Page 52 of Blackthorn

“I swear,” she said.

He tilted his head, contemplating her answer, and stroked the side of her face. His touch was cold. Firelight cast a golden sheen to his moonlight-colored hair. “That’s good, sweetness.”

Heaven help her, she went weak in the knees at that faint praise.

He noticed. Of course he noticed. His eyes narrowed. Could he hear her pounding heart?

Self-consciousness overwhelmed Charlotte, forcing her to look away from his gaze.

Draven held her chin between his thumb and index finger, forcing her to look at him. “You desire a monster, Charlotte.”

Not a question. A statement of fact, because they both knew it was true.

She gulped, her mouth too dry to respond. His hold dropped as she pulled away. She retreated until her back met the solid resistance of a bookcase.

He stalked toward her, casting a long shadow across the room.

“I know you do.” He leaned forward, bringing his mouth to the shell of her ear. “What attracts you? Is it the teeth?”

His words brushed against her. Charlotte tensed, unwilling to show any weakness. He growled softly and snapped his teeth. She couldn’t fight the full-body shiver that ran through her.

“Is that why you married your first husband?” His tone was both cruel and curious. She honestly could not tell.

Charlotte took a moment to calm her thundering heart. “If you must know,” she said, her voice chilled and utterly in control, “it was his library.”

Draven laughed, a too-sharp sound, all teeth. It was viscous, as clearly a threat as if he held a knife to her throat.

And yet she still was not concerned for her well-being.

Smiling seemed the wrong response. She was not practiced at seduction and it seemed odd to feel shy now, considering what they had done together. What he had watched her do to herself.

Honesty remained her best option. She would do what came naturally and trust her instincts.

Discuss the latest novel? Debate the best methods for the prevention of insects that infested too many libraries? Ask for another kiss? Demand more?

Oh, she definitely was interested in more.

She reached out and adjusted his cravat, using the time to gather her wits and because the disheveled fabric bothered her.

Draven snarled.

“Hold still. Your cravat is a travesty,” she scolded in a teasing tone. “Just to make my position clear, he had an expansive collection but nothing as impressive as yours.” She adjusted the cravat until she found it satisfactory. “Now, are you going to kiss me again? Because I was rather enjoying myself and I believe the wormwood has worked its way out of my system.”

“You like my collection?” He gathered her in his arms again. A leg wedged itself between her knees, prompting her to widen her stance. “You want to kiss me?”

“Yes.”

“I’m not interested in a simple kiss.”

Charlotte seriously doubted that anything between them could be simple. She asked, “What are you interested in?”

He lifted her in an easy motion. She gasped at the strange sensation, wrapping her legs around his waist. No one had ever picked her up as an adult. It was disconcerting but not unpleasant.

His lips were at her throat. She stiffened, anticipating a bite, and relaxed when he licked downward. He pressed his hips forward, grinding his hard member against her.

“I hunger, and my wife is a feast,” he said, his voice low and throaty.

She absolutely shared his interest. “If you insist on having me against the bookcase, I won’t object, but there is a perfectly serviceable settee available.”

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