Free Beneath a Blood Moon by R. J. Blain Page B

and the show alone, so he invited her along.”
    My wolf’s amusement overwhelmed my nervousness. Maybe our client—clients—had spent far too much on me, but she approved of them. They didn’t bark at us or bite. She couldn’t detect anything malicious about them. She could, however, smell arousal from the new male with the nice voice, which partnered well with his spiced, cinnamon scent.
    Once again, I flushed as her interest affected me.
    I wanted to know if he tasted as good as he smelled, so much like freshly baked cinnamon buns.
    “We’re going to have a long talk, Desmond,” Sanders muttered. I felt the car rock as he got in and heard the door close. “I’m so sorry, Miss. What were you thinking, Desmond? Isn’t a blindfold a bit much?”
    “If you don’t like it, take it off.” With a little help from my wolf, I became aware of the challenge in Desmond’s voice.
    “I’m so sorry about this, Miss,” Sanders stammered. I sat still, tensing in anticipation of being touched.
    He tugged at the blindfold, and moments later, it fell away. I cracked open an eye, relaxed, and blinked several times to adjust to the light.
    The amber-eyed man I had danced for sat beside me, staring at me.
    My wolf wanted to sink her teeth into him right then and there, not caring who else was in the car. I sucked in a breath as heat washed through me. It took several deep breaths to fight off her lust for the man. Swallowing, I thrust out my hand in greeting. “I’m Sara.”
    Instead of shaking with me as I expected, he kissed the back of my hand. “Sanders. Pleased to meet you.”
    I shivered at the softness of his lips on my skin. My wolf wanted to do a lot more than please him. She wanted him to please us, too. My cheeks burned from a mixture of my horrified embarrassment and her desire.
    Charles cleared his throat, started the car, and backed out of his spot. “We are going to Caesar’s Palace, Sanders. Miss Sara suggested the buffet there. I have, in my infinite wisdom and generosity, decided she’s your plus one for the evening, so do be a gentleman.”
    “I’m always a gentleman,” Sanders replied, straightening, his eyes shifting from me to the front seat. “I can’t believe you let him do this, Wendy.”
    “Let him? Oh, Sanders, Sanders, Sanders. It was my idea. He simply did what he was told, just like he should.”
    Sanders settled back in his seat, grabbed his seatbelt, and buckled in. Once again, our gazes met.
    Before my wolf had come to my rescue, saving me from being eaten by two werewolves, I hadn’t really wanted any of my partners. Some paid well, some were good looking and paid well, but not one of them had made me burn for him.
    His dark hair was tousled, as though he had spent a lot of time running his hands through it in frustration. The amber of his eyes blazed, and once again heat spread over my cheeks and down my neck.
    My interest and desire didn’t come entirely from my wolf; she didn’t care about hair color, nor did she care about the way his shirt clung to him, the top two buttons undone, begging for me to rip open the rest to find out if his entire chest was so nicely bronzed.
    I clasped my hands on my lap and despaired. Maybe I had slept with men for money in the past, but I wasn’t the love them and leave them kind. Whoring myself out left me empty in the morning, unsatisfied, and wanting something more.
    I wanted him, but when morning came, I wanted him to be mine.
    My wolf agreed.

Chapter Six

    It was a ten minute drive to Caesar’s Palace, and by the time Desmond pulled up to the valet, my wolf had calmed, but I was still trembling. My hunger returned in full force, stabbing my stomach in relentless demand.
    The valet opened the door. Desmond held his arm out for me and helped me out of the car. I took care not to trip on the long hem of the slitted gown, too tired to care how much leg I showed as I stood.
    My dress was a deep red, and my experience with clothing told me it