Elixir Read Online Free Page A

swagger, but more restrained. The crowd of people parted to let him through; it was obvious he owned this place in more ways than one. He walked right up to me, and I felt my heartbeat quicken as he got closer, so close I could smell him—the rich old-world scent of his cologne mixed with a darker and earthier masculine fragrance all his own.
    His eyes sparkled darkly and he gave a little bow.
    “I hope you will forgive me for being so rude,” he said, his voice deep and resonant. “I didn’t mean to stare at you like that. For a moment, I thought you were someone else. But I must have been mistaken. My apologies.”
    He had a hint of an accent, but I couldn’t place where it was from. Then I realized it wasn’t really an accent at all, just a more formal, deliberate way of speaking than I was used to.
    “I’m Mabily Jones,” I said, nervously extending my hand.
    “Welcome to my club, Mabily Jones.” His hand was warm as he shook mine, and he gave another little bow.
    “Thank you,” I replied, trying to sound breezy and confident, like Eva would have. But inside my heart was fluttering nervously. Who was this man? Right now he seemed so nice—the perfect host—but a moment ago I’d felt genuinely afraid of him.
    “So, what do you think of the party?” said Obadiah, making a sweeping gesture that seemed to encompass the whole room and everyone inside it.
    “I didn’t know anything like this existed,” I replied. “I feel like I stepped back in time, or into some other world.”
    He smiled at me enigmatically. “Perhaps a bit of both? But where are my manners? May I offer you a drink?”
    I demurred. I was, after all, on the job.
    “As you wish,” said Obadiah.
    There was a pause, and I wondered if now would be a good time to say the speech I’d been preparing, to ask him about Charlotte. There was a twinkling light in his eyes, a mischievous sort of gleam, and for a moment it distracted me completely from why I’d come here. The last song had ended and the room was quiet.
    Then all at once the musicians struck up again. But the music was very different now. The new song was a slow dance, the tune almost mournful, but with a sensuous rhythm. The dancers began to couple up and slowly sway, while the others took their seats and watched them enviously from the tables next to the floor.
    “Would you like to dance?” Obadiah asked, with another little bow.
    The question startled me. I couldn’t read the expression in his eyes. It was like he was still trying to figure me out. You and me both, I thought.
    I hesitated. I wanted to say yes, but I wasn’t the greatest dancer. Slow dancing wasn’t that hard—all you had to do was sort of rock back and forth—but it always left me in perpetual fear of stepping on my partner’s toes, which had happened on more than one occasion. This human body thing . . . it didn’t always work out for me. And yet—the thought of dancing with this man, to be that close to him, skin against skin, sent a little tingle through my spine. Don’t even go there, I told myself. You have a job to do. Maybe Eva was right—maybe it had been too long since I’d been with a man. I wasn’t even able to hold my concentration in the presence of one. But then again, I needed to talk to Obadiah about the case, and slow dancing was often a good way to talk . . .
    “I’d love to dance,” I said, flushing a bit.
    His black eyes sparkled. And before I could say anything more he took my hand and led me out onto the floor. All around us the dancers were swaying slowly with perfect grace. The nervousness rose in my stomach again. But then Obadiah clasped my hand in his and pressed the other against the small of my back.
    For a second I could hardly think. His fingers were warm against mine, and I could feel the heat of his other hand through the thin material of the back of my dress. I was so close to him now, I could feel the palpable maleness he exuded, the quiet confidence. With