Free Holiday Bites: A Collection of Vampire Paranormal Romances by Michele Bardsley Page A

Julia’s father and others in the Senate, and with the help of other Praetorians, Marcus had been among those who assassinated Gaius Julius Caesar Augustus Germanicus. May the bastard rot in hell.
    But not even the death of the one who’d murdered his wife and children had brought them back.
    Lost in the dark memories, Marcus felt pain bloom in the region of his never-beating heart. He didn’t want to bury himself in old regrets and past mistakes. His life now was one of meaning and of pleasure.
    Gorgeous women populated the party and more than one had made it clear they would be happy to spend the evening in his company. Still, his gaze went to the staircase as he thought about Trixie Jameson.
    She was the one who stirred his blood. She was the one he wanted.
    And so, he would have her.
     
    TRIXIE FINISHED TOWEL-DRYING her hair and tossed the towel into the hamper. Wow. She felt so much better. Her opulent guest room included a private bathroom. The tub was huge and had jets , for heaven’s sake. She’d sat in the churning water until her skin crinkled.
    Now, she was tucked into her favorite terry cloth robe and she had no intention of getting out of it. Her room faced the backyard—if five acres could be called a backyard—which gave her a perfect view for the Halloween fireworks. She imagined there would be plenty of orange sparkles.
    All she really wanted to do was crawl into the luxurious bed with her Kindle and lose herself in one of the romance novels in her digital TBR. But she should probably turn on her laptop and try to write a few pages on her new novel.
    She looked at the laptop, sitting on the desk a few feet away from the bed. Then she looked at the Kindle sitting on the nightstand. Guilt warred with indulgence.
    Reading won.
    Feeling giddy, Trixie practically skipped toward the bed. A knock on her door stalled her progress. Crap. Had Val decided to make sure she attended the fireworks?
    Deciding to plead a headache, Trixie turned on her heel and hurried to the door. When she opened it, Val was not the one standing in the hallway.
    The man was tall, olive-skinned, with eyes like obsidian. He was not handsome so much as he was striking. His nose was crooked in the middle, his cheeks slanted, and his lips a little too full. A crescent scar curved from his right brow to just below his eye. His brown hair was cut short, but the silky strands begged to be touched. He was dressed in tailored Armani. His smile was almost feral.
    She held closed the gap at the top of her robe, realizing just how naked and vulnerable she was underneath the terry cloth. Still, she put on a brave front.  She looked him straight in the eyes and said, “May I help you?”
    “I hope so.”
    Her bravado appeared to amuse him. His voice had a hint of an accent … Italian, maybe? She stared at him, waiting for him to reveal why he’d knocked on her door.
    “You are quite beautiful.” He stepped close to the doorway and Trixie automatically moved back. She cursed her stupidity. She hated that he intimidated her. What did he want? Her heart turned over in her chest. Oh, hell. Surely he wouldn’t try anything with a houseful of guests downstairs.
    “Please go away,” she asked, her voice shaking.
    “You want me to stay.” That lovely voice echoed in her mind, wrapping around her thoughts like a gift. It was liquid desire. It was a promise made. A wish granted. “Invite me inside.”
    Trixie shook her head. What was wrong with her? She felt strange. Her gaze narrowed. Boldly, she reached out and pushed him. He was so startled, he stumbled backward and she slammed the door in his face.
    Mr. Sassy had picked the wrong girl to play weekend paramour. She wasn’t a slut. And she sure as hell wasn’t interested in sex games—no matter how handsome or intriguing the man might be. Honestly! The nerve of some people.
    He knocked again.
    She stared at the door, astonished. What kind of moron couldn’t take a hint? “Go