Page 8 of A Warlock for Halloween

He’s quiet and I rush to fill the silence, hoping that I didn’t offend him with the magician comment. But come on, a warlock? He wasn’t carrying a staff or wearing a cool hat. How was anyone supposed to know the difference?

“What’s your daytime job?”

“I run a shop with my two sisters.”

Something turns over in my chest at how wholesome that is. “Aww… that’s so sweet. I couldn’t imagine working with either of my siblings. I have an older sister and a younger brother, leaving me smack-dab in the middle. If we all worked together, we’d be at each other’s throats in no time.”

Ambrose lets out a husky chuckle. “It has tried my patience over the years, but it gives me a reason to get out of bed each day.”

The man is just full of surprises!

“What a fantastic way of looking at it,” I gush. “I’m a vet tech and I love my job. Sure, some days are hard, and it gets emotional. Still, I worked my ass off to get where I am and…” I trail off. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to get all worked up.”

He takes my hand. “You have a lot of passion within you. It’s a beautiful thing.”

His words and touch have another rush of blood surging to my face. Before I can fully process what’s happening, his lips are on mine.

Ambrose’s lips are full but firm. He leads the kiss, his lips moving skillfully over my mouth. When his tongue teases at theparting between my lips, I open to him, nearly moaning when he sweeps inside and strokes my tongue.

My nipples tighten and press at the cups of my bra while a familiar ache builds in my core. A rush of heady desire makes my head swim, and the kiss goes on and on.

When he pulls away, his eyes are fixed on my face. It should feel awkward, kissing a man I only met this afternoon, especially with those strange silver eyes of his. Yet it doesn’t. I feel a connection. A burning need to know more about this man.

“Exquisite,” he breathes.

CHAPTER SIX

NATALIE

The carriage comes to a stop and Ambrose pulls back from me. “Excellent, we’re here.”

The door opens and the carriage driver stands to the side as Ambrose climbs out first and then reaches inside for my hand helping me to smoothly disembark.

Looking around, I have no idea where we are. We were only in the carriage for ten minutes tops, yet this looks nothing like my town or, frankly, anywhere that I’ve been before.

A two-story brick restaurant is only steps away and judging by the line of people, this place is popular. Ambrose tucks my hand into the crook of his elbow and leads me past the waiting people, through the door, and up to where a maître d’ stands.

The man spots us and his face lights up. A rapid exchange of what I’m assuming to be French follows between him and Ambrose. I took Spanish in high school, so I’m useless at understanding any of the conversation, though my gaze does bounce back and forth between Ambrose and the maître d’.

Grabbing two large menus, the man leads us to a small table tucked away in a private alcove and hands over the menus with their golden tassels with a flourish.

“I’ve never been here or have even seen this place before,” I whisper to Ambrose.

He smiles and reaches for my hand, his thumb grazing along the skin of my knuckles and sending heat flaring through me. “It’s someplace very special. I needed it to be for you.”

I still think he has his odd quirks, but he’s also utterly charming and, yes, it’s easy to fall under his spell.

Gently, I tug my hand from his and, with a sigh, he lets me go.

Opening up the menu, my eyes flicker over it and yep, it’s all in a foreign language and I can’t read a word of it. “French?”

He glances up from his menu. “Yes. Don’t worry, let me do the ordering. I promise you won’t be disappointed.”

With visions of snails in my head, I control my grimace and give a tiny nod.

I don’t have to eat it if I don’t want. It’s not like I’m going to starve by missing a meal, I remind myself.

With Ambrose I need to learn to expect the unexpected. Horse-drawn carriage, fancy French restaurant, and, yes, unbelievably good food.

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