Eternal Hunger (1) by Wright Laura

Author:Wright, Laura [Wright, Laura]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Romance, Paranormal, Fiction
ISBN: 9781101443750
Publisher: Penguin
Published: 2010-10-05T07:00:00+00:00

22

Alexander stood outside Sara’s bedroom door—the bedroom she’d moved all of her things into sometime after leaving the living room an hour ago.

The bedroom that was an entire floor away from his.

Pressing his head against the wood, he flared his nostrils and inhaled, splitting her scent into physical and emotional fragments. His mouth pulled into a frown. She was still awake, yes, but she was pissed off, distracted, turned on, jealous, and . . . very worried.

He lifted his hand to the wood and knocked, the heady anticipation of seeing her running wild through his veins. Christ. Why was he so taken with this woman, so driven to protect her and see her happy? What did he even know about her besides the story of that horrific accident that would’ve broken anyone else but had only made her stronger, more determined, living to heal the brother she loved before she even thought about healing herself? What did he know about her besides the fact that she was the kind of human who had helped drag a vampire animal inside her home and out of the sun when she could’ve easily kicked him aside?

Perhaps that was knowing enough.

He heard her footfalls coming toward him, scented her unease, and when she finally opened the door, he was prepared to give her the food he’d brought, ask if she needed anything else, and leave her to sleep. But then he saw her: barefoot, her dark hair, thick and soft, falling around her beautiful face, and wearing a white silk bathrobe that caressed her luscious frame as his own hands would if given the chance. She looked like a goddamn angel, and he wanted nothing more than to bury his head between her breasts and feel her wings close around him.

“It’s late.” She stood in the doorway, her blueberry eyes weary as she barred him entrance.

He stared at her, his covetous gaze unwavering. “Why aren’t you in bed, then?”

“Who says I wasn’t?” she returned softly.

“Are you having trouble sleeping?”

“A little.”

His voice dropped to a whisper. “It’s probably because you moved out of my room.”

Her eyes flashed with sudden heat. “I never moved into your room.”

He shrugged. “Technicality.”

She paused for a moment, her gaze sweeping over him, resting on the large brown bag in his hand. “What do you have there?”

“Dinner.” He raised his brows suggestively. “Best Chinese in the city.”

“How would you know that?”

“What do you mean?”

“I heard about your eating habits, the lack of solid food.”

“Dillon talks too damn much,” he grumbled.

“It wasn’t Dillon,” she told him, her eyes revealing the sadness and frustration she wouldn’t say aloud.

Alexander leaned against the doorjamb, hovering just inches from her, and inhaled deeply. “Let me in, Sara.”

Sara stared at him, her insides melting, not at the words he’d uttered, but at the reverent, vulnerable, teasingly pained way he’d uttered them. Perhaps both of them wished they could just walk away from the imaginary string that connected them, that demanded they remain close and pretend they were unaffected by each other, but that seemed an impossibility.

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