Banshee Seduction (Montgomery's Sin Book 1)

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Banshee Seduction (Montgomery's Sin Book 1) Page 7

by Diane Saxon


  He splashed a little on—not too much. He had the distinct feeling she wouldn’t be impressed if he appeared to have made too much of an effort. Not that he knew whether she was going to be there or not, but how else was she supposed to find him again? She was hardly the type to come waltzing up to his front door. No, he just had a feeling. A gut feeling that slid right down to his belly and gave him a desperate, hungry hope.

  He strolled through to his bedroom, glanced at his faded jeans laid across the bed—the ones the designers had kindly ripped holes in for him. Nah. Something without rips. He turned to his closet, pressed the remote control, and allowed the shelf units to turn on their carousel, stopping it when it came to the third unit of jeans. Unripped. His gaze wandered from top to bottom, starting at faded to almost white through to deep royal blue. Yeah. Dark blue. He took a pair out, tucked them under his arm, and pressed another button on his remote control.

  Rows of hangers floated past until his neat white shirts appeared. First row—evening shirts, stiff collars. Second row, collarless. Third—meeting shirts, formal button-up. Fourth—yeah, the fourth, soft linen shirts, casual collars, sleeves turned over twice and stitched so they gave the impression of informal but cost the earth. He slipped one off its hanger and draped it over his finger. He turned to contemplate the rows of drawers.

  Underwear, or no underwear? Several ways to look at the situation. If he got lucky and it was a quickie, no underwear was ideal. If he got lucky and interrupted, he’d snag himself on his jeans if he had no underwear—ouch. His eyes almost watered at the thought. If he got lucky with Ginny and it took all night, she was going to think he was too presumptuous if he whipped his jeans off and—hey, commando!—and his luck might run out there and then. He really wanted to get lucky with Ginny, and it was going to last a hell of a lot longer than all night too. He was in it for the long haul. The rest of his natural life would do it for him. She was his mate. He just hadn’t quite gotten the knack of romancing a reluctant woman yet.

  His chest ached. So far, he’d been pretty useless in the schmoozing game. The fire in the pit of his stomach told him he needed to get a move on.

  He stabbed his finger on the remote control, and the second drawer slid open. White, plain white. He pressed the buttons, the drawer slid closed, and the top drawer opened—silk boxers. Nope. He needed plain white cotton, definitely. He couldn’t stand the feel of silk slipping into the crack of his ass because his jeans were too tight. They were fine beneath pants, but jeans, no.

  He stroked his hand over his clean-shaven face. He was starting to think like a girl. What the hell did it matter? Except if he got Ginny naked, he wanted her to stay that way, and he suspected she was more discerning than the women he’d known in his past. Besides, he didn’t want to put marks on her tender skin.

  He stared at himself in the mirror. Freshly shaven, smartly dressed. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d consciously made an effort, and realized it was exactly what Emma had been talking about. And the penny dropped. She’d been right, it wasn’t her—it was him. He’d been completely disinterested in the woman and had made no effort whatsoever. She’d seen it, felt it, known it. Long before he had. He thought she’d dumped him, as did the rest of the world, when in fact, he’d moved her on well before she made the decision to leave. Not a stupid witch by any means. Just an evil one.

  He clicked his front door shut behind him, stepped up to the waiting car, and slipped in through the open door onto the wide, leather passenger seat. He slanted a glance at Daniel’s sullen face. “Stop sulking.”

  “I’m not.”

  Matt chuckled, settled himself back in the seat, and crossed his arms over his chest. “Is it because of the gorgeous vamp? What was her name?”

  “Roni—and no, it’s not because of her.”

  “You remembered her name.”

  “The whole world knows her name, f-f-fuckwit.”

  “Except me, apparently…and your language is deteriorating. You stutter when you use the f-bomb, but you are definitely using it more frequently.” Amused instead of insulted by his friend’s obvious bad mood, Matt cast another glance over him. Role reversal. Today it was Daniel’s turn to dress like a down-and-out. Grubby cream T-shirt with a partially rubbed-out slogan Matt thought said, RUN IF YOU SEE ME SMILE—THERE MUST BE SOMETHING WRONG!

  “So, what happened with the model? Did she give you the brush-off?”

  “She did not. I wasn’t interested.”

  Matt squinted at his longtime friend and knew the statement for the lie it was. “You seemed interested. In fact you seemed intent on making her acquaintance.”

  “Hmmm.”

  It was like pulling teeth. Where Daniel was normally much chattier, he seemed to have clammed up. Changing the subject might help. “What about the electric shock you gave my girl?”

  “She’s not your girl yet.”

  “How do you know?”

  Daniel turned his wintry gold gaze from the road to Matt. “I know. If you’d got laid, you wouldn’t be so antsy, and you certainly wouldn’t be out cruising for the babe with the big—” At Matt’s raised eyebrows, Daniel smiled. “—blue eyes, because you would be in her bed right now, and I would not be having to put up with your truculent shit.”

  Uncomfortable with the turn of conversation, Matt turned away to stare out the side window. He heaved a sigh at the spectacle of the crowds blocking the doorway to Montgomery’s Sin. Shit, Daniel was right. If he’d gotten laid, Ginny would be in his bed, and there’d be no need for this parade. All of them human, most of them female. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, and he had to blink quickly to rid himself of his third eyelid, which had inadvertently closed. He really needed to be more careful. It seemed to happen more lately when he lost his concentration. He scanned the crowd.

  It wasn’t just about getting laid. It was about locating his mate. The strong pull after two hundred years of waiting stretched his patience.

  It was the tall red-haired model who drew his attention first. At Daniel’s disgusted groan, he knew he’d spotted her too. Hardly difficult. Probably the tallest person there, she wore a sleek, crimson leather dress that reached just below the cheeks of her ass and had evidently been stitched together once she’d slithered it on. It was the only explanation. There was no way, not even with her slender figure, she’d been able to squirm into it without aid.

  She stood in the darkened shadows. A sexy woman, she still didn’t have what it took to turn his head like the cutie pie, his mate, who stepped out from behind her and stopped his breath in his throat.

  Ice-blue silk draped from the three tiny straps at each of her shoulders to shimmer over her opulent breasts and waterfall straight to her slim ankles. A showcase to the stunning six-inch silver heels that looked as though someone had scraped the scales off a dragon’s skin and laid them in an intricate pattern over each other. They glowed in the fading light of the pink and golden sunset. Delighted, he thought he might just let her keep them on when he stripped her of everything else.

  The sound of Daniel’s voice reached through the rush of blood swarming from his brain.

  “What the f— Matt, you can’t jump out!”

  But he’d already opened the door and stepped out of the moving car before he’d given it another thought. She drew him like no other.

  By rights, his feet should have been on fire, the speed at which the car had been going, but he barely felt the warmth seep through his Italian leather-soled boots.

  Eyes focused on only one woman, he made a bee-line straight for her, grasped her hand, and drew her out of the line of minor celebrities waiting to enter the club. Careful not to appear too overbearing, he raised her hand and smoothed his lips over the back of her fine skin, satisfying himself with the mere touch of her.

  Caught by surprise, her eyes widened. Pure white flashed through them like little bolts of lightning and thrilled him beyond words. Hopeful, he smoothed his thumb across her palm and tugged
her in closer. “You want to go in, or…?”

  The quick jerk of her hand surprised him. “Please don’t ask me again if I want to hit the sheets.”

  Her voice was a quiet whisper so he almost didn’t hear, but he felt the insult roll off her. Not so with her vampire friend who had ears like a bat. Aghast, she elbowed her way closer. “He said what? When? You’ve only met him twice.”

  He gave a regretful smile and a small shrug of his shoulders. Ignoring her friend, he leaned down and spoke close to Ginny’s ear, letting her sweet aroma wash over him. “Dinner. I was going to offer you dinner.”

  He flashed a quick glance at Roni, and she gave a broad smile of approval, stepped back into line, and flicked her hand at him like she was giving him permission to continue.

  “No.” Ginny tried to withdraw her hand—no way was he letting her go. He grasped her fingers tighter, drew them up to his mouth, and touched his lips to them again. As the move worked, he felt the tenseness in her fingers melt, and when he smiled into her eyes, her lashes gave a shy flutter. He wasn’t mistaken. She was as interested in him as he was in her.

  “I’ve already eaten.”

  His stomach rumbled. He could eat again. He could always eat. Right now he could seriously eat her, just lap her up. “Perhaps a drink, somewhere quiet.”

  She flashed a look in Roni’s direction and turned back with a regretful smile. “I can’t leave Roni on her own; she came here for me.”

  He glanced along the row of humans. “She’ll be safe.”

  “It’s not about safety. She’s my friend.”

  He drew himself up to his full height and stared down at the tiny woman whose wide eyes gazed up at him. He couldn’t criticize her for her loyalty, but all he wanted to do was get her alone, and preferably naked. It obviously wasn’t going to happen—yet. He really needed to get a handle on this whole romancing business. He obviously hadn’t a clue. There must be steps to follow. Perhaps he needed to drop in at the local library and borrow a book on the subject.

  “What are we doing?”

  Matt turned at the sound of Daniel’s brooding voice and caught the narrow-eyed stare his friend directed at Roni, who seemed preoccupied studying her perfectly manicured nails.

  “We’re going in for a while.”

  “Okay.”

  Matt had never seen the man so surly. Daniel hunched his shoulders, shoved his hands in his front pockets, and strode past the waiting line to mumble at the bouncers. He turned and signaled for Matt, Ginny, and Roni to come forward, and then sauntered into the darkness of the club, heading straight for the bar and leaving them to their own devices.

  Ginny grabbed Roni’s hand and hauled her forward, her short legs almost running as she teetered along next to her tall friend, whose long-legged smooth stride gave her the appearance of gliding above the ground.

  Matt lifted one eyebrow as he followed them and dipped his gaze to the floor. It was very possible the vampire was gliding. He tilted his head to one side and allowed himself a smile. Yep, moonwalking. The babe must save a fortune on the lack of wear and tear on her shoes. It gave her an extra half inch of height too.

  Personally, he preferred to watch the slightly manic jiggle of the curvy lady at her side, whose feet were very definitely smacking the floor. The way her butt moved like two kittens fighting in a silk bag made his mouth water, and he longed to glide his hands over those smooth globes and feel them writhe against his skin. With or without the silky material in between their flesh. Preferably without—and soon. His brain emptied of all thought except getting her alone so they could start their mating ritual. His eyes were willing slaves to his brain.

  He stepped into the darkness; the invitation of flashing lights drew them deeper into the club, but he hesitated. He just needed a moment to breathe, to get his rising passion under control. If he could keep to the shadows, just until he could… No. Ginny turned, and under cover of darkness, slipped her hand into his. The satin touch of her fingers in his rocked his heart. He pulled her to a stop, turned her to face him, and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. He couldn’t risk more than one small kiss, or he’d be tempted to whisk her out of Montgomery’s Sin and into his own house of sin. He skimmed his finger to define the soft curve of her cheek and felt the soft flutter of her breath against his skin. Determined to remain focused, he marched her through the crowds deeper into the club.

  Daniel leaned on the bar, back to the room, like he didn’t want to speak to anyone. Roni slinked over to join a group of skinny women along the opposite side of the square bar, who encompassed her like she was their long lost friend.

  Just wanting to be closer to Ginny, Matt tugged her onto the dance floor and into his arms so he could absorb her scent and calm his raging beast.

  Who was he fooling? The moment his arms were about her, his flesh heated up, his blood began to race, and some wild wind gathered momentum in his head until his brain whirled with only one thought. Ginny.

  She raised her head, her sweet face upturned with a tremulous smile on her perfect lips. Tempted, he pressed his mouth against hers, snuggled her curvy body into his, and guided her hips in a sexy gyration to give him a thrill, and…poof!

  Shit. He stood in the middle of the dance floor looking for all the world like he was dancing on his own. Loser. Like a shot, he moved his arms down to his sides and edged his way through the crowds. If anyone had seen the sweet thing turn into an inferno, no one gave any indication in the flashing lights of the dance floor, but she’d singed his chest hairs, not to mention set his heart on fire. Not visible from the outside, it pulsed in response to her scent, which lay heavy on the air and slid across his senses.

  A bright flash of light grabbed his attention, and Matt stared across the room, narrowed his eyes, and used his multifaceted vision to pin down the source of light, unsure why Ginny would have appeared in that area of the club when every indication from the other night pointed to her turning up inside the ladies’ room.

  The light flashed again and lit the area briefly.

  A photographer. A little man with thick-rimmed glasses. Matt turned his head in the direction the guy faced and centered on Roni. Yeah. It would make sense. She was a world-famous model. Of course he would be photographing her, but… Ginny stepped out from behind Roni, and the camera flashed again.

  Puzzled, Matt made a move, and then watched as the guy turned, tossed a frightened look over his shoulder, and ran from the club. The guy was fast. He’d skittered away like some kind of weasel. Matt frowned and scanned the room. He scrutinized every aspect, every shadow, every light source, looking for a reason the guy had run, because he certainly hadn’t spotted Matt.

  His gaze met Daniel’s over the dancers’ heads. Daniel shrugged, turned back to the bar, and poured himself another…whiskey? Daniel was drinking whiskey? Matt made a move toward the bar, but the fresh smell of lemons and brimstone assailed his senses, and he turned to see Ginny making her way toward him through the writhing, lively clubbers. Every other thought left his head. He couldn’t contain the wide grin as she fluttered and flustered toward him, her slight figure getting bustled by the dancers, her pretty skin a deep rosy color. Her gaze met his, desperation tingeing her eyes, and he pushed his way forward. The crowd parted like the Red Sea.

  He held his hand out. She raised hers in warning. “Don’t touch me.”

  “What?”

  “Don’t touch me. I ruined my nail polish.”

  Truly confused, he tried to understand what she meant. She looked like it was the end of the world.

  “My nail polish…” He leaned down so her lips whispered across his ear; her soft breath stirred him. “You made me incinerate my nail polish.” She held her delicate hands out, palms down, and his mind emptied of every thought except the image of those clever little hands on his body, her neat fingernails scraping his flesh. He swallowed past the painful lump in his throat, tracked his gaze up to her wide-eyed stare, lust racing through him. He wet his dry lip
s with his tongue, her gaze dropped to his mouth, her lips parted, and—poof!

  Goddammit!

  Couldn’t the woman stay still for just one moment?

  He strode toward the bathroom, determination in every fiber of his being. He was going to take her out of there, find a nice quiet spot where…

  “I’m going to take her home.” Roni’s New York twang halted him mid-stride.

  “No.”

  “I’m afraid so; she’s worn out. It’s getting worse. You only need to look at her, and well, you know…fireball! You must have something really hot going on.”

  She swept her gaze over him as if she found it hard to believe and quirked an eyebrow as her gaze slid over his scorched white shirt.

  “Well, we might have, given the chance, but…”

  Roni placed her long talons on his arm and gave a firm squeeze; her red nails dipped into his white sleeve like droplets of blood, as she tried to communicate the seriousness of the matter. “We’ll find a way.”

  He gave a reluctant nod and turned to the bar to join Daniel.

  How the hell was he supposed to get near Ginny? She was his mate, but there’d be no sex unless they found a resolution. No sex meant no bonding, which in turn meant she was still free to choose another mate, while he only had one chance.

  To hell with that. She was his. He’d waited two hundred years for her, and there was no way he was about to let the opportunity bypass him. He rubbed his fingers over his lips and squinted into the blue neon lights of Montgomery’s Sin. He may have met her there, but there was somewhere else far more conducive to seducing the banshee.

  Chapter Four

  Her chest ached, really ached. Almost a week since she’d seen him, and it was pretty obvious she’d scared him away—or bored him to tears with her trivial magic act. Worse still, she wondered if she’d burned a hole in his chest with her last flash. As well as exhausting her, it must have caused him some damage. No bleeding orifices, but she’d probably set his chest on fire.

 

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