lap.

As he passes, Felix brushes his fingertips across the back of my right shoulder. Stopping at my spine, he slowly trails his fingers across the back of my left shoulder and sits beside me. The dealer calls my name and angrily says something I can tell I'm supposed to pay attention to, but I can't hear it over the hammering of my heart in my ears.

Before I can decipher what has been said, Felix reaches into my lap and protectively laces his fingers through mine. My heart stops as I look his way and he brings my hands to his lips. He turns my palms in his, and places a kiss against the inside of my right wrist.

"Mon cheri," he whispers as he breathes in the scent of my skin.

---