Sweetblood 02.5 - Enchanted by Blood by Laurie London Page A

with her, she’d have everything she needed. That is, if she could remember him.
    The past few nights with him had been amazing. After he’d first taken her blood, he’d done so every time they’d made love since. She loved the anticipation of his warm lips at her neck. The sharp sting followed by the endorphins flooding her system. She’d teased him that at this rate, she’d have to start taking iron supplements. But he only took a few sips each time before he withdrew and sealed the marks. She touched her neck now. A little tender, but it was the good kind of hurt.
    She didn’t want to think that soon this would all be over.
    Earlier, Vik had brought in her hairdresser and nail person and the two of them spent all afternoon getting ready. The estate had a small salon on the lower level, complete with shampoo bowls, massage chairs and several nail stations.
    Vik had said it was much more fun having a lady friend to get ready with. Hearing that had warmed Charlotte’s heart and made it hard to refuse. It was something her own grandmother would’ve said to her. Charlotte sensed that it had been a long time since Vik had had much female company.
    After her hair and nails were done, Charlotte had returned to their quarters to finish getting dressed. Expecting to slip into the cocktail dress she’d brought from home, she was stunned to find a new outfit laid out on the bed. She skimmed her hand over the sequined fabric that clung to her hips and twirled a circle in front of the full-length mirror.
    How in the world had he guessed her size correctly? The dress hugged her curves as if it were custom-made. It was simple in the front, with long sleeves that came down over the tops of her hands and a hemline kissing her toes, and the back had a beautiful drape to it. She had to admit, Trace had excellent taste in haute couture.
    The shoes were perfect, too, even though her feet were probably going to be killing her in about an hour. Four-inch heels, and they showed off her new pedicure, including the tiny crystals on her toes.
    She was so focused on not stepping on the hem of her dress as she exited the room that she didn’t notice Trace until she heard his low whistle. He’d been sitting on a wood bench in the hallway alcove and rose to greet her.
    Her heart forgot how to beat for a moment as her eyes drank him in. A nice-looking man in a tuxedo was always eye-catching, but Trace took it to a whole different level. The cut of the jacket emphasized his broad shoulders and didn’t hide how his muscular torso tapered down to lean hips.
    God, how she’d love to undress him right now. Inch by inch and button by button, she’d deconstruct him carefully in order to savor the experience.
    Trace definitely wore the suit. The suit didn’t wear him.
    As she approached him, she grazed her fingertips along the top of the occasional table to steady herself. His hair was just the right amount of messy, his skin smooth and freshly shaven. The sandalwood and pine scent of his aftershave was subtle yet distinct. Clean, pure, unadulterated male.
    His lips were slightly parted and she could just see the tip of his tongue. But those eyes of his were what really captured her attention. She wouldn’t have been able to look away from him if she’d tried.
    They were dark, intense, hungry.
    All because of her.
    And she loved it.
    He sauntered toward her like a lion approached his mate—powerful, in control and confident. If it struck his fancy right now to lift her skirts and make love to her, she had no doubt she’d comply willingly. Despite the guests starting to arrive two floors below them, one word from him would be all it would take. She’d slip her hand into his and lead him back to the bedroom.
    His gaze wandered lazily down to her toes, then back up again, as if he had all the time in the world. A knowing smiled curved his lips, making her skin tingle with delight. “Are you wearing them?” His voice was deeper than normal,