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“Actually, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the beignets you mentioned earlier.” There’s a hint of an English Yorkshire accent in her voice, soft and musical and just as alluring as the rest of her.
“Good choice. I’ll have Antonio bring you up a dozen when the next batch is ready. You can go straight up to your room and unwind.”
“Wonderful. Thank you.”
When she gets up from the table, I know I should take that as my cue to leave as well, but I decide to watch from the growing shade of the towering buildings a while longer, needing to unravel the threads of this mystery a little more.
I track the sound of the woman’s footsteps until they’re swallowed up by the sounds of the hotel and then watch the windows for someone arriving in their suite.
There—the one on the corner just above the restaurant.
It’s not long before she steps out onto the balcony, giving me another glimpse of her beauty. She bends and leans her elbows against the black, iron railing, inhaling the fresh air and admiring the view.
More than anything, I want to go to her, to feel her skin against mine, to taste her blood and know her secrets.
But I’m afraid.
Afraid of what I might do to her—of what she might do to me if I give in to this hunger.
Her every move stirs something deep within me.
Too soon, she retreats into the hotel, locks the French doors that lead out to the balcony, and starts setting wards in place for the coming night.
Good. The city is a dangerous place for an out-of-town witch on her own. Even one as seemingly powerful as this one. Impressively, I can feel the tingle of her magic from across the street before it settles into place.
Through the sheer curtains of her room, I catch silhouette glimpses of the witch as she peels off layers of clothing. Her arms rise over her head along with her shirt… Her long curls fall in a heavy cascade… Her fingers reach for the clasp of her bra…
I look away quickly. I should leave—go back to the club for breakfast and forget about this witch.
Except I can’t.
In a blur of preternatural speed, I ride the shadows, climb the iron railings, and settle in the darkest corner of her balcony.
What am I doing?
The answer is obvious. I’m proving Sebastian right and letting my curiosity lead me down a dangerous path.
I’m about to force myself to leave when sounds of feminine pleasure drift from within the witch’s hotel room. I stop dead as a soft groan of appreciation accompanies the gentle lapping of water as she slips into a hot bath.
Unbidden, erotic images of silky flesh flash into my mind and then the water ripples against her movements and she lets out a breathy gasp.
Wait. Is she…?
The resulting moan confirms my suspicions.
Yeah, all right. She really is treating herself to a self-care day. By the sounds of it, she is beyond due for some ‘me time.’
Hearing her pleasure has my cock jumping in my jeans. I groan, straightening. Even in the shadows, there are enough empowered people in this city who could see me or discover me. And since I don’t possess the gift of invisibility, I’m left in unfulfilled anguish.
Her breathing and the splooshing of water grow more erratic. With my heightened hearing, the wanton sounds echo as if I’m in there with her.
I close my eyes and imagine that I am. I picture myself reaching across the steaming tub, the scent of lavender mixing with her arousal. I imagine dipping my fingers beneath the water to skim against her skin.
Slowly… deliberately…
I move my hand over hers and find her—
A knock on the door has my eyes snapping open and sends the woman’s heart racing for all the wrong reasons.
