Dangerous Lovers: Roses and Thorns
Published by: eXtasy Books
Author : Lark Westerly
Word Count :77250
Publication Date :2011-06-19
Series : #
Heat Level :
- Product Code: 978-1-55410-081-1
What do all the characters in this anthology have in common? They all make dangerous lovers on Valentine's Day.
A lady of the night is wooed by a vampire hunter.
A stud male falls in love with his importer.
A werebitch stalks the hermit of her desires.
A fairy indulges her taste for mortal men.
A faceless vampire offers perilous comfort.
An immortal businessman hires a PA.
A princess uses devious means to procure a lover, and a handsome witch sells cleaners, door-to-door.
What do all these characters have in common? They all make dangerous lovers on Valentine's Day.
The girl was passing down an alleyway. It was a foggy night, and the occasional gleams of headlights made little impression on the general air of chill and damp. She wore black shoes with stiletto heels, sheer black stockings and a little black cocktail dress that hugged her tight bottom and curved around her thighs. A black feather boa provided a skimpy wrap, and she had black curly hair, languorous black eyes, high cheekbones and a mouth that was red as a poppy. She sauntered along, picking her way past cardboard cartons and flotsam in the gutter, slim, young and alone.
She was a working girl.
Three toughs in leather were strolling down the alley. She assessed them coolly and decided on discretion. She could have taken any man in the city, but when it was a case of several, things were more complicated. If she were feeling reckless, she could accommodate all three against the cold wall of the theatre, standing tall on her stilettos and challenging her clients to take her where she stood. Some of them found it exciting to watch their mates; their money stayed in their pockets and their consciences stayed intact while their imaginations made good the details of slippery warmth and the tight warm curve of her buttocks in their hands. Sometimes they'd settle for spectating, sometimes they'd demand a run of their own. Tonight, it would have been risky to have engaged with three; her hunger might have overtaken her before it was time. It had happened once before.
She slipped past them like a shadow, and when one of them shivered and half-lifted his hand in an ancient, half-remembered sign, then that was proof that she had made no mistake in passing them by.
* * *
A man watched from the shadows. He saw the girl, the blend of waif and woman. He saw her gift for slipping through the shadows. He had that gift himself. He saw the tough's hand lifted in the ancient warding sign. He watched the hesitation, the recovered swagger.
His name was Tor, and his face and figure matched the name. It was an open face, with honest eyes of blazing blue. It had a generous mouth and hair that shone like honey in the sun. It was a reckless face, a face that could be moved to pity and to justice. He watched the girl with her airy stride, with her boa that hung like wings down her slender back.
He had watched this girl before.