A Werewolf to Call Her Own (Mystic Isle, Book 2) Read Online Free

damn.
     
     

Chapter Three
     
    Ceara turned in his arms and placed her hands against the rock-hard wall of his chest. He was easily the most handsome man she’d ever seen. Up close, with his heat radiating around her like a thick fur coat… it only added to his appeal. And made him impossible to resist.
    She felt an attraction so strong she couldn’t figure out what to do next. All she knew was that she had to keep touching him. Needed to soak up his affections for as long as he’d let her. How had she become addicted to him in such a short period of time?
    But she was. She couldn’t deny it. All the symptoms were there. The thought of walking across the rooftop without him, much less back to her cottage or even back to France, sent icy shards of resignation through her.
    Somehow the darkness made her brave. Or maybe it was him. His quiet, steady assurance. He knew what he wanted. She could see that determination in his eyes. If only she knew what it was that he wanted.
    Dropping her gaze, she glanced out over the water. “Thank you for bringing me up here.” The school of dolphins had been incredible, the fireworks, a memory she’d never forget.
    But mostly, it was his presence that made the last hour so special. She didn’t need the fireworks to feel a quake deep to her bones. His touch had done that. The rich timbre of his voice. His delicious accent.
    “My pleasure.”
    He sounded genuine, like he’d truly enjoyed himself. But Ceara wasn’t a prize. Not like Valencia. She was pretty enough, but V told her often enough that she didn’t play up her assets. If she were to follow V’s instructions, could she hope to win a man like this? A man who rescued damsels and made them feel special.
    In that moment, soaking up the shelter of his arms, she realized that he was the man she’d dreamed of her whole life. The knight in shining armor, brave enough to go to war for her. She knew it because she’d managed to go for a whole half hour with a quiet mind. There were no whispers from the grave. No warnings from her dead parents.
    This man, whoever he was, was strong enough to protect her. To shelter her.
    She hadn’t missed the way he’d stared down every man on the deck tonight.
    His presence soothed her, stopped her fidgeting. What would happen when they parted ways? She didn’t want to think of that right now. Now she just wanted to soak up his presence. His confidence. Dream of a full life where she took risks and…
    “The night doesn’t have to be over just yet.”
    Heart thundering, she turned in his arms. Was he suggesting—
    “Calm down, little vamp. As much as I’d love to rip your poor excuse for an outfit from that delicious body you’re hiding underneath and ravish you, I realize you’re not ready for that yet.”
    His words made her body flush with heat. A delicious, physiological heat she’d never, in her twenty-one years, felt before. For a moment she wondered if she was melting.
    Ravish… really? She—he—
    His hands skimmed up her back and he cupped her cheeks.
    “I need to kiss you,” he admitted, his beautiful brown eyes locked on her lips. His pupils flared until the warm brown all but disappeared. “I’ve been dying to since the moment you first looked at me, your lips trembling ever so slightly. I wanted to smooth away that fear and beat that demon over the head for scaring you.”
    Ceara stared at him, mute. He said the best things. Then, feeling soft and pliant, she nodded and closed her eyes.
    “Have you ever been kissed before, my beautiful little vamp?”
    She shook her head, seeing no reason to lie. “But it’s on my list,” she whispered. He would probably recognize how inexperienced she was the moment his lips met hers.
    But what she lacked in experience, she made up for in education. Her parents had kept her locked away from the world but they hadn’t locked away the world from her. She’d devoured their massive library by the time she’d been twelve. And