Banshee Seduction (Montgomery's Sin Book 1)

by Diane Saxon

  “It’s The Dane!”

  He gave her his best smile while he dipped his hand into the bag of tepid fried chicken, pulled out a piece, and took a nibble, almost laughing as the blonde fluttered her eyelashes at him. “That’s me. And what’s your name?”

  He wasn’t positive, but a strange growling sound seemed to come from Ginny. Perhaps she was still hungry, but she didn’t seem to be making a move toward the food.

  “Pearl.”

  “Well, hi, Pearl.” He offered the bag across the counter. “Ginny, you better eat something. Your stomach is making noises, honey.” The quickly arched eyebrow made him wonder if he might have taken it too far calling her “honey,” but her saccharine smile assured him all was well as she dunked her hand into the bag and pulled out a couple of fries.

  Matt turned the bag in Pearl’s direction and wondered if he should withdraw it before she drooled over his food. Nothing worse. She shook her head as if she was trying to clear it. Her voice when it came was a breathless rush. “I’ve just eaten, thank you.” She sighed and fluttered her long fingers at the bag as though she couldn’t decide whether or not to accept his invitation anyway.

  He gave her a smile; her soft whimper reached his ears.

  He returned his attention to Ginny. “I thought we were going to have lunch.”

  She looked as though she couldn’t swallow the food she’d just put in her mouth, and the pink flush turned puce. He ran the tip of his tongue over his top lip and watched her attention divert to his mouth. He didn’t want to eat food, he wanted to eat her. Now. He flicked a glance at the tall, slender blonde and noted the intense attention she was paying them. No chance of him having a quick moment alone with Ginny.

  He lowered his voice. “What time do you finish work?”

  Ginny spluttered, her nostrils flared, and tiny bits of fry flew from her lips to land back in the bag he held extended. The desire to laugh stuck in his throat when she turned wide, manic eyes on him. Icy-white swirled through them while Pearl stared transfixed at the bag as though the chewed-up little pieces were going to come crawling out.

  Ginny ignored her. Her voice, when it came, was layered with multihued tones. “Six.”

  “Six, huh? I’ll pick you up. We’ll have dinner.”

  “No.” Her voice hit a soprano note of panic and echoed in his head.

  Careful, he rolled down the top of the paper bag, placed it on the counter, and leaned in. Pearl gasped as her knees gave way, and she collapsed into the operator’s chair to send it careering backward. Ginny flung her hand out, grabbed the back of the chair, and brought it to a dead stop without ever taking her cold gaze from him.

  Impressed, Matt raised his eyes to meet her wintry white ones. Hell, sometimes she could be scary. He wanted to stick his finger in his ear and waggle it just to make sure the tinnitus inside his head was caused by the last crazy smash-up he’d had on the field. But no, she seemed to be emitting a penetrating squeal even Pearl was reacting to.

  The woman narrowed her eyes and turned her puzzled face one way, then the other. “Do I hear the fire exit alarm?” Much to his amusement, she leaped up, squeezed her trim figure between the counter and the book truck, and tip-tapped toward the back of the library on her pin-thin stilettos. Evidently to check the fire-exit door.

  Matt dragged his gaze back to Ginny. Her mouth was drawn into a pretty pout, her eyes big and unsure; a deeper, doubt-filled hue gazed back at him and made his heart stutter. “What?”

  “Perhaps Pearl is more your type.” She shrugged, looked down at the pile of books stacked in front of her, and picked one up. She turned it over in her graceful hands and stroked the cover, making him crave the touch of those hands on him.

  She confused him with her brazenness quickly followed by sweet and angelic, but definite insecurities. He wasn’t going to let that stand in his way, though. She was his, and the quicker she understood, the faster he could get her into bed. He knew that wasn’t the entire game play, but if he could score, he’d have a lot more confidence.

  A deep possessive rumble vibrated through his chest, and his mouth watered as he stared at her. Yeah. Bed.

  The mere thought of what he could do once he got her there reminded him of the book he’d been about to abscond with. A wild grin stretched wide as he slipped it out of his jacket and placed it in front of her. “I’d like to check this out, please. I have a feeling I may need it.”

  She automatically stretched her hand out to pick it up and then hesitated. Her fingers hovered over the explicit cover and trembled for a brief moment as bright pink stained her cheeks. The woman was delicious.

  Matt took hold of her fingers and ducked his head to whisper, “Then again, perhaps you should keep it. You could highlight the parts you think I should practice.”

  Eyes bright with sparkling lights, Ginny’s shocked gaze met his and made him chuckle. He leaned right over the counter, encompassed her small face in his large hands, and laughed harder as she gave a rapid blink. She fluttered her eyelashes in an unconsciously delectable manner to zap his brain and fry his systems.

  His laughter dried up as he considered telling her she was his mate, but he stopped himself because she’d probably run screaming like a…a banshee.

  Determined to reassure her, he kissed the end of her nose. “And, Ginny… Pearl is definitely not my type. You are.”

  She smiled, and her cheeks scrunched up with the pressure of his hands on either side of her face, leaving deep brackets around the edges of her mouth and her lips puckered up like a kissing gourami. She was just the damned cutest thing he’d ever encountered.

  He dipped in and placed a tender kiss on her squished mouth, and then let her go and beat a hasty retreat. Confident she couldn’t refuse, he called over his shoulder. “I’ll pick you up here at six.”

  •●•

  “The Dane just asked you out and you don’t want to go? Are you crazy?”

  “Yes. And…and…no.”

  She wondered whether to shove Pearl’s elbow off the desk, knowing darned well the woman’s face would hit the counter as she was deprived of the use of her hand to support her chin. It wouldn’t be nice—after all she was Pearl’s boss—but Pearl simply was not fulfilling her role as junior librarian—or friend. Then again, knowing her luck, Ginny would probably be struck by a bolt of lightning for the deed.

  Raising her chin, she looked skyward. She might be struck simply for having the thought.

  “So are you going to meet him?” Pearl’s voice grated, drawing Ginny’s attention back to her.

  “No.”

  “Why not?” the younger woman screeched in her ear. She glanced at Pearl. She would definitely get on like a house on fire with the banshee bunch. She might well be able to out-scream them. Pearl continued to stare at her, black painted-on eyebrows lifting almost to her hairline in obvious frustration.

  Ginny felt obliged to justify her answer. “He’s just too much…too big, too powerful, too sexy.”

  “Oh. My. God!” She didn’t need to give Pearl a helpful shove; the woman face-planted the desk without assistance and bashed her head several times on the counter, leaving a pink mark to swell on her forehead.

  She turned watery eyes back to stare at Ginny. “Are you out of your freaking mind? Do you know how many women would give their souls for just one smile from that man?”

  Ginny gave a hasty look toward the ceiling. “She didn’t mean it. Not her soul.”

  “I did. I did. He is gorgeous and sexy and…gorgeous and sexy.”

  The woman poked her several times in the top of her arm with a long, sharp acrylic nail. She really shouldn’t do that. Voices wailed in Ginny’s head.

  “Dammit, someone has an iPod on loudspeaker in here with some god-awful music playing. Kids! I’ll see to them—you just stay there and have a long, hard think about this. This is the best offer you will get in your life.”

  Ginny didn’t need to think about it. The man scared her to death. Nothin
g to do with the size of him, but the all-powerful pervasiveness of his character. He dominated. He expected. And she was going to fall far short of his high expectations of wild, uninhibited sex and no strings attached. He might be able to walk confidently away at the end of a brief, torrid fling, but her heart was already involved.

  Pearl was wrong. It was not the best offer of her life because the man could devour her, break her heart, and crush her soul.

  •●•

  Exhausted, she closed the front door to her apartment and leaned against it. Her pulse pounded irregularly in the base of her throat from her desperate rush around the building. Several flights of stairs had contributed to the imminent heart attack. She’d flown home as though she were being pursued. Guilt swamped her as she glanced at her watch. She’d left twenty minutes early just to make sure she avoided him. She covered her face with her hands and ground her teeth with regret.

  It was impossible. The man was larger than life, both physically and in his demeanor. The sweet, gentle kiss he’d placed on her lips as he squished her face between his enormous hands had almost melted her heart. Not as much as the kiss in the reference aisle where he almost melted her panties. Now that had been hot.

  She drew in a deep breath and pushed away from the door, nearly jumping out of her skin at the loud hammering behind her.

  “Ginny?”

  Hand on her chest to stop the wild thrashing of her heart, she didn’t need to look through the peephole to know who it was. She’d recognize the boom of his voice anywhere. Too much. He was too much.

  She swung open the door to the sight of Matt, leaning against the frame, bristling with annoyance. His broad chest filled the doorway and made her realize just how ridiculous they would be together.

  Resolved, she put on a brave smile and met the boiling intensity of his sea-green eyes. This was one seriously pissed-off male. She lifted her hand to touch a loose lock of hair that had escaped her neat coiffure and smoothed it behind her ear, trying not to grit her teeth at the dead giveaway of her shaking fingers.

  “Hi.” She could do this. She could get rid of him. For her own peace of mind, it was the best way.

  He cleared his throat, his intense look bored into her, and guilt rolled around inside her stomach, making her a little queasy. “You could have just said no.”

  She raised her chin, already superior. “I do believe I did.”

  His brows dipped low, and he settled against the doorframe, making the old wood groan under his weight. He folded his arms across the wide expanse of his chest and made himself comfortable as though he was there for the duration. “I thought you’d changed your mind.”

  “No. I didn’t. You ignored me.”

  Silence reigned for a moment, and she thought about simply shutting the door in his face. She dropped her gaze to the floor and realized his huge feet were well over the doorjamb. Apart from anything, it was the coward’s way out. She raised her head and met his turbulent glower. “How did you get up here?”

  He chewed his bottom lip, grabbing her attention away from his dark frown and making a fool out of her if she thought she could turn him away.

  “I was just behind you—the door hadn’t clicked shut. You should be more careful; anyone could have got in.”

  “I’ll bear it in mind for the future.”

  He resettled himself. The wood creaked as he heaved a deep sigh, and her knees turned to water at the distraction of his muscles flexing beneath his white T-shirt. She started to raise her hand to tuck her hair behind her ear again and realized she’d already done that and it was going to look like she had a nervous affliction.

  “Why won’t you go out with me?”

  Her gaze shot back up to meet his.

  Why wouldn’t she? Her mind became a hazy mess. What was her reason? The thick sludge in her head slowed down her thought processes and allowed her to fall into the deep, appealing depths of his eyes and drown in them.

  She opened her mouth to reply, but nothing came out. Nothing at all. Even the banshees were silent as though they held their breath in anticipation of her answer. She closed her mouth again and shrugged.

  A deep ache filled her chest as he pushed upright, and with a regretful quirk of his lips, he lowered his head and turned to go.

  “Wait.”

  He stopped. His broad back filled her vision and made her yearn for something she couldn’t possibly have.

  “The last man I tried to make love with bled from every orifice I could see and possibly some I couldn’t.” She could still picture the poor man racing into his bathroom, blood pouring from his eyes and down his cheeks, dripping from his ears and nose as he screamed at her to get out. Get out of his apartment. Get out of his life.

  She watched Matt’s back expand as he filled his lungs with air, but he never moved, never turned.

  “I’m half banshee.” She heard the quiet puff of air as he expelled it, and still he kept his back to her. “This is the only building I know of where I’m safe from turning into a ball of fire.”

  He turned; his piercing jade gaze met hers. And he smiled, slow enough to wrench her heart, knowing she’d achieved her aim and he was about to walk away.

  “So…it’s dinner at your place?”

  Her breath caught in her throat, and she could only splutter as he shouldered his way in through her doorway and wandered into her apartment. “But…”

  He turned once more, put his hands on his hips, and gave her a direct stare. His body seemed to fill her entire apartment. “I had a strange feeling you must be part banshee, with your fireballs and faerie singing. It’s pretty obvious you’re not entirely from this world.” He shrugged. “Do you want me to leave?”

  “No.” She wasn’t sure if it was her own voice bursting from her lips, or several others she contained in her head, but it gained another smile from the delectable god.

  “Good. Then how about you relax? Go and get changed out of your work clothes, and I will trawl your fridge for something to eat.”

  “Okay.” Weak with relief, she found herself doing as he asked. She closed her bedroom door and sank into the soft depths of her bed to stare up at the ceiling. Happy voices giggled in her head, and she smiled. She hadn’t frightened him away. He couldn’t be human. He’d watched her burst into flames—several times—she knew he’d heard the screeching banshees, and he’d shrugged off her confession about the bleeding orifices as though it didn’t matter.

  She shot upright, slapping her hand over her mouth. Of course it mattered. She was taking longer to scare him than most guys because he wasn’t like most guys. He was a fullback. He was tough and probably thought he was exceptional. He was exceptional, but it didn’t make him invincible.

  She puffed out a breath as she stood and ripped off her jacket, flung it on a hanger, and shoved it into the closet. The heat of terror swamped her, making her lungs burn. She was a mess. This wasn’t good. She needed to get rid of him before she did something stupid and fell in love with the God of Football. Then she would make him bleed, and it would break her heart when he screamed for her to never come near him again.

  Heart beating like a jackhammer, she yanked at her hair tie and let her hair tumble down around her shoulders.

  Fingers shaking, she wrenched at her skirt zipper and squeaked in disbelief as it stuck a quarter of the way down. She tried to twirl the skirt around so she could see to untrap it, but it tugged on her fuchsia pink blouse. Her favorite silk blouse. Stuck firm.

  “Oh, no.”

  Slowly and carefully, she attempted to pull the zipper back up, but it was wedged fast. She couldn’t move it either way. If she wrenched it, she was going to end up with a hole in her blouse.

  Sweet heavenly bells, if she hadn’t been in such an all-fired rush, it would never have happened. Now she was going to ruin her blouse and very possibly break her zipper, damaging the skirt too. She blew out a breath and froze as she caught sight of herself in the mirror. She was a mess. What in the name of al
l that was holy was the man interested in her for? Her white hair looked like she’d just tumbled out of bed, her cheeks were a florid red, and her eyes a turbulent icy cobalt. She blinked, and they filled with tears.

  “Ginny?”

  “Oh, no,” she whispered at her reflection.

  “Are you okay? You’ve been in there a long time.”

  She closed her eyes to shut out the image in front of her. “Yes.” She choked out a reply, the hot wash of tears spilling over her cheeks as the door clicked open. She opened her eyes and looked at him through the mirror. His blurred features changed from puzzled to concerned in a blink, and without hesitation he stepped forward and opened his arms for her to turn into.

  “Ah, honey, don’t cry.”

  She gulped down a sob and snuggled her face into his T-shirt, absorbing the warm male scent of him as she wrapped her arms around his waist and flattened her hands against his broad back so she could feel the ripple of muscles as he pulled her in closer.

  The weight of his chin rested on top of her head as he curled his body around hers. She closed her eyes and took the comfort he offered. Her heart swelled at the small act of tenderness. The only sound was the deep, steady drumbeat of his heart.

  He pulled away, and she raised her face to meet his.

  “Why are you crying?” He skimmed a rough thumb across the top of her cheekbone and swiped away the tears.

  “I got my zipper stuck.”

  His brow furrowed and twitched. “Your zipper?”

  “Yes.” Her voice was weak and pitiful. He must think she was a lunatic—it was only a zipper, but it was so much more. “It’s my favorite blouse.”

  Deep in thought, he raised his hand and rubbed his fingers across his straight lips. “Let me see.”

  “No.”

  “Let me see!” With a firm grip on her shoulders, he spun her around.

  “I…”

  “Hold still.”

  The stroke of his long, cool fingers through her silk blouse made her catch her breath. The only reason she didn’t incinerate was because of her location. Any other place and he would have shot her up in flames by now, just with a simple touch.