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his need for blood, but his fear that his lust would drive him to feast on Hope's beauty had been real. As of tonight, he'd put that fear to bed. No longer would he use mortals as a dinner 88 Dunbar's Curse entree. Zacke had managed for centuries to avoid the taste of human blood. It was time for a change. He would talk to Zacke about getting his own blood bank started. Miles made sure no one was around before he took to the sky. Gone was his desire to navigate the darkness looking for something anything to fill the hole in his heart. He had a place to go now. And he planned to talk to Hope and get everything out in the open before the next sunrise. **** Guy finished dressing and then placed a hundred dollar bill on the hotel's bedside table. The hooker had been worth the price if only for the hour she'd taken his mind off of Hope. How dare she dress like a slut and parade around in front of that imbecile Miles? He'd had such plans for his and Hope's relationship to grow; especially when she'd agreed to monthly meetings. Now, she'd shown her true colors. Not only was she trying to take back control of a company she had no business running but she'd also flaunted her relationship with another man in his face. Both were facts he'd not forget or forgive. 89 Faith V. Smith Chapter Eight Hope huddled inside her terry cloth robe. Sometime during the night her dinosaur of a furnace had gone out. It was probably just the pilot light but even the few minutes it would take her to light it would seem like an eternity. The temp had dipped during the night, sending Savannah into the below freezing range. Not unheard of but certainly not welcomed. She tapped on Miles door, but didn't get an answer. She'd given up on waiting for him to come back the night before and now this& Maybe he'd gone out again, but that made no sense. It was too early, barely sunrise, and besides, Zacke would have had Miles' head for leaving her alone. Not that she was really worried. The men who robbed and attacked her had probably left Savannah by now. They were most likely in Atlanta and laughing their butts off about not being caught. Still, it was strange Miles hadn't left a note. He always told her the night before if he was going to be gone during the day. Maybe he was still with Zacke. Well, no sense wondering about her absentee bodyguard. The furnace needed to be fixed, so Hope made her way down to the kitchen and grabbed a butane lighter and flashlight from a kitchen drawer. She didn't want to take a chance on tripping on the stairs. The stairwell light had burned out a few weeks ago, and she hadn't gotten around to replacing it. The basement's one window should 90 Dunbar's Curse provide her with adequate light for the grungy job once she got down the stairs. Thank Heaven, her knee was feeling much better. So much so, she planned on going back to work in a few days. Hope turned the knob to open the basement door and found it locked. She didn't' remember locking it, but& She shivered again as she fished out a key from her junk drawer. First thing she planned to do after she lit that pilot light was to relax with a cup of hot tea. She unlocked the door, clenched her hand around the banister and started a slow descent. She wasn't really mad about Miles not being there, more like angry with herself. She'd stayed on the couch waiting for him to get home, but the next thing she knew she'd awakened on top of the bed, the coverlet pulled over her. Hope didn't remember going to bed so that meant one thing. Miles must have carried her up the stairs. She wished she'd been awake to enjoy his arms around her, and she wished they had gotten around to finishing their conversation. She really wanted Miles to make love to her. She stepped off the bottom step and almost tripped over an uneven patch of floor. She aimed the beam of light at where the window should be. What on earth? A bookcase blocked out her expected light source. Miles was the only one who could have done that, but why would he? The cold penetrated deeper, spurring Hope toward the furnace. Her foot caught on something soft but unyielding. She stumbled and ended up sitting on the something. Her hand recognized the contours of a mattress. A mattress that should have been stuffed in a corner, not lying out in the open. Once again, she sent the light spiraling over the basement, nothing else seemed out of place. She brought the beam back to shine on the mattress and a body. Her heart beat triple time before she recognized 91 Faith V. Smith the body resting on its side, a scant two feet from her hand. Miles! Why was he sleeping in the basement and not upstairs? Her hand reached out toward his arm. Should she wake him or let him sleep? Common sense won he had to be freezing. He didn't even have a sheet. This time her palm brushed his sleeve before she gently shook his shoulder. A hand caught her wrist in a cruel grip. She bit back a cry of pain. A second later she was flat on her back Miles' face above hers. But not the face she loved. His eyes were so dark they were almost black. His beautiful lips were drawn back in a snarl. A snarl that revealed one-inch incisors. The hand that held her down sported claws. Miles wasn't Miles. He was a monster. One of the beings she vaguely recalled from childhood nightmares. Only this time the nightmare was real. He lowered his head bringing his sharp teeth too close for comfort. Miles? Miles! Shades of color began to recede from his vision. Miles shook his head and tried to focus. The roaring in his ears quieted when he heard a whimper. He shook his head again. His vision sharpened, and he became aware of other things. His hand pressed against cloth-covered breasts. He looked down into the tear-filled, petrified gaze of Hope. Oh, God above. What had he almost done? What had he done? Hope, angel, I'm sorry. I won't hurt you I promise. Hope's expression didn't change. One tear rolled off her bottom lashes and crept down an ashen cheek. I swear, love. Please. If you don't believe anything else, please believe me. I wouldn't harm a hair on your head. 92 Dunbar's Curse The woman beneath him, the woman he'd tear his heart out for, closed her eyes. He watched as she took a deep breath and then another. Finally she opened her eyes. Then if you don't mind would you take your hand off my chest and let me up? Oh Lord. Miles moved so quickly he almost fell. He reached out a hand to help Hope sit up and prayed she'd take it. She didn't. Maybe if he moved back a bit more. The space of the room separated them before he found additional courage to speak. Hope, I know this seems strange but I can explain. Hope slid her legs off the mattress and then stood slowly to her feet. She took a step forward and stumbled. The look in her eyes stopped him from going to her. The tears receded, replaced with a gleam of anger. Good. Anger he could handle. Anger meant she would get over her fright. Whether or not she forgave him was another matter. Once her feet were steady, Hope straightened up. Her shoulders went back. Hope? Unless you're going to tell me this is some kind of sick joke, I have nothing to say to you. Let me explain. Explain what? That you thought it would be a hoot to dress up as a vampire. Even as a joke that makes no sense. I mean who sleeps in fangs and claws. And that brings me to another matter. Hope advanced toward Miles. Why were you sleeping in the basement in the first place? I uh, like it. You prefer sleeping in a frigid basement instead of a nice warm room? Yes, I do. You know what, you're crazy. Hope moved closer. What I don't get, is why or 93 Faith V. Smith how you could play such a cruel joke, especially after acting like you cared about me like I was someone special. You are. Yeah, well, you have a strange way of showing it, Miles Dunbar. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |
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