Deja Voodoo (A Cajun Magic Novel) (Entangled Suspense) Read Online Free

heated skin of her dream man pressing against the back of her thighs. How long had it been since she’d slept with someone—well, besides one of her siblings in her crowded family home?
    Her man whimpered softly and the errant tongue traced the side of her neck.
    She scooted back to snuggle against him only to have him drape a heavy arm across her waist and lick her cheek.
    Ew! Some dream man. Who ever heard of a full throttle tongue-swipe across the cheek as being even remotely sexy? Maybe it was time to wake up from this dream and kick Mr. No-more-manners-than-a-dog out of her dream and out of her bed. Through the thick haze of slumber, she had an oh-duh moment.
    Sport.
    Sport had sneaked into her bed right as she’d fallen to sleep. He usually did that whenever they had a thunderstorm or if he sensed her loneliness.
    Eyes still closed, she raised her hand to her cheek. Yup. It was wet, all right. Double ew . Dog slobber . That’s when she opened her eyes to the gray light of dawn sneaking around the blinds shuttering her window.
    She rolled to her side and faced the culprit. Holy crap! Where her ninety-pound fraidy-cat of a dog should have been lay a full-sized man with a startling resemblance to a young Brendan Fraser. And he was naked from the top of his broad shoulders down past the limp—well, she tried not to look—to his toenails.
    A shocked moment passed before her sleep-fogged brain engaged, and then registered with a blinding flash of intruder alert, intruder alert!
    Screaming at the top of her lungs, she leaped out of the bed with her feet still tangled in the sheets. Instead of hitting the ground running for the door, she hit the hardwood floors face-first, cursing her brother for talking her into removing the carpets.
    Before she could disentangle her legs, a thump sounded on the other side of the four-poster bed.
    Oh crap, oh crap . He was coming after her!
    Frantic now, visions of being raped raced through her head as she was trapped by her Laura Ashley sheets. She peered beneath the bed, wishing she could see through the clutter of boxes to the other side.
    Then a whimper sounded from the floor between the bed and the outside wall. “Sport?” Where was her dog? “You better leave my dog alone, you son of a bitch!”
    With the determination of a mother wolf guarding her cub, she finally shed the constricting sheet, leaped to her feet, and grabbed for something to clobber the man threatening her dog. The only item she could find was her color-coordinated pillow that resembled a giant light-blue tootsie roll. As if she could beat a man to death with a pillow. Oh well, she only had to hold him off long enough to free Sport and make a run for the door.
    Another whimper sounded from the other side of the bed, spurring Alex into action. “I said , leave my dog alone.” She inched around the bedpost and braced herself for attack.
    Pushing up to his hands and knees was a man with light-cinnamon hair and soft brown eyes. And yes, she hadn’t been seeing things—he was completely naked.
    When she screamed, the man yelped and pressed his cheek to the floor, cowering like a whipped dog, with his hands covering his head.
    While he crouched, staring up at her with wide, nervous eyes, she committed his features to memory. A girl never knew when she’d have to identify a man in a police lineup. His hair was the same soft, reddish-brown color of Sport’s, and his eyes threatened to melt her when they rounded all scared-like. Sport had that same look when he was hiding in a closet because of a booming thunderstorm.
    Get a grip, woman. This is a naked man. In your house. And he had his arm around you, in your bed! “Holy Jesus! Get out, or I’ll call the police.”
    The man trembled all over but backed into the corner instead of fighting his way out.
    Great . Out of all the houses—okay, so there weren’t that many in Bayou Miste—why did this crazy man have to crawl naked into hers?
    Because you live