Immortal Obsession by Linda Thomas-Sundstrom

Author:Linda Thomas-Sundstrom
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2014-10-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

She was not prepared for the breathtaking sight of Christopher St. John in the hotel’s ambient light. She had to speak to keep from beating at him with her fists over the chaos he was causing with her resolve.

“I have a funny feeling that your voice speaks to me inside my head,” she said.

“The voice of good conscience, I hope,” he returned.

“If this leads to those girls, I’ll be the first to let you know.”

He nodded. “My car is waiting, as promised.”

“If the place we’re going is around the corner, I’d rather walk.” She really needed a blast of chilly London air to cool her off.

Acquiescing, St. John moved aside without touching her, though she was sure he’d thought about it. Worse yet, she had. He had donned a fresh shirt and a black leather jacket, brought to him by the chauffeur of his car, no doubt.

“I hope there aren’t any gangs roaming around tonight.” Her tone was harsher than she would have liked. Self-defense, she guessed. St. John was staring at her mouth, at the blood she tasted on it.

She wiped her lips with the back of her hand.

“I can assure you those same monsters won’t be here,” he said.

She felt a stir of air on the side of her face when he waved off his driver. The car he’d alluded to was a black Mercedes. St. John, himself, was a streamlined Ferrari.

He wore expensive clothes and had a chauffeur, and had never actually mentioned what he did for a living. She hadn’t thought to ask. Big reminder: she knew nothing about him, and her skills as a journalist were sadly lacking whenever he was around.

Taking a quick visual sweep of the street turned up an uncomfortable lack of people. The incident in her room remained a silent undercurrent between herself and the man beside her as they walked.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“The hotel is called Germand.”

The deepness of St. John’s voice was similar to a smooth caress between her thighs. Her mouth wasn’t the only body part feeling bruised as she pulled those thighs together.

“Inside, there’s a private area where local businessmen and dignitaries often go,” he explained.

“Dignitaries? What would four college girls be doing in a place like that?”

“They would have to be invited.”

Madison stopped walking. “College girls? That doesn’t sound right.”

There wasn’t any point in explaining about her instincts and how they worked, especially since her initial instincts hadn’t been wrong about him. But she knew something. The place St. John was taking her to was off. Just hearing the name of that hotel gave her shivers. The Germand wasn’t right, somehow.

“Do you go there?” she asked.

“Never.”

Somehow, that made her feel better. When St. John walked on, Madison followed.

“I take it someone saw the girls there?” she said.

“They stayed at the hotel for a couple of nights.”

Madison stopped again, perplexed. “Are you kidding? Why hasn’t that come out?”

St. John turned around to face her. “Maybe they were broke, flattered, and it was an offer too good to refuse.

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