The Scarlet Night by French Nicole

Author:French, Nicole [French, Nicole]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, Contemporary, Adult
ISBN: 9781950663057
Amazon: B07YXGZ5WD
Goodreads: 48704993
Publisher: Raglan Publishing
Published: 2019-11-27T08:00:00+00:00

Seven

Hand in hand, Nina and I bumped into each other in a daze of wine and food as we exited the restaurant. Just above the city, I caught a gleam of one of the few stars that emerged on the other side of the city’s haze of light. The sky was clear. The rain was gone. And I could not wait to pull this woman into my arms.

“Well,” I said as we stopped at the curb. “What now, beautiful?”

She looked up, and her lips parted. “I suppose…it is late…” Her eyes darted around, as unwilling to meet mine as she was to finish a damn sentence. She obviously wanted this night to continue, but for some reason wouldn’t say it. Nina was a lady, through and through. She needed to be finessed.

“It’s still early,” I said. “Technically speaking. We could grab a bagel somewhere. Or maybe some more bread.”

She rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t hide her smile. “Oh, no. I couldn’t eat another bite.”

We were searching for reasons to stay together. Every reason but the one that was clearly on both our minds.

Well, I’d had enough of that.

“Or we could call it a night,” I said. “What do you think?”

I tipped her chin toward me, urging her to look at me. When she did, I found I couldn’t meet her eyes anyway. I was too hypnotized by her mouth.

Her tongue, a tease of pink, slipped out. “Think about what?”

I took a step closer. “Nina.”

“I—yes.”

I didn’t need any more than that. My mouth found hers in a fury, fitting to her sweet, soft, pillowy lips. She opened naturally, and my tongue slipped in, eager to taste as much as she would offer.

Jesus. Mary. All the fuckin’ saints. I’d forsake every one of them for another kiss like this.

When I broke away, Nina’s hands were gripping the lapels of my coat so tightly the thing would probably be permanently wrinkled. Her knees had buckled—she was fully dependent on me to hold her up at the waist. She gasped, like she had just emerged from a deep dive.

“You all right, doll?” I asked, licking my lips. I needed another taste.

She exhaled. “I’m fine, yes. It’s only...well, no one has ever done that before.”

I balked. “No one has ever kissed you? How old are you?” The idea was fuckin’ unfathomable.

Nina grinned, and then pressed her forehead on my shoulder and laughed. Hard.

When I was a kid, our priest, Father di Lorenzo, told us that if we got to heaven, the pearly gates would open, and the angels’ singing would sound like bells. Now I was fucking sure I heard them, but it was in this woman’s laughter. And I wasn’t dead. I was very much alive, standing on a dark street corner in New York City with Nina Astor in my arms.

And in that moment, I knew without a doubt: I’d sell my soul to the devil himself to hear that sound again.

“No, silly,” she said as she pushed me lightly, seemingly unaware of the sudden spell she had cast.

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