Page 6 of Hunted By the Headless Horseman
Silence. A few moments pass, and I swear my breath is a windstorm in my ears.
He tightens his grip on my hand. Before I can blink, he’s spun me around, taken a tiny blade from his breast pocket, and sliced a small line across my palm. A small cry escapes my throat along with the urge to jerk my hand away. He’s too strong. It takes less than a second for him to remove his glove, cut his palm, and press it to mine, coupling our fingers. He’s mixing our blood.
“Well, that can’t be very sanitary,” I mumble, a little squeamish at the sight of blood. Not mine. Ironically, I could be gushing like a stuck pig, but if it’s so much as a drop for anyone else, it feels like a fist gripping my heart.
His chest bears down on mine, his masculine, gloved hand anchoring itself around the small of my back—another rub of his palm.
My deepest gratitude to you, mydear summoner.
“Bloody fucking pumpkins!” I shriek as my nerve endings scream from the sudden, foreign voice inside my head. But all of me stills when he cups my chin, thumb brushing my cheek. I feel the blood smearing my jawline.
Beyond the shock, a sense of swoon-worthy heat washes over me. Because the voice in my head, definitely masculine, is deep, dark, and gravelly. It’s the exact type of voice I would expect from someone who stepped off the pages of a gothic ghost story.
A dark and velvety chuckle ripples through my mind, stirring warm butterflies in my belly.It is the first time I’ve smiled in decades. Much less laughed.
“Please tell me this is not some fated mates weird shit,” I plead, trying to ignore the flush spreading to my breasts, which are currently plumping against his lower chest.
No. It is merely a blood tether. One that affords me limited access to your mind.
Limited is good, I guess.
“What do you want with me?” is my next obvious question.
May I settle for your name first, sweet summoner?
I swallow hard and declare, “Um…Belle. Belladonna is my full name, but I prefer Belle.”
Intriguing.
“What?”
The contrast. Belladonna is a deadly nightshade, but your preferred name signifies ‘beauty’. Perhaps you are both…Belle. A woman who is as dangerous as she is captivating—one who dared to chant a summoning spell and offered her own blood to seal it. You possess a beauty that can be as lethal as it is enchanting. A rare and irresistible blend.
Heat swirls low in my belly as he brushes the backs of his knuckles along my cheek, pausing at my jawline where he fingers a few of my curls.
Okay, don’t swoon, Belle. Don’t swoon.
You may swoon if you wish,he remarks with another dark chuckle, triggering my face to turn hotter than a fever.I’ll be more than honored to sweep you off your feet again. But I won’t stop there. For I cannot be expected to play the gentleman forever.
So much for limited access.
“Yes, I’d say you’ve already failed at that, given my current state…” I trail off, lowering my chin toward the sheer nightgown.
Hmm…indeed.
Oh, god, why does he have to say it so suggestively and seductively?
“Of course!” I roll my eyes as his knuckles descend to my throat. “I would get the one headless horseman who’s horny even without a head.”
This word is unfamiliar to me. Would you share with me?
“Um, no, not right now, thank you. I think we have some other…mattersto discuss.”
Quite so.
I nearly double over once he puts a gap between us, though he captures my hand, directing me to the bed.
When I hesitate, his grip grows firmer, but he pauses. That devilish chuckle echoes in my mind again.Have no fear, Belle. While I find a little deviation from the gentlemanly norm makes things far more interesting, I have no intention of deviating at this time.
