Killer Temptation by Marianne Willis

our brother for?" The tall one with the darker hair said. A shiver ran through her at his glare. Gosh, how he must hate her. Even his fangs grew over his lip, as though ready to growl and attack her like some wild dog. Brianna stepped back and slammed the door in their faces.
    Dammit. Damn Tristan. Damn the vampires and their underground netherworld. She returned to the edge of the bed and slumped with her arms folded. The tight line of her lips and the firm muscles in her jaw made her face ache. Her raging anger only fuelled the irremovable scowl.
    The silver tray atop the bed caught her attention. She lifted the lid. Mash potatoes and steak...or at least meat that looked like beef steak. God knew what they cooked down here. She wrinkled her nose, and put the lid back over the tray. The black jacket lay across the red silk sheets, its quality appearing new compared to its vintage style. Something shiny peeked out from the side pocket. Could that be…
    Reaching inside, she withdrew the small device. A mobile phone. Oh my gosh! She punched in Amber’s number and listened for a ring. A funny tune danced down the line and she frowned.
    Why won’t it work? Oh, crap. How could she forget? She was in France. She needed to use a country code before dialling. A quick glance over her shoulder confirmed a shut door with the distant sound of running water. Again she tried the number, this time using the correct digits.
    A brief silence, then an actual calling tone. “Come on, Amber. Pickup. Please, pickup.”
    “Hello,” a voice hesitated on the other line.
    “Amber! The spell didn’t work. Tristan is alive and he’s taken me. I’m in Désuet . France!”
    “Hello? Is anyone there?”
    “Amber? Can you hear me?” She rushed to different corners of the room, hoping to find a spot that better connected them. “I’m in Désuet . France. Tristan didn’t die!”
    A frustrated sigh sounded down the line. “If this is a prank caller, I’ll be pissed. I didn’t put up those missing posters of my cousin for punks like you to call and make fun of the situation! Now, start talking or I’ll hang up.”
    “Don’t hang up. It’s me. I’m in Des—”
    The phone was snatched from her hand. Brianna sucked in a breath and spun around.
    Tristan held the phone in the air, out of reach. His wide eyes strayed from it, narrowed and fell on her. A shiver rode through her at the dark, foreboding swirl of his irises.
    His grip on the phone tightened, knuckles turned stark white. The phone cracked in his fist. Plastic chunks slipped between his curled fingers and clattered to the floor.
    “What do you think you’re doing?”
    Unable to answer, her tight jaw almost slackened and fell open. A brown towel wrapped around his hips. Broad shoulders and a trim waist dotted with water droplets displayed his male beauty. She hadn’t regarded his lack of clothing when he took the phone, too engrossed by the harshness of his face, and the rage in his eyes. But, now she was conscious of every detail. She tilted her chin, determined to ignore the warm tingle between her thighs.
    “You bastard.” Her voice low and full of odium. Her only chance at freedom was now gone.
    He stalked toward her, and she retreated, stepping back until her legs hit the bed, forcing her to sit.
    “You will never try something like that again. Understand?”
    The familiar scent of him drifted beneath her nose, driving her fury higher, enveloping and overpowering. She stared at her clenched fists, vision blurred. Her thoughts chagrined.
    "You haven't eaten your meal?" he said from across the room. When had he moved? So overwhelmed with powerful emotions she failed to grasp what happened around her.
    "I'm not hungry," she said, tone clipped. She dared a glance at him.
    Damn my treacherous body . According to her cousin, tan was just another word for sexy. Gosh, was Amber wrong! Tristan’s pale skin made the Statue of David jealous. She wanted to run her hands up the