Page 63 of When Bones Whisper
“What does that even mean?”
“You will see.”
She inhaled deeply, holding the breath for a moment in her lungs before blowing it out. “You are infuriating.”
“I know. Now, dance with me,” he said in a voice that could seduce the devil into giving up his throne. “Or would you have me beg?”
“Would you?” she asked.
“I’d never lower myself to that. Not even foryou.”
His comment notwithstanding, she couldn’t help but wonder how that would look. Fantasies blossomed in her mind,heightened by vampire blood pulsing through her veins, spreading warmth between her legs.
He could likely sense her arousal, smell it even. Heat crept through her body, embarrassment forcing her to avert her gaze.
When he erased the little distance remaining between their bodies, she ran her hand over the fabric of his shirt, closing her eyes as she explored the tight muscles of his chest. Damned, he felt good.
A familiar cackle of laughter sounded nearby, and she glanced over her shoulder, spotting Baron and Baroness Ellenwood embroiled in a dance. Unlike other balls, where dances were choreographed, this one had couples swaying to the music freely. It was quite scandalous, much like the host, and she secretly enjoyed it.
Nathaniel’s fingers pressed into the sides of her chin, tilting her head back to meet him. “Eyes on me,love.”
Tingles erupted in her heart. He lifted her into his arms until her feet barely grazed the floor. The barest touch of his lips against her earlobe sent a tingle searing to where he’d bitten her last. “You have been drinking blood.”
Her heart skipped a beat. “I haven’t.”
She wasn’t sure why she had lied.
“I can smell it on you.” He leaned down, his lips ghosting over hers, her mouth parting.
“It helps my pain, and it makes me forget certain things.”
“Forget what?”
“That you want to kill me.”
He stopped dancing, his gray eyes gleaming when they dropped to her mouth. He gently tugged her bottom lip down, then released it to snap back into place. “It is not only your blood I crave, little lamb.”
His confessions sent a shockwave through her body. “It is not?”
“It is your soul.”
The confession swarmed butterflies into her stomach, all erratic and broken, pulling her somewhere between nausea and desire.
She could sense the carnal hunger burning behind his eyes. With a brush of his fingers along her clavicle, goosebumps blossomed over her skin, her body frozen under his riveting gaze.
All she could think about was surrendering to the desires of her body. To just give in before her next, panting breath.
“I need some air,” she said, the oxygen in the room suddenly too thick for her to swallow. “Is there somewhere I can go? I cannot breathe properly.”
Gently, his fingers landed around her waist. “Yes. Come with me.”
Pulled through the crowd, Charlotte barely glimpsed Alexander amidst laughter with Katherine before reaching the locked double doors leading out to an enclosed courtyard.
While he retrieved his keys and unlocked the door, Charlotte found the yellow-green eyes of Charles Eringhorn, Alice’s former betrothed, latching onto hers from the group of aristocrats gossiping at the side of the room.
Charles lowered his wine-red mask and hastened to her, his upper lip twitching. A sweep of blond hair was slicked back, his finger running along the length of his pronounced cheekbone. The smell of beeswax and tobacco smoke clung to his dark gray frock coat.
“Miss Lovett.” His voice was as smooth as spider’s silk. “Howintriguingit is to see you here.”
