Kiss Me Forever. Rosemary Laurey

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СКАЧАТЬ to hold it gently—no point in mangling doorknobs and getting unwanted attention. He stepped into the crowded bar, every nerve and sense alert and watchful. He froze. She was in here. He knew it. Nonsense! His senses hadn’t developed that well. He might sense a known quarry when he hunted, but not this unknown Miss LePage. Besides, he wasn’t hunting her. His only interest in her was an invitation into her house. The village telegraph claimed she’d arrived but the house was as deserted as ever.

      Why did he sense her so keenly? Was she one of them? A member of another colony? Maybe. If Justin was to be believed, Vlad Tepes had half-populated the States with his off-spring, but only mortals filled the crowded bar. He’d have scented one of his own kind immediately. He glanced around, nodding at familiar faces, noting the visitors, and found her almost at once.

      Why? He just knew her the minute he saw her, sitting alone with a book. Auburn curls fell across her face as she read. He had a glimpse of smooth skin and a creamy hollow at the base of her neck. He sensed, scented the richness of her and forced himself to concentrate on the task in hand. He couldn’t afford distractions. No matter how desirable.

      A man walked across the bar to her table. Eyes green as church window glass looked up from beneath silky lashes. Angry eyes in a calm, cold face. Given the man standing over her, he didn’t blame her. Caughleigh’s nephew! She had brains equal to her looks if she already disliked Chadwick. She wrinkled her nose as if assailed by an unsavory smell. Kit smiled to himself, noted the glass she clutched like a weapon, and crossed to Vernon at the bar.

      Close up, her skin had the bloom of early roses. The pulse at the base of her neck beat in perfect rhythm beneath flawless skin. She smelled of night air, lavender soap, and human blood. She never even noticed him. Her attention was focused on Chadwick. Her irritation was focused on Chadwick. The quiet thud of heavy glass on wood broke the tension as Kit put a new Guinness in front of her.

      “Here you are, sorry it took so long.”

      She looked up. “River emeralds” was a better description for her eyes. Such sensuality didn’t belong in any church window. She gaped when he put the second glass on the table. He let her gape and turned his will on Chadwick. He wasn’t hard to bend.

      “Marlowe? You’re with her? I…I never…I didn’t…didn’t realize.” His pale eyes popped like a demented Pekingese.

      “Really?” One word. That was all it took.

      “Didn’t know you were with Dixie. See you later.” James grabbed his tankard and disappeared into the crush.

      Kit took the empty seat. “May I join you?”

      She looked straight at him, chin up, her brows creased, studying him like a specimen. She met him eye to eye without faltering, a flicker of amusement twitching the corner of her mouth. Was she mere mortal? With a presence like this? With her ancestry, who knew?

      “Suppose I say no?”

      “Suppose I retire and give Chadwick another chance?”

      “Too late, he just left.”

      “I’m desolate.”

      “I’ll bet you are! You chased him off deliberately. What if you’ve destroyed a great romance?”

      He liked her sense of humor. “I didn’t.”

      The corner of her mouth tightened. He’d infuriated her. Women hadn’t changed no matter how much the world had. “What makes you so sure?”

      Elbows on table, he rested his chin on his hand. “I could smell the antagonism between you.”

      She opened her mouth to complain. Then shook her head and smiled as their eyes met. “Could you also smell too much beer?”

      “Any amount is too much for Chadwick.” He leaned back in the chair and watched her, willing himself to ignore the warm blood singing through her veins. “You despise him.”

      She shook her head. “I wouldn’t go that far. He irked me the first time I met him. He isn’t my type. You can’t despise someone you’ve only known one day.”

      “It’s possible. Trust your instincts.”

      “Yes, much safer than trusting a stranger who tries to pick me up in a pub.” She looked around as Vernon thumped a plate down in front of her.

      Her dinner. Good. A nice distraction. Dixie stared at the plate in front of her. A jacket potato was baked, without sour cream. She wanted to eat and read in peace. Fat chance. Man number two was a distinct improvement over James but anything would be. Dixie mashed butter into her potato as she thought about the tall man sitting opposite. He wasn’t that tall. He just blocked out the rest of the room with his broad shoulders, black turtleneck and black slacks. All he lacked was the black hat to complete the villain outfit. But he had disposed of James Chadwick for her. That was a definite recommendation. Even if he looked like Long John Silver with his eye patch.

      “Bon appetit,” he said.

      She looked him straight in the eye. Straight in his one eye, dark and warm as velvet. “You’re going to sit there and watch me eat?”

      The corner of his eye wrinkled. Was he smiling? “You’d rather I left?” Placing his hands flat on the polished tabletop, he made to stand.

      “No!” She grabbed his wrist. Stunned at her action, she met his eye again. This time the smile was unmistakable.

      He looked down at the hand circling his wrist. “I’ll stay, if you insist. Why don’t you eat before it gets cold?”

      Dixie didn’t think she’d ever be cold again. But he was. His wrist felt cold and dry. Hardly surprising, the night was cool. Hadn’t she gone back for a sweatshirt? She took her hand off his wrist. “I’ve no idea who you are.”

      “The name’s Marlowe, Christopher Marlowe.” Dixie noticed a silver signet ring with a black stone on his offered hand.

      Long, cold fingers met hers. Strong, cold fingers. “Here to meet Will Shakespeare?” His fingers stiffened in her hand. His brow wrinkled. “Sorry. It just slipped out. I bet everyone you meet makes that crack.”

      “You’re not the first.” He smiled. He had a very nice smile. She wasn’t about to think about his smile. Or the goose bumps on her arm. Holding his hand was quite enough. More than enough. She shook it and then let go.

      “I’m Dixie LePage.”

      “Great-niece and heiress of the renowned Misses Underwood. Just arrived from America in one of Stanley Collins’s vehicles. Staying with Emily Reade for the nonce.”

      He had her gaping for the second time. “How did you…?” She gave up. Maybe jet lag caused terminal confusion.

      “Village telegraph. It’s chronicled your progress since you drove into town. Someone, somewhere already knows your shoe size, the color of your toothbrush, and how many sugars you take in your tea.”

      “Just like small towns everywhere.”

      He nodded. Slim fingers stroked the stem of his glass. “You may find Bringham…unusual.”

      “May? I СКАЧАТЬ