Page 7 of A Vampire Bewitched
Inherent creepiness?Emma snorted to herself again.Really?
Her regular workout routine helped though. She found if she wore herself out physically on a daily basis, the “incidents” happened much less frequently. So she jogged and went to kickboxing class, sometimes doing both in the same day. Unfortunately, she hadn’t figured this out until after Keira disappeared. What had started out as a way to help her cope with the trauma, ended up having a life changing side effect.
The bartender shuffled her way again. “Here you go, pretty lady.” His elderly hand set her drink down in front of her, without spilling a drop. “That’ll be $3.50. Wanna start a tab?”
“No, thank you. I’ll just go ahead and pay.” Emma pulled her wallet out of her bag and dug out some cash. “I’m really not much of a drinker, you know. Just needed something to calm my nerves.” She handed him a five. “Keep the change.”
“Thank you, darlin.” He turned to ring her up. “So! What brings you into our fine establishment tonight?” Propping his elbows up across the bar from her, the old man settled in for a chat. “I don’t recall seeing you in here before. Though you do look kind of familiar….”
Emma turned her stool around to face him, not wanting to be rude. Taking a sip of her drink, she revealed, “Um, I’m meeting someone here actually.”
“Mm hmm.” Slapping his hand on the bar, he concluded, “A boyfriend! I knew someone as nice and pretty as you had to be taken.” He made a sad face, but with his bushy eyebrows and sagging jowls, it was more comical than sad. “Though an old man could hope.”
Emma felt her face heat up at the compliment. “Well, he’s definitelynotmy boyfriend. So, you may still have a chance.” She winked at him.
“Is that right? In that case, let me buy you a drink.”
Emma laughed as he turned around, pretending to look for the bartender. She was glad for the banter; it took her mind off of her nervousness. “Actually, I don’t really know who it is I’m meeting here, other than the fact that it’s a man. Someone called me saying they had information about my sister, who’s been missing…” She dwindled off, not sure why she was sharing, other than it felt good to talk to someone.
He scrutinized her for a moment with his cloudy eyes, and then suddenly they sharpened with recognition. “You’re Emma Moss! That’s where I’ve seen you before. And it’s your older sister, Keira, who’s still missing, right?” He nodded to himself. “I remember now. I volunteered on one of the search teams.”
“You did? Oh.” She gave him a sad, grateful smile. “Well, thank you.”
“They still haven’t found any new information, huh?” At the negative shake of her head, the old man gave her a sympathetic shake of his own. “That’s a damn shame, darlin'. It really is. I’m so sorry.” He laid his gnarled hand on top of hers and gave it a slight squeeze. “My name’s Ned, by the way.”
“Nice to meet you, Ned,” Emma responded politely.
He gave her a small nod, then his bushy brows furrowed down. “You don’t know who this is that contacted you?”
Emma shook her head again and took another sip of her drink. “No idea. I received a phone call right as I was leaving work tonight. All he said was to meet him here at 9pm and that he had information about Keira.”
She glanced up at Ned with an imploring look, and felt the need to explain. “I had to come, see what he has to say. She’s all I have left…” She trailed off again as the door opened behind her, and she saw the kindly bartender squint suspiciously at the newcomer.
Glancing back over her shoulder to see who it was, she felt her breath leave her lungs in awhoosh!
Good God. Who was that?
The male who’d just entered was every bad girl’s dream, and probably the good one’s too. She could practically feel her panties hit the floor just from looking at him.
Gauging him to be a little over six feet tall, he had dirty blonde hair that fell just past the top of his shoulders, with choppy pieces that gave it a careless appearance. Piercing blue eyes glowed—almost eerily—with a life of their own as he slowly perused the room. Clean-shaven, his slightly squared jaw was strong and confident. Sculpted cheekbones and a perfectly proportioned nose finished off one of the best-looking faces she’d ever seen on a guy.
Like, seriously. He put the fashion magazine models to shame. Dressed in dark jeans, combat boots, and a long-sleeved black knit shirt—that did absolutely nothing to hide the lean, muscular body underneath—he was the most virile man Emma had ever seen.
Yet, in spite of his Hollywood pretty boy looks, he had a predatory air of danger around him. It surrounded him like a physical substance, permeating the room as he stood casually just inside the door. Even the drunks on the dance floor sensed it, staggering as far away from him as they could get. This guy was trouble. With a capitol “T”.
Emma was still staring in awe when his gaze swung her way, locking on to her and not letting go. She inhaled sharply as those eyes roved over her face, then her neck, and down to her breasts, lingering there for a few seconds.
A hot surge of desire tightened low in her stomach, surprising her, and she felt a rush of moisture as her innermost muscles clenched in response.
Lifting slowly back up to her face, his gaze burned right through her for a long moment, like he was imagining her naked and knew she’d enjoy it.
Whoa.
He closed his eyes then, and she watched him lift his nose and inhale deeply like he was scenting something, or someone, as an animal would scent their prey. The corners of his perfectly beautiful lips lifted slightly as he pierced her with those eyes again. He smirked at her knowingly.
That smirk was like a slap in the face. What the hell was the matter with her? Emma gave herself an internal shake. A good-looking guy walks in and she reacts like a hormone-laden teenager, when she should be worrying about the meeting about her sister.
She glared at the stranger.Thank God he’s not the informant. He’s not supposed to be here until 9pm, and it was only—
