Miss Austen's Vampire Read Online Free

wryly. “Months ago I had quite made up my mind to read only the novels of Mrs. Edgeworth, or those of my niece Anna, or those from my own pen. I find I can always amuse myself with Mr. Darcy and the Bennets. So naturally upon the publication of Sir Walter’s novel I was quite set on not reading it, simply by way of making a statement.” She took a quick sip of wine before continuing, her eyes again boring into his. “Of course I succumbed, and dash if it isn’t superb. Naturally. What else would one expect from Sir Walter? Drivel? But, it does not signify, does it? His gift only serves to enrich us all.”
    Releasing Gabriel from her glare, she turned back to her glass of wine and took a long, slow sip. He could see the corners of her mouth turned up in a smile. Was she teasing him?
    He didn’t have to wait long for her to clarify the issue.
    “Never mind me, the silly, jealous author. Indeed, I am a great admirer of Sir Walter, and only wish my gift were a fraction of his. I hope you did not think me serious. I am afraid my sarcasm sometimes gets the better of me, Mr. Augustine. I must learn to watch my tongue.”
    A flush covered the fascinating woman’s fair cheeks, an outcome of both the wine and the current topic of conversation he thought. Her hair was no longer what he would call mousy, but rather the soft brown was catching the light of the candles and warmed and illuminated her features, including the dancing hazel eyes. She was biting her lower lip absently as she moved her vegetables around on her plate. He couldn’t take his eyes away from that lower lip, and imagined himself kissing it.
    He shook himself out of this dangerous reverie. “Miss Austen, I appreciate your insight and feel moved to not only read your other novels, but also to find something by this Mrs. Edgeworth. Such a recommendation from you must not be ignored, I would think.”
    Jane turned her head to him, and seeing her jump ever so slightly, Gabriel knew she had not realized that he had leaned toward her, head just inches from hers, his dark eyes now lazily half-closed as he took in her face. She caught her breath, and he watched the lively eyes take in his own, then wander down the length of his nose until they rested upon his lips, lips that were half-cocked in what he knew was a seductive smile, despite his knowing it was wrong of him to do so.
    Releasing a soft sigh, she muttered, “Yes, yes, I think you should try Mrs. Edgeworth’s books.”
    He allowed their moment to last much longer than it should, but couldn’t bring himself to end it any sooner. The desire to kiss her full lips was overwhelming him, and unless he was reading her signals wrong, she was attracted to him as well.
    As if she had heard an alarm, she sat upright, avoiding his gaze. Without looking at him, she whispered in his direction, “Mr. Augustine, I was warned about your ways before I arrived this evening. Not only were the cautions as to your charms quite accurate, but also so were the ones about your handsome countenance. I am afraid I could be quite led along the garden path by your temptations, and know I should use care.”
    From the moment she had come up and boldly introduced herself, through her sardonic response to his question about Walter Scott, to now when she so openly confessed to an attraction to him, the woman had beguiled him. And beguiling was turning to arousing—a physical response he could not afford to have under the present circumstances.
    Gabriel shifted his weight so that he was leaning away from her, then picked up his wineglass and took several sips, before answering. “Yes, care should always be used by women when I am involved.” He knew this would only raise more questions in her mind, but he couldn’t say more, and to say anything less would be wrong. No harm could be allowed to come to such a charming and intelligent woman.
    That was it. That was what attracted him to her: she was unafraid to display her intelligence