A low chuckle wafted on the night.
Eyes widening, she drew her second sword and turned in a
slow circle. ""Damn it! Show yourself!""
""Well, since you asked so nicely,"" a deep voice laced with
a French accent purred behind her.
Gasping, she spun around and swung a shoto.
Once more, he caught her wrist. ""Careful."" The warning was
gentle, carrying neither malice nor anger.
Krysta stared.
His touch sent electricity tickling its way up her arm. His
flesh was warm, his long fingers free of callouses.
Her heart slammed against her ribs as butterflies erupted in
her stomach. She should be furious. Frightened. Instead, she
felt as excited as she would on a first date.
Crap.
Stepping back, she withdrew her arm from his grasp.
Dropping his hand, he tilted his head and studied her with
those entrancing amber eyes.
Yeah, he was hot all right.
Short midnight hair glinted in the moonlight. Faint stubble
shadowed a strong jaw. Straight nose. Broad shoulders. What
was clearly a well-developed, muscular build beneath a black
T-shirt that clung to him courtesy of the vampire blood that
saturated its front. Slim waist. Slim hips. All revealed by
the gap in the long black coat he wore.
She didn't let her gaze stray further. The last thing she
wanted to do while facing him was blush like a school girl
if he had a nice package.
His tempting lips stretched in a slow smile.