Out now from Freya's Bower - the companion story to Mating, the #5 werewolf list story at ARe! You can pre-order today or buy tomorrow by clicking HERE. This story is a budget minded $1.99!
Excerpt:
The waiter cleared the plates and Dante slipped him a few Euros. He smiled gratefully. She rose and began to inch her way out of the dining car. A few feet from the door, an elbow slammed painfully into her side. Her gaze traveled upward to find a pair of worried green eyes. The handsome man from across the aisle stood there, an apologetic expression on his face.
“I’m so sorry,” he murmured. “Did I hurt you? These kids...they have no respect.” He turned his head, glaring at the crowd of Goths who had pushed him.
Dante smiled, her heart beginning to race. He looked divine up close. All gorgeous eyes in a sculptured face.
She drew a deep breath and said, “I’m fine. No harm. No foul.”
Taking the deep breath had been a mistake, she realized. His scent filled her nostrils and permeated her senses. He smelled like melted dark chocolate. She swallowed hard. Most of the men she met never engaged her interest. Tonight, however, her libido decided to work overtime.
“Let me,” the handsome man replied in a low voice as smooth and rich as his dark chocolate scent.
He held the door for her and she stepped into the adjoining carriage car. Turning her head, she gazed at him from beneath her lashes. He stepped in behind her and shut the door. Shaking his hair back from his eyes, he smiled at her.
Her heart slammed against her breastbone. She suddenly understood her body’s crazy reactions, but not what made him so special. To most people, he would have appeared quite ordinary, dressed in faded jeans that molded his thighs and narrow hips. Beneath his caramel colored sheepskin-lined jacket, a grey designer t-shirt stretched across his broad chest. Totally unremarkable clothing and yet, he wore them as if they were his skin. His tall, lean frame excited Dante so much he might as well have been standing before her naked with every muscle and sinew on display. She wondered what it would take to get him naked.
She blinked, pulled from her reverie by his smile and the movement of his arm as he held out his hand. “I’m Ranulf Verlaine. Are you in this car?”
Dante shook her head automatically. She had a first-class sleeper car for two, even though she traveled alone. Her hand reached for his and as their palms met, her skin tingled. The tingle became a raging brushfire. Her self-control stretched paper- thin as she fought not to grab him and pull his head down to hers.
“Dante Allerton,” she replied huskily, her senses going crazy as his scent and touch mesmerized her. “I’m in the first-class sleeper.”
She couldn’t look away from his eyes, but somewhere in her sex-fogged brain his name registered. Verlaine...The renowned pack outside of Paris. He was a wolf...a werewolf. For a moment, she tried to remember what she knew of Alphas, Betas, and wolf hierarchy, but the sexual lure he presented distracted her. She couldn’t make her brain concentrate when her body screamed to have him.
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