was staring at me.”
“I never said it was.”
Luc sighed, but he fell silent.
She scribbled down notes as she walked through the shop, which turned out to be a good deal bigger than the average Manhattan storefront, or at least the average storefront in the East Village. There seemed to be plenty of room for attractive displays and for the half dozen other customers to avoid each other as they browsed. In fact, if it weren’t for the godawful pink everywhere, Corinne might have made it a point to come back, but she couldn’t think of a good reason to risk permanent vision impairment when she already had Blowfish bookmarked on her web browser.
She raised an amused eyebrow at the life-sized, blow-up boyfriend who stood propped up next to a colorful display of condoms, but her attention really caught on the far side of the shop and the table stacked high with edible goodies. She had a deep weakness for the combination of sex and chocolate.
But not chocolate pudding. She wasn’t a freak like some people.
The body paint got a cursory glance—she preferred to go with real chocolate syrup, since it tasted so much better—but she lingered for a moment on the raspberry bindi before her eyes widened and her hand shot out to snag a long, thin box with an intriguing cover illustration.
“Ooh,” she murmured to herself as her mouth slid into a grin, “chocolate tattoos!” She dropped her notebook on the table and flipped the box over to scan the information on the back, trying to block out the mental picture of stenciling her name in chocolate on some choice body parts of the Fae warrior who still trailed after her with his hands in his pockets and a scowl on his face. Maybe she could add a the word “Mine” across his ass in those gothic-looking chocolate capital letters…
“You know, at some point we’re going to have to stop fighting.” Corinne looked up from the chocolate. “Why is that?”
“Because eventually, we’re going to run out of things to fight about.” She snorted. “Sure we are.”
“That’s it.”
She heard the growl, but before she could so much as blink, the tattoo box was snatched out of her hand. Luc wrapped his hands around her waist, lifted her and plunked her ass down on the display table, bracing his arms on either side of her so she couldn’t get away.
“Now,” he snapped, leaning forward until his nose practically rubbed up against hers. “Do you mind telling me why you’re being such a brat?”
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Chapter Nine
Luc watched her look away and fought the urge to grab her chin and force her to look him in the eye.
She was driving him crazy. He felt like for every step he took forward with her, she pushed him two steps back. For Lady’s sake, she was his bloody heartmate. Would it kill her to try and be civil to him?
He’d noticed something was wrong before they got to the store, but he’d been hoping he’d just imagined it. Ever since they’d left her apartment, her mood had gotten progressively worse and she’d gradually stopped speaking so much as a polite word to him. He couldn’t figure it out, either. She’d seemed fine when they’d woken up tangled together in her bed, and normal while they had breakfast in her tiny kitchen. Well, sharp-tongued as usual, but normal for what he knew of Corinne D’Alessandro.
Nothing all that unusual had happened between her apartment and the Pink Pillow. He was at a total loss to explain why she’d suddenly turned from an adorable if sarcastic woman to a hostile army of one. He wanted to know what the hell was going on.
“Sorry,” she mumbled, sounding about as sincere as a mermaid apologizing for singing.
“No, you’re not,” he snapped. “And I want to know why.” She shrugged and remained mute, which just made him want to shake her. Lady! Who would have thought a human woman could be so damned hard to understand? He was
“I never said it was.”
Luc sighed, but he fell silent.
She scribbled down notes as she walked through the shop, which turned out to be a good deal bigger than the average Manhattan storefront, or at least the average storefront in the East Village. There seemed to be plenty of room for attractive displays and for the half dozen other customers to avoid each other as they browsed. In fact, if it weren’t for the godawful pink everywhere, Corinne might have made it a point to come back, but she couldn’t think of a good reason to risk permanent vision impairment when she already had Blowfish bookmarked on her web browser.
She raised an amused eyebrow at the life-sized, blow-up boyfriend who stood propped up next to a colorful display of condoms, but her attention really caught on the far side of the shop and the table stacked high with edible goodies. She had a deep weakness for the combination of sex and chocolate.
But not chocolate pudding. She wasn’t a freak like some people.
The body paint got a cursory glance—she preferred to go with real chocolate syrup, since it tasted so much better—but she lingered for a moment on the raspberry bindi before her eyes widened and her hand shot out to snag a long, thin box with an intriguing cover illustration.
“Ooh,” she murmured to herself as her mouth slid into a grin, “chocolate tattoos!” She dropped her notebook on the table and flipped the box over to scan the information on the back, trying to block out the mental picture of stenciling her name in chocolate on some choice body parts of the Fae warrior who still trailed after her with his hands in his pockets and a scowl on his face. Maybe she could add a the word “Mine” across his ass in those gothic-looking chocolate capital letters…
“You know, at some point we’re going to have to stop fighting.” Corinne looked up from the chocolate. “Why is that?”
“Because eventually, we’re going to run out of things to fight about.” She snorted. “Sure we are.”
“That’s it.”
She heard the growl, but before she could so much as blink, the tattoo box was snatched out of her hand. Luc wrapped his hands around her waist, lifted her and plunked her ass down on the display table, bracing his arms on either side of her so she couldn’t get away.
“Now,” he snapped, leaning forward until his nose practically rubbed up against hers. “Do you mind telling me why you’re being such a brat?”
Page 45
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
Chapter Nine
Luc watched her look away and fought the urge to grab her chin and force her to look him in the eye.
She was driving him crazy. He felt like for every step he took forward with her, she pushed him two steps back. For Lady’s sake, she was his bloody heartmate. Would it kill her to try and be civil to him?
He’d noticed something was wrong before they got to the store, but he’d been hoping he’d just imagined it. Ever since they’d left her apartment, her mood had gotten progressively worse and she’d gradually stopped speaking so much as a polite word to him. He couldn’t figure it out, either. She’d seemed fine when they’d woken up tangled together in her bed, and normal while they had breakfast in her tiny kitchen. Well, sharp-tongued as usual, but normal for what he knew of Corinne D’Alessandro.
Nothing all that unusual had happened between her apartment and the Pink Pillow. He was at a total loss to explain why she’d suddenly turned from an adorable if sarcastic woman to a hostile army of one. He wanted to know what the hell was going on.
“Sorry,” she mumbled, sounding about as sincere as a mermaid apologizing for singing.
“No, you’re not,” he snapped. “And I want to know why.” She shrugged and remained mute, which just made him want to shake her. Lady! Who would have thought a human woman could be so damned hard to understand? He was
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