Dark Gold. Christine Feehan. Dark Series – book 3

“I hate that condescending I’m-so-calm-and-you’re-so-out-of-control voice you use. Don’t you ever get mad?” she blazed at him, little sparks flying from her sapphire eyes. “I’m just going to ignore you. How do I know any of this is real? I’ve never acted this way before. This could all be a dream.”

His eyebrows lifted, and a small, mocking, suggestive smile touched his mouth. “A dream?” he echoed.

“A nightmare,” she corrected with a frown. “A very bad, very vivid nightmare.”

“Would you like me to see if I can wake you up?” he offered helpfully.

“Don’t sound so arrogant and macho. It makes my skin crawl,” she snapped, because her heart was pounding all over again with fear. Did he have to be so sexy, so tempting? She didn’t know the first thing about men, but surely they weren’t all like this. Lethal. A threat to freedom.

A lazy smile softened his perfect mouth, instantly drawing her attention. “Was I sounding arrogant?” His thumb was stroking back and forth over her pulse.

She could feel each separate, caressing stroke go right through her body to collect in the pit of her stomach, to brush there like the wings of butterflies. She turned her head to escape his penetrating golden gaze, to escape that perfect mouth, and she saw the thin ribbon of scarlet that formed a path down his chest, tangled in the fine gold hair, and trickled lower still to his flat belly. Before she could think, instinctively, sensually, she lowered her head, her tongue tracking the ruby streak.

His every muscle clenched hotly, contracted and bunched. His teeth came together, and his throat worked convulsively. She possessed such a natural sensuality, and her body was so familiar with his. Her every instinct cried out for him. Alexandria was so innocent, so unaware of how close to peril she really was. Centuries of discipline were rapidly disintegrating, leaving only the dark, starving beast, needing—no, demanding—to claim its mate. Aidan couldn’t help himself. His fingers tangled in the silken hair at the nape of her neck and held her to him while the earth spun and wanted to fragment, while his body pulsed and throbbed somewhere between pain and pleasure.

Without warning, Alexandria leapt up, shoving him as hard as she could so that, in his rather precarious state of arousal, he landed on the balcony floor with a thud. He blinked up at her through hooded eyes, trying to hold back the laughter that threatened to consume him. “What?”

“Stop being so… so…” Words failed her. Sexy. Attractive. Enticing. Hands on her hips, she glared at him. “Just stop!”

* * *

Chapter Ten

The kitchen was already warm from the blaze Stefan had built in the stone fireplace. The aroma of coffee and cinnamon laced the air. Alexandria walked beside Aidan into the room, their bodies brushing occasionally. He glanced down at the top of her bent head. She was wary now, afraid of him and the implications of her physical response to him. Yet now, without her knowledge, her body instinctively sought the shelter and comfort of his. She was beneath his shoulder, his arm sliding easily around her waist, across her back. She didn’t even seem to notice.

The feel of her skin against his was driving him mad, but he walked with his usual easy grace and revealed none of his emotions on his face. He smiled at Marie as she turned from the counter, where she was beating an egg mixture in a bowl. She had so much warmth and affection in her for so many, not least for him. She humbled him with her ability to take so many into her heart.

“Aidan! Alexandria! I had no idea you were in the garden.” She was smiling at them, but her sharp eyes were taking in his carefully blank expression and the shadows in Alexandria’s eyes. “Joshua slept a little fitfully—I think he’s really missing you, dear. He’s such a sweet little boy. And his beautiful curls!”

Alexandria smiled. “He detests those curls.”

Marie nodded. “What little boy wouldn’t?” Alexandria wasn’t nearly as pale as she had been all the other times Marie had seen her, and she certainly didn’t look dead, as she had when Aidan carried her into the house. She had been well fed by Aidan, Marie was certain. She took a deep breath. “I wanted to thank you for what you did for Aidan the other night. It took courage. Stefan said Aidan would have died had you not gone to his aid. Aidan is like a son to me, or a brother. He is our friend and our family. Thank you for bringing him back to us.”

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