Mating Fever Read Online Free Page B

it would
only worsen, make him insane with lust. He wondered if it was worth
the risk in tempting the beast. Could any woman be worth so
much?
     
    She stopped suddenly on the sidewalk. Gabriel
ducked into a doorway, waiting to see what she would do. He watched
her indecisive profile, as she crossed and uncrossed her arms,
kicked at a ball of trash on the pavement. Finally, she made up her
mind and moved forward and into a local bar that was more empty
that it was full.
     
    This end of the city was for serious
drinkers, not the tourists. She didn’t belong down here.
     
    But apparently, she wasn’t ready to give up
the night just yet.
     
    He grinned and trotted up the sidewalk. Just
his kind of girl. He liked a woman who didn’t know when to
quit.
     
    But she didn’t need to be out too late. He
couldn’t sense any danger, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t out
there. He wanted to make sure she got to her room okay.
     
    He chuckled, thinking of a few ways to wear
her out and entertain her if she was feeling restless.
     
    Gabriel waited a few minutes before
sauntering through the door. Inside was darker than out, almost
smoky-like. A live band took up a space on a far, center wall, and
most of the light and noise came from there and the dance floor.
Looking around the hazy space, he saw mostly locals mixed with a
few tourists, probably from the nearby hotels. Their scent gave
them away--they were missing that certain spice that only natives
had to them, not like his Jessica though. She was a force unto
herself.
     
    Gabriel sidled up to the bar, got a beer, and
turned around, propping his elbows on the bar as he scanned the
crowd for her. He spotted her at a table, nursing a drink and
giving a brush off to a man hitting on her. His ears prickled to
hear her soft rebuttal, barely audible, even to his own keen
ears.
     
    Doesn’t like to dance?
     
    A challenge, and she didn’t even realize it.
She was damn well in the wrong place not to be a dancer. Music was
a part of life here, dancing in the blood, necessary as air or
water to live. He was going to introduce her to one of the finer
points of Louisiana living.
    * * * *
     
    Jessica just wanted to watch. She liked
watching people dancing, drinking, talking ... flirting.
Interaction had always fascinated her for some reason, even after
she’d become disillusioned with society. She just liked the
atmosphere, especially down here. Of course, just because she liked
to watch didn’t mean she wanted to do it herself--especially not
with some slush who could barely stand and reeked of stale
beer.
     
    A chair scraped behind her. Jessica mentally
rolled her eyes and shuddered. She sensed more than saw someone
come up behind her elbow.
     
    Much as the guy deserved a hit to the
gut, she wasn’t going to get physical. Dammit ! She’d tried to be nice. Repeatedly. There
was just no way to be nice to people any more. Courtesy had
disappeared fifty years ago, along with manners. She hated being
mean--it always made her feel like a dog when she got
through.
     
    Jessica swiveled in her chair, her stomach
clenched with the rebuttal she was going to have to deliver.
     
    She stopped, stunned to look up and see
Gabriel Benoit standing before her.
     
    Her brain only took a few seconds to
jump-start this time. She was getting better at recovering. A few
more times seeing him and she might even act normal. Her eyes
narrowed with suspicion. Before she could demand to know what he
wanted, he surprised her by speaking first.
     
    “You followin’ me, cherie ? Dere’s laws against stalkin’, you know,”
he said with that husky, lilting tone that made her want to melt to
the floor in an orgasmic puddle.
     
    She recovered as the words sank in. Jessica
sputtered at his audacity. “Me? Are you serious? You’re the one
following me!”
     
    He shrugged. “Don’ matter. Law’s the law.
What you gonna do about it?” He looked down her blouse with a
mischievous gleam in his