Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 24037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 120(@200wpm)___ 96(@250wpm)___ 80(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 120(@200wpm)___ 96(@250wpm)___ 80(@300wpm)
“I thought you were Irene.” She looked terrified, clutching her fist to her heart.
Drake did smile then. “No. I’m definitely not Irene.”
Hazel’s face turned bright red as she looked around her small kitchen. “I’m sorry about the smell.” She immediately turned on the fan above the stove and grabbed a can of air freshener from under the sink. “I was… err… cooking.”
“Perhaps you should call out for pizza.”
She wrinkled her nose. “You’re probably right.”
Having had a chance to adjust to the dominant smell, Drake could detect some of Hazel’s own unique scent. She smelled… clean, fresh. Like mountain air on a warm spring day after a light rain. Roses and strawberries with a hint of mint.
“I was passing by and heard you scream. Are you all right?”
“Oh! That. I splattered oil on a hot burner and singed my arm, then tripped. It’s nothing. I’m fine.”
He looked at her for a moment, not saying anything. There was something odd about her scent he couldn’t quite catch. Before he could puzzle it out, she started spraying the damned air freshener and the subtle scent was lost.
“Are you going to the building Halloween party?”
His first inclination was to yell a resounding “No!” Instead, he asked, “Are you?”
She fidgeted with her dress, which was drenched with foul smelling liquid. “Yes.” She cleared her throat. “For a while anyway.”
Drake narrowed his eyes as he concentrated. If he wasn’t mistaken, the girl was aroused. He could smell the sweat dampening her body. Had he interrupted something?
She was certainly dressed like she was expecting male company. Her linen dress hung loosely on her body, yet managed to frame her figure to wonderful advantage. He could discern full breasts spanning from a narrow ribcage, a tiny waist, and curvy hips. The dark, wet spot covered her from just below her breasts almost to her knees, where the skirt ended. Slender legs and bare feet peeked out from the hem and his libido kicked into gear. He could feel his fangs and claws begin to lengthen. He clasped his hands behind his back to hide them.
Damn.
With the moon full tonight, and it being a blue moon at that, it was hard for him to control the beast within him. Normally, he’d simply shift and show her his true nature.
If she were truly a witch.
Having a witch as a consort would be good for them both. He would have her power to draw upon when needed and more control over his animal side after they’d consummated their relationship -- she would have a familiar to go where she could not, and much-needed protection.
If she were truly a witch.
“I’m sorry to have interrupted you.” He smiled. “Perhaps I’ll see you at the party.”
Hazel swallowed. “Yes,” she squeaked. “That would be lovely.”
“It’s a masquerade party, you know. What will you be dressed as? I wouldn’t want to mistake someone else for you.”
“Err… I haven’t made up my mind.”
“Well,” Drake opened the door to leave, “I’ll just have to sniff you out.”
As he closed the door, Drake heard her groan and chuckled quietly to himself. She might not be a witch, but he would have her. His wolf nature demanded he seek her out.
The wolf always got what he wanted.
* * *
It took Hazel almost two hours and four showers to finally get the smell out of her hair. Although she used all kinds of moisture-filled shampoos and conditioners, her hair still dried out and frizzed terribly. She looked like she’d stuck her finger in a light socket.
With a sigh, she pulled her hair back as tightly as she could and wound the thick mass into a bun that covered almost the entire back of her head. Small curls escaped, creating little springs all around her face and neck. With her too-pale skin and her jet black, wild hair, she looked exactly like what she was. A witch.
Deciding she’d never be convincing as anything else, Hazel put on the black dress she’d rented for tonight. Form-fitting from throat to mid thigh and trailing down the back, it was still short in the front. The sleeves were tight to the elbow, where they opened up and flowed loosely below her wrists. A diamond-shaped mesh opening revealed a little more cleavage than she was used to, but she thought she looked quite fetching.
She smiled. What would Drake Cole make of her now?
He was, quite possibly, the sexiest man she had ever seen. He’d filled her tiny apartment with his presence as well as his body. There was something almost menacing about him, yet she didn’t feel threatened by him. And he smelled…
He smelled, strangely enough, like vanilla. And pine.
She was drawn to him, to his presence.
To his body.
Oh. My. God!
She’d never seen a body like that before. Not on anyone real. Pictures, paintings… Michelangelo’s David might have come close. Only, impossible as it sounded, Drake was sexier.