Free Mortal Bite (Golden Vampires of Tuscany) by Sharon Hamilton Page B

fondled the old tome.
    Pieces of that leather cover now lay on her table as she opened the book once
more and looked for the passage where the author visited the Shastra Temples.
    These temple ruins had pictographs of couples engaging in every kind of
sexual liaison possible, and several that were anatomically impossible. Cara’s
studies had turned up pictures like these for years. In fact, she had been
quite stunned that some of the earliest temples erected in this region—which
was renowned for its ancient vampire stories—were filled with such erotic
and practically pornographic reliefs and statues. It was almost like they were
built to honor sex. All kinds of sex.
    Locals had visited the temples to pray for fertility and long life.
Children were conceived here until the government passed decency laws that forbade
the sacred coupling that had gone on for generations. It was a portion of Queen
Victoria’s plan to clean up the heathens of India.
    Cara read his words.
    As I arrived at the first temple, I
was struck with the total lack of sound. All along the way I had heard monkeys
screaming and birds calling to one another, yet, when I took the stone steps to
stand beneath the twenty-foot statue of Jamal making love to his queen, there wasn’t a sound. Not even the chirping
insects that had serenaded me on my short hike. It was like the world held its
breath in reverence for these acred sculptures, entwined in each other,
pleasure filling the faces of the God and his bride.
    The relief was quite good,
depicting her sexual cave. Jamal’s member was fully embedded in her, but a
portion of his shaft was exposed and had been touched by countless pilgrims
over the years. The granite was as smooth as a woman’s breast.
    Cara closed the book at the end of the chapter. She discovered her
breathing had become labored. She fingered the spine with the gold letters, Temples of the Vampire, by Alasdair Fraser.
    She jumped as the phone rang.
    The caller ID showed it was a local number, but she didn’t recognize it.
She picked up the phone anyway. “Hello?”
    “Carabella?” The sultry Italian accent was unmistakable.
    “Paolo.” Her heart was racing. Would he be able to hear it?
    Stop this, Cara. You are reading
too much into his voice, the sound of his Italian accent and your need for
companionship.
    “I decided I’d take you up on your offer.”
    “My offer?”
    “Yes. To call you. Invite you to lunch. Isn’t that usually what happens
when a woman gives a man her telephone number?”
    He was right, of course, but she hadn’t thought it out that far.
    As she dithered, she tapped her fingers on the book, and then picked it
up, startled to see a yellowed letter fall out. She was having a hard time reading
the flowing script. The red wax seal had been broken, indicating the letter had
been previously read.
    “Cara, are you still there?” he asked.
    She put the letter back inside the book and set it down again, pushing it
away.
    “Sorry. I just ordered this old book and had been reading some passages.
I apologize.”
    “I could call at another time,” he offered.
    “No. No, this is fine. Again, I apologize.”
    “No apology needed, but you can make it up to me by agreeing to have
lunch with me tomorrow. Are you free?”
    Am I free? Am I able to say no?
    “I have class that lets out at noon. I could meet you somewhere near the
college. I have office hours in the afternoon, two until five.”
    “Then I shall have you between noon and two?”
    She chuckled. “Yes, I supposed you will.”
    “Excellent. Shall I meet you at your classroom, then?”
    “No.” Her radar clicked on. Status: elevated. She didn’t want him to know
where her office was. Yet. “Meet me at the Chowder Grill on Harrison, okay?
That’s one of my favorites for lunch.”
    “The Chowder Grill it shall be. Looking forward to it. Good-bye.” He hung
up.

Chapter 10

 
    “Sidney. Good to hear from you at last. You found the book?” Dag