Total pages in book: 51
Estimated words: 47359 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 237(@200wpm)___ 189(@250wpm)___ 158(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47359 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 237(@200wpm)___ 189(@250wpm)___ 158(@300wpm)
He sounded so civilized and so normal that Lara grew more annoyed. Why had he treated her in such a ridiculous fashion? Why hadn’t he simply told her that he wasn’t interested in speaking with her and send her on her way?
He approached her slowly, almost predatorily. And she was damn glad she was leaving.
He stopped next to the door, taking hold of the handle. “That was Martha. She has calls for her bed & breakfast forwarded to her sister’s place when she’s not there. Your car service called and cancelled. The snow has already started and with predictions worse than they first thought, they won’t endanger their driver or you. It looks like you’ll be my guest for the duration.”
“Hell no! I’ll find someplace to stay, but it won’t be with you,” she said and shoved his hand off the door to swing it open. Her heart dropped along with her mouth at the sight of the blizzard-like conditions. She could barely make out what was in front of her, since the snow was falling so heavily.
Michael pulled the door closed and turned the lock. The click sounded so final, as if a jailer was locking her in and there would be no escape. She was trapped with a sexy hunk of a man who thought himself a vampire. It sounded more like the setting of a romance novel than real life. But she was no swooning heroine.
She looked Michael Valaine straight in those dark eyes of his and felt like a fool saying, “Tell me you’ve been playing me and that you’re no vampire.”
“Oh, sweetheart, if only I could.”
His eyes began to glow red, his lips curled back, fangs dropped down, and Lara fainted.
CHAPTER 3
Lara wrestled herself awake. Part of her was eager to wake and the other part screamed, don’t open your eyes, don’t open your eyes! She struggled with herself a bit longer and finally her eyes sprung open and as she did, she bolted up to find herself on a bed. She quickly backpedaled until her back hit the headboard. Her heart beat wildly as her eyes scanned the fair-sized bedroom and, to her relief, found herself alone.
Images of blood-red eyes and fangs assaulted her, and she cringed at the memory. He couldn’t be. He just couldn’t be.
Michael Alexandru Valaine couldn’t be a vampire. Vampires did not exist. They were creatures produced by fear and overactive imaginations.
Then why the glowing red eyes and fangs?
“Get control of yourself, Lara,” she scolded aloud. There’s a reasonable explanation for everything, she silently reminded. Perhaps he has a set of retractable vampire fangs that seemed to be the all the rage with vampire enthusiasts. Whatever it was, she was going to have to find out. After all she was stuck here with him until the snowstorm ended. Then she was going to get out of here so fast that he wouldn’t even see her leave.
A thought hit her, and she jumped off the bed and ran to one of the two windows in the room and pushed aside the beige, floor-length drapes. Her shoulders slumped as she rested her brow against the cold pane. She hoped that perhaps there was a chance she could trek it out of there before the snow got too deep, but with several inches already on the ground and blinding snow, it would be foolish of her to even attempt it. She was stuck here for the duration.
She turned and noticed that her small suitcase sat on the tufted-topped, green bench at the end of the bed. She also noticed that the room appeared as if it had been prepared for a visitor. A fire crackled in the fireplace, a crystal carafe of water and a single glass sat on a silver serving tray on top of the lone bureau, and a lovely, long purple robe lay draped over the beige chaise that sat perfectly positioned for enjoying the fire.
She shivered. Had it been his intentions for her to stay all along? But he had walked her to the door, had all intentions to let her leave, and then the phone call, the snow—and those damn fangs. She shook her head.
Another tremble racked her body. She had no choice but to go find him and discover what really was going on. He could not be a vampire; vampires didn’t exist. She intended to keep repeating that over and over, hoping it would ease the knot that was growing ever tighter in her stomach.
She slipped out of her red jacket and plaid scarf and lowered herself to the bench, grasping both against her chest. It just dawned on her that he had to have carried her here to this room, which no doubt was on the second floor or perhaps third? She was no petite woman. She stood a good five feet six inches, taller in heels, which she loved to wear, and was one hundred and forty plus pounds. She wasn’t all hard muscle, though she was toned since she loved to walk the hiking trails in the park near her home. But carrying her two or three flights, and in her jacket, had to have been a chore—not for a vampire.