To save her ghost-hunting career, psychic Kayde Foster must confront an evil and darkly attractive entity that has taken up residence in her uncle's business.
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Kayde prides herself on being fearless. Ghosts? Crumbling buildings? Scary legends? No...
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I knocked on the door and held my breath. Sweat beaded on my forehead, my stomach doing somersaults at the thought of him. The sound of his voice. His scent. His curious magic that I somehow absorbed. Everything that should send me running for the hills.
This was going to end badly.
"Come in," came through the door, and I hesitated.
The dark, velvety tones of his voice made the fine hairs on my body stand on end. It went right to my core, heating parts of me that have no business being heated.
Screw it. If he tells you no and laughs at you, so what? You'll end up just having to stab him with that dagger after all.
It would solve all of my problems, and I knew that ethically, I was in the right. He was far from a good guy. If only I had a bit more courage to fall through with it. Courage like that takes some time to muster, and I had little time.
I ignored my shaking—or tried to—and stepped inside his room, my gaze immediately landing on him in the far corner of the room. He was sitting in a leather-upholstered chair with a book placed in his lap. It caused me to pause, because I would've never guessed the Shadow did something so mundane as reading a book in his spare time.
He didn't even look up.
The door clicked shut behind me and then it was just me, him, and a lot of knickknacks lining the side tables. Most of it looked like jewelry; some of it looked like strange pieces of twisted wire. Artifacts I had no name for faintly glowed on some shelves. Books spanned from wall to wall above his four-poster bed, and I didn't know why, but I couldn't stop staring at where he possibly slept.
Like the rest of the room, the silky sheets on his bed were a dark wine-like red, but underneath that, some were black. A few lit candelabras bathed the area in a dim glow.
How could he read in this lighting? But he wasn't human, and that was a stupid question.
He sat in front of a large window overlooking the side of the property, the silver moonlight highlighting his massive shoulders and hair. I could have sworn I saw some blue tones in his strands at the right angle.
Just as I was about to reach out and touch a stack of books at the foot of his bed, his brilliant red eyes snapped to my face. And watched.
And watched and watched.
I have no idea what the hell I'm doing.
I would have thought he was frozen if it wasn't for that slow smirk spreading on his face. Good god, he was menacing and... sexy. Sinfully so. The room seemed to grow colder, the air thick with an unsettling tension.
Sexual? Maybe.
You liar. It's totally sexual. No matter the weird hate-thing you've got going between you guys.
