Phoenix Burning by Patti O'Shea

Author:Patti O'Shea [Patti O'Shea]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Literature & Fiction, Romance, Paranormal, Vampires, Series, Harlequin Nocturne
ISBN: 9781459255562
Amazon: B00FBZKZJU
Barnesnoble: B00FBZKZJU
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2014-01-01T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Phoenix tapped her foot against the leg of her chair and stared at the words on the screen in front of her. She hadn’t worked on the screenplay she was supposed to be writing. Instead of the cute romantic comedy that was her project in progress, she’d written some kind of paranormal suspense story—one with so much sex, it would be suitable only for the adult entertainment industry.

She heard the shower shut off and sighed. Ivar was going to be a problem. Or more accurately, her inability to say no to him was going to be a problem.

Show me how much you want me, she’d told him. She’d expected hard and fast and crazed. That wasn’t what he’d given her. No, Ivar had made love to her and stolen her brain cells with every soft caress. Why else had she allowed him to hang around and protect her the last three days? Not because of any ongoing threat, that was for sure.

That also explained why she’d spent hours writing vampire porn with a hero who bore more than a passing resemblance to Ivar and had cast herself as his intrepid and highly sexed heroine. Stupidity also covered why she worried over him while he slept, fearful of how out of it he was. If a vampire hunter ever showed up, he would be helpless, staked without ever waking up.

After saving her file, Phoenix closed the program and shut down the laptop. She needed to tell Ivar to go home. For three nights she’d fed only from him—not just once, but multiple times. She’d kill him if she didn’t convince him to leave, but she hadn’t dressed like a woman about to send a man packing. No, she’d put on close-fitting yoga pants and a matching sports bra, and while the gear was casual, it was also sexy.

Yep, she’d definitely lost her mind.

“Perhaps it’s only your common sense,” Ivar said from behind her.

Phoenix swiveled in her seat, but her glare lost all its heat when she saw him wearing nothing except jeans. Damn, his body was perfect, all lean muscle and hard angles. His damp hair fell across his forehead and into his eyes and it underlined his intensity. She wanted to run her hands over his broad chest and shoulders, explore each ridge of his abs, and then push the denim out of her way and—”Put the rest of your clothes on!”

He gave her that slow, sinful smile of his. “Why? You’ve seen me wearing less.”

She had and she’d run her hands all over his body and kissed him everywhere, too. And when she’d gone down on him—damn she wanted to do that again.

“We can arrange that.” Ivar reached for his waistband.

“Keep your pants on and stop delving into my head. I don’t like it.”

“Sorry. I’ll try. It’s hard because there are times you broadcast at full volume and I can’t find a way to block it.”

Phoenix scowled. “You shouldn’t be able to read my thoughts or send your thoughts to me.

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