Free Christmas Spirit Seduction by Eve Langlais Page A

to better listen when a single flame popped up from a candle I kept on my dresser.
    I blinked at the sudden brightness and wrinkled my nose as the stench of wick and dust came to me. As part of my emergency candle collection, one for every room in case of power outages, the candle in my room had never found itself used and, as such, didn’t burn or smell as pleasantly as it should have. But with it lit, I discovered one important thing, other than the fact it needed replacing.
    I was not alone.
    Ha, Mother! And to think you said I’d never spend Christmas with anyone because I am such a picky bitch. Of course, when I later recounted this story, maybe I’d leave out the part where I shared this holiday moment with a possible rapist and murderer. Then again, maybe I’d find myself lucky and my invader would prove to be only a cat burglar with a strange fetish for bound and naked women.
    A part of me wondered that I didn’t scream and thrash. Panic like every damsel ever portrayed in a horror flick. Not happening because that smacked too much of cowardice. But that wasn’t the only reason. If there was one thing I knew as an officer of the courts, predators loved the smell of fear. Reveled in it even.
    I wasn’t about to reward the bastard who’d trussed me. No matter how frightening the situation, I wouldn’t let despair turn me into a whimpering and whining victim.
    Or so I hoped.
    “Who’s there?” I asked, my voice wavering despite my inner confidence.
    No one answered, but a chill breeze floated over my body, pebbling my nipples in its wake.
    “Great. Whoever it is left a door open and is wasting all the heat,” I grumbled. Look at me being practical even amidst a crisis.
    Again, I tugged again at my restraints, annoyed that the inconsiderate prowler would not only rob me but cause my gas bill to skyrocket. Energy companies. You had to hand the award to them as the biggest legal thieves of all.
    Another rush of cold air swept through the room, and it was then I noticed something freaky. The candle flame didn’t waver one bit. That made no sense, but then again, neither did the cloaked figure floating above me.

Chapter Two
    The impossibly suspended figure did what my current situation couldn’t.
    Fear clutched me, and I screamed like a bloody girl, a shrill, piercing sound that hurt even my ears.
    “Would you mind not doing that?” The silky masculine voice came from my left, not above me, and I whipped my head sideways to see another robed figure at my bedside.
    I’ll admit. The sight of a second dude, even one who didn’t float, made he squeak.
    “Who are you? What are you doing here? And I will bloody well scream if I please, dammit!” My terror coalesced into anger, a burning emotion more familiar—and welcome—to me.
    The person at my bedside, his features buried within the cowl of his robe, cocked his head. “When I said don’t do that, I wasn’t talking to you but my friend hovering above you. He always has to be a bit of a show-off. Go ahead and scream if you want, although try and not make yourself hoarse because we’d really like to hear your cries once we truly begin.”
    Begin?
    I gulped. “What— I—” Another first. Words escaped me.
    “Speechless already? And yet we haven’t even started.” The weird dude, who had to be a guy with that low voice, stole any rebuttal with his threatening statement.
    Deciding not to dwell on how he and his accomplice intended to make me shriek, I turned my attention back to the floater above me, only to see the ceiling free of freaky, levitating guys. Not exactly a relief because I was still tied to my bed with two guys—who apparently planned to make me scream—in my bedroom.
    Wait, make that three guys, and they all stood at the foot of my bed, a trio of Grim Reapers in their long robes with the hoods pulled down low on their faces so only their chins appeared. Nice chins too. Square, clean-shaven, much more attractive than any serial