Free Irresistible Nemesis by Annalynne Russo

Blagovich. Oh, and the next time your friend needs a date, tell him to steer clear of trailer parks. They produce the foulest trash you can imagine.” Without another word, the vampire bitch turned and walked away. She stopped a few feet away and snatched a champagne flute off a serving tray. After she chugged half the glass, she peered over her shoulder and threatened the huntress with a flash of her deadly incisors. Eva tsked and shook her head. Natasha Blogovich wouldn’t intimidate her. Once she repeated the woman’s name in her head, it hit her. Natasha Blagovich was Andreas’s right hand man, or in this case, woman. She remembered seeing her face in the photograph from the Interpol file she handed over to Oliver that morning. However, instead of the waist-length fiery coif portrayed in that outdated photograph, Natasha’s hair hung in a shoulder-length bob.
    It wasn’t the photograph that jogged Eva’s memory. On the contrary, a vision appeared in her head. One of two blondes and a red-head lounging on a luxurious sofa, draped over Andreas like a trio of cheap suits. Suddenly, Eva had the urge to claw the bitch’s eyes out.
    Where’d that idea come from? Could it be that Eva was a tad bit jealous of Andreas’s relationship with his head of security? Not possible. The man was an ass. Plain and simple.
    Speak of the devil. No sooner had his arrogant-as-all-hell image popped into her head, did Eva spot him engaged in conversation with two people across the room. One of them, she recognized as Father Mancini. What was Andreas doing chatting up a man of the cloth? Maybe there was more to Father Mancini than meets the eye. She would have to do a bit more investigative work to get to the source of the unexpected development.
    The other person involved in the discussion was a woman. She looked like a librarian. A middle-aged, spinster sporting an ultra-conservative pants suit and a pair of Coke-bottle glasses. According to her nametag, Ms. Louise Shepard worked as the museum’s curator.
    Apparently, even stuffy intellectuals fell subject to the man’s infallible charm and charisma.

    ****
    Andreas spied her out of the corner of his eye as Eva inched closer. She tried to look preoccupied with the paintings hung along the south wall, but every now and again he saw her eyes dart in his direction. She must have caught him staring. Andreas couldn’t help it.
    She was breathtaking. His reaction to her instantaneous. The increased heart rate, sweaty palms, and painfully-erect cock he experienced started to feel like second nature anytime Eva was within a one-mile radius. He felt compelled to go to her and politely attempted to extricate himself from his two companions. But the damn woman next to him kept squawking like a lovesick turtle dove.
    If he didn’t need her endorsement in his bid for chairman of the arts council, he’d have blown her off hours ago. Before long, Eva found a way to infiltrate the small group of people surrounding him.
    “Father Mancini, it’s so good to see you.” Eva tapped the priest on the shoulder. Her smile spread from ear to ear as she pulled the old man into an embrace. “I had no idea you were a patron of the arts. How are you?”
    “As well as can be expected for a man of my age.” Father Mancini chuckled with robust enthusiasm, his swollen belly rumbled underneath his pristine-white tuxedo shirt. Then Father Mancini frowned and shot Eva a noticeable look of disapproval. “I didn’t see you in Mass last Sunday. You promised me I’d get to see your pretty face more often.”
    Andreas moved closer to Eva. He discretely placed the palm of his hand at the small of her back. Eva shivered at his touch. Goose bumps formed on the soft skin of her bare arm. “I agree, Father. She does have a very beautiful face.”
    “Dear Lord, forgive me. Pardon my rude behavior. Please let me introduce you to everyone.” Father Mancini talked with his hands as he motioned to the others in the group