Tristan's Temptation by York Sabrina

Author:York, Sabrina [York, Sabrina]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Erotica
ISBN: 9781419938795
Publisher: Jasmine Jade
Published: 2012-05-25T07:00:00+00:00

She had a date.

Tristan stood back in the shadows and glared down at Shannon’s patio. He could hear the music floating on the night wind through the open doors and he clenched his fist.

She had a date.

He wished they’d come out onto the patio so he could get a good look at the bastard. He hoped he was dumpy. Bucktoothed. And bald.

And then they appeared. The two of them. They walked out onto the patio—he sauntered, the cocky prick—to take in the view. The beautiful, romantic view. Tristan fumed and glared at the view. Damn that view. Why couldn’t it be hideously repulsive?

And what was with her date?

He wasn’t dumpy. Not in the least. The guy probably lifted weights all day long to get a physique like that. And he certainly wasn’t bald. And—damn it all anyway—his teeth were perfect. They glinted in the moonlight when he smiled. Even from here. Hell.

His heart hitched as Shannon moved closer to the Adonis and slipped into his arms. Together, they twirled across the patio. Muted music wafted through the still night on an errant zephyr and he snarled. He slammed into his house and emerged a minute later with his binoculars. The guy had his hand on the small of her back, fingers splayed as they danced, and she looked happy. Happy, for Christ’s sake!

Then the guy dipped her. Dipped her.

Tristan’s eyes narrowed when she laughed up at her date as though she was enjoying this dance more than anything.

Hell. She’d enjoyed fucking him a damn sight more, he’d wager. She’d better have.

When they disappeared into the house, Tristan lost it. He trained the binoculars on the sliding glass doors but they didn’t reappear and the music became softer, more intimate. A new CD came on. Tristan had to strain to make out the slow, jazzy strains filtering out into the night, but to him it sounded like the perfect music for…

Hell.

He dragged his fingers through his hair, imagining all sorts of sleazy scenarios until, finally, he couldn’t take it any longer. Knowing he was acting like an immature ass but unable to help himself, he hopped into his car, sped down the hill to her house and laid on the doorbell.

The chime echoed through the house but no one answered the door. Where were they? And what were they doing?

Hell!

Tristan rang the bell again in a staccato fashion and was gratified to hear Bosco let out a series of barks and growls, his nails scratching against the door. That would bring them. Wouldn’t it?

And then he heard her voice—music to his ears. “Bos!” she called. “Stop that.” Tristan smiled as he noted a change in the tenor of her voice. She was coming closer.

The door opened and she was there, bending slightly to hold on to Bosco’s collar as he attempted to leap on the intruder. She was there and, thank God, fully dressed. He’d arrived in time to stop any illicit behavior. His feral grin widened.

“Hey, Shannon.”

“Tristan?” Her lovely brow quirked upward, the British form of surprise.

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