Regency Dracula 03 - The Vampire Narcise by Colleen Gleason

Author:Colleen Gleason [Gleason, Colleen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, Fiction, Paranormal, vampire
ISBN: 9781459233126
Google: 7GCHpME3acMC
Amazon: 077832995X
Publisher: Mira
Published: 2011-05-24T07:00:00+00:00

12

Narcise recognized both surprise and satisfaction in his eyes. His body still held her sword arm in place against the wall. And his arm, wedged beneath her chin, was making it difficult for her to swallow, but despite the stake in his hand, she had no fear.

If he used it, then she hoped he’d make it quick and put her out of her misery.

But if he didn’t…perhaps he was the man she’d been waiting for.

“You’ve heard of me?” he said, easing up the slightest bit on her throat so that she wasn’t looking up so sharply.

“But your reputation precedes you, Monsieur Wood-more.” She switched from French to English, with which she was more comfortable even after more than a decade here in Paris.

Indeed, everyone knew of the fearless and clever vampir hunter Chas Woodmore. How he’d somehow scaled a sheer cliff and sneaked into the mountaintop castle of the bloodthirsty Darrod Firvin to stake the man in his sleep. And how he’d tricked the princes of Tylenia and Tynnien into climbing aboard a small ship so that he could slay them as well.

The Dracule all murmured of the dark-haired Gypsy gentleman who slipped in and out of the shadows like a vampir himself, silent and deadly like a servant of Death. Ironically those who told the tales were ones who’d never actually met the man, for those who did weren’t alive to tell the tales.

Which was probably why no one had included in their tales the fact that he was handsome as a dark angel, with thick black hair and intense green-brown eyes. And that he smelled like danger, tight and dark and manly. She scented a bit of blood on him, too, but it didn’t smell like it would be his.

“My reputation?” White teeth flashed in his swarthy face, and he inched his arm away a bit more, but kept her sword arm pinned to the wall with his solid body. “Is that so? And here I thought my accomplishments went largely unnoticed.”

“I do hope you don’t find such modesty too painful,” she replied. “And I would appreciate it if you’d either drive that stake into my heart or remove your arm from my throat.”

“You don’t have a preference?” he asked. He seemed sincere.

Narcise shrugged, and she realized that although she’d managed to catch her breath from their brief battle, she still felt a bit breathless. This man might be more than a match for her. “There are advantages to both.”

“Drop your sword and I’ll release you,” he said.

She complied, and he kicked the épée across the floor of her parlor. When he stepped away, his arm moving from her, she adjusted the sleeves of her manshirt, pulling them back down over her wrists. “Why are you here?”

He ignored her question and asked, “You’re Narcise?” She inclined her head and felt his eyes sweep over her. Before she could react, his hand whipped out and grabbed her arm, pulling it away from her body. “How did this happen?”

She didn’t

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