Free Darkfire Kiss by Deborah Cooke Page A

that her body had been through the proverbial war. It had been years since a man had looked at her with anything but pity.
    Melissa crooked one finger in invitation and didn’t manage to complete the gesture before he was right in front of her. “Beautiful,” he whispered, that smile putting a lump in her throat; then his arms were around her again.
    One minute, they were kissing and she was running her hands over his strength; the next, she was on the couch, his hands locked around her waist and his kiss on the inside of her thigh. His hands slid over her hips, taking her underwear with them.
    Melissa saw those panties fly across the room, then closed her eyes and moaned at his caress. She could find underwear later. She wasn’t going to miss one second of this interlude worrying about such details.
    Then his tongue touched her hidden softness with gentle persuasion, and she parted her thighs, wanting only more. Melissa surrendered to the moment, to passion, and to the man with the amazing eyes.
    She almost dissolved beneath his touch, lost to more pleasure than she’d felt in years. Her body tingled in places that had slept for too long, places she’d forgotten she possessed.
    And it felt so good. In a trio of heartbeats, Melissa forgot everything except the seductive power of this man.
    A man with at least one dangerous secret.
    But he made it worth her while.
     
     
    Rafferty awakened with an effort. He wanted to sleep, to lose himself in the softness of this woman’s embrace, but he knew it would be foolish to do so.
    In fact, his lingering in her home only endangered her. Now that his desire had been partly satisfied, he was thinking with slightly more clarity.
    And he was alarmed by the risk he had taken. Would Magnus and Balthasar come after him? Rafferty expected at least Magnus would—the challenge between them still stood.
    But the woman’s perfume, now mingled with the distinctive scent of her own body and her pleasure, seemed to surround him, making it difficult to leave the warmth of her embrace. She had met him touch for touch, unafraid of either him or her own passion.
    She was a woman unlike any other he’d met.
    He knew so little about her, except that she had evidently stolen a book from Magnus.
    That recollection galvanized Rafferty. Magnus had no sense of humor about the loss of his property. He’d come after that book, and the only way to defend this woman from the Slayer ’s vengeance was to give the book back to Magnus.
    Even then, Magnus might demand retribution from her.
    Rafferty would finish his own blood feud with the Slayer instead. If that went well, maybe he’d bring back the book the woman wanted and find out then what it was about. For the moment, he had to ensure that Magnus had no reason to pursue her.
    Where had she put the book? The bookshelf at the far end of the room was loaded with volumes, but Rafferty suspected it wasn’t a published book. What did Magnus’s book look like?
    Rafferty checked the pockets of her coat and smiled at the weight in one pocket. It proved to be a book bound in blue leather, like a Day-Timer or a diary. He opened it at a random page and found a list of appointments. They meant nothing to him, and he didn’t recognize the handwriting—had he ever seen Magnus’s handwriting?—so he scanned the text to be sure he had the right book.
    Find Jorge ASAP was one note from several weeks before.
    Mention of the Slayer who had been Magnus’s most loyal henchman was all the confirmation Rafferty had time to seek. There was no time to linger. He could feel the eclipse beginning and shivered at the chill of the moon as it slid into shadow. The darkness of the night seemed to become deeper and more filled with threats.
    But eclipses had become increasingly more treacherous for the Pyr . It seemed that they were all more sensitive, or maybe that the dragons hidden within each of them were more stirred by an eclipse’s shadow.
    Rafferty would have to ask