Steamy Southern Nights Read Online Free Page B

and then he was reaching into the display case for the ruby necklace.
    She glimpsed the price tag as he hooked it around her neck, standing so close she felt dizzy. “Claude, don’t put it on. It’s too expensive. What if I break it?”
    “I’m more likely to break it. Besides, the markup’s ridiculous on what I got it for.” His fingers brushed her shoulders as he put the necklace around her neck. It felt cool and expensive against her skin, while his fingers felt hot and dangerous.
    “What do you think?” he said, turning her to face a mirror.
    “A light would help,” she said, seeing the shadowy reflection of the two of them. A glint of gold and a single flash of red was all she saw of the necklace.
    He shook his head, she saw the movement reflected. “We’ll have drunk tourists banging on the door thinking we’re open,” he said. “Trust me, the necklace is stunning. Come on. Let me show you around.”
    “In the dark?”
    “It’s atmospheric. Use your imagination.”
    She rolled her eyes but let him lead her by the hand into what was obviously a high-end antique store. The most gorgeous treasures were crammed together and every surface seemed crowded with delights. A Louis XIV chest glowed with gilt and atop it sat an ormolu clock with a graceful goddess spreading her gold skirts atop the clock’s face. Crystal and silver glowed quietly in the dim light; she saw the dark squares and rectangles of paintings on the walls and beneath her feet was the softness of expensive carpets.
    She realized their immediate destination when he removed a white tent card that read, Please Do Not Sit on the Furniture, from a pale velvet settee that she thought was blue. He pulled her onto the forbidden furniture and kissed her again.
    He was too good, too slick, too amazingly sexy. She wanted to devour him and it was obvious he felt the same. He kissed her, using his lips and tongue and his whole body, so she felt kissed everywhere. His hands were in her hair, on her shoulders, running down her arms and then brushing across the tips of her breasts, almost by accident but not quite. She felt the brush, and the incredible tingle, the movement of the gold and ruby necklace stirring against her skin, then he was gone.
    If he’d grabbed at her she might have found the strength to push his hand away but as it was he teased, feather light touches that only made her want more.
    She was pressed gently back onto the soft velvet and let herself fall. Oh, those practiced fingers could entice her skin they way his softly-accented words seduced her mind. The kiss became a full bodied affair and from the impressive erection nudging her belly, she knew he was as aroused as she. Their breathing grew harsh in the sleeping store. Outside people wandered and she’d hear snatches of loud conversation, a laugh, a curse, the wail of a single saxophone struck up somewhere nearby, but in here it was private, dark and intimate.
    Her sighs sounded loud, their breathing harsh. When his hand began to draw her skirt upward, she felt every inch of her thigh hum with pleasure.
    The antique furniture beneath them squeaked and it was like a wake up call to her sensible self.
    “Wait,” she said, grabbing his hand and pulling away, “What are we doing?”
    “What comes naturally, cousine,” he said, running a hand over her seriously mussed hair. “I’ve got an apartment upstairs. I could give you a night cap.”
    “I’ll bet you could,” she said, feeling a little wobbly. But shaking her head all the same. Her body might pout big time at being left wanting, but her moral standards demanded that she find out a little more about the man before sleeping with him. She needed to know that he wasn’t a criminal.
    “I need to think about this,” she said.
    “Don’t make the simple complicated, Lucy. This is the Big Easy.”
    “Yeah, but I’m not!”
    He chuckled. “Isn’t that an old-fashioned attitude?”
    “Probably, but it works for me.