Free La Luxure: Discover Your Blood Lust by Cd Hussey Page A

body and drip onto the dirty street. "Oh," she breathed. So,
her instincts had been correct after all. Well, except for the part
where she'd wanted to run screaming from the cemetery when he snuck
up on her.
    The smile dropped from his lips. "It's a
shame. It should never come to that."
    She looked at him with fresh eyes, startled
by how drawn she was to him. "It is a shame."
    A neon sign blinking directly behind Armand's
head suddenly caught her eye. "Oysters," she blurted.
    Armand paused, glancing at the café behind
him. "Would you like some oysters?"
    "Oh, um, no. I'd just gone looking for
oysters the other night, but the place I went to was packed so I
didn't. I mean, I'd like some but I'm fine right now." It was more
than a little frustrating the way words tumbled recklessly out of
her mouth whenever Armand made her nervous, especially since his
always seemed so carefully chosen.
    He pulled open the door. "I'm not the kind of
man to deny a woman her oysters."
    "Um," she hesitated, unsure what to do. Ten
minutes ago she was arguing whether or not Armand was a murderer
and now she was contemplating having dinner with him.
    Feeling the corner of her lips curl up in a
smile, she couldn't believe what she was about to do. It was
completely unlike her. But she wanted adventure, and this was
territory far, far away from her comfort zone
    "Are you hungry?" Julia asked as she eased
past him into the café.
    He leaned forward. "I'm always hungry," he
said directly into her ear.
    Her body temperature jumped up at least ten
degrees and most of it radiated from between her legs. Clare was
right. It had been way too long since Julia was intimate with a man
if a few sexily spoken words from one she'd just met, and knew very
little about, made her light up.
    "Do you want to get a table...?"
    "Why don't we stand at the bar," he
suggested. "It'll be more of a New Orleans experience that
way."
    They stepped up to the cool, stone counter
next to a couple of 20-something men with Bloody Mary's and a dozen
half-shell oysters spread out on the granite before them. The
server cracked shells and tossed them onto the bar almost as
quickly as the men sucked them down.
    "What can I get you miss?" he asked, still
rapidly shucking oysters, his knife never missing a beat.
    "May I have a half-dozen, and a water?"
    "And you sir?"
    "I'm fine, thank you."
    Julia turned to Armand. "I thought you were
hungry."
    "Unfortunately, there's nothing on this menu
I can eat."
    Okay, how much evidence did she need? Was it
possible? The thought was so preposterous, but the clues were all
there. Could Armand really be -?
    "Julia!" Her own name crashed through her
thoughts like a raging bull. Annoyed at the interruption, she
turned to greet a beaming Dave.
    "Oh. Hey Dave."
    "We're going to grab a drink." He gestured
out the door towards one of the many bars on Bourbon St. "Do you
want to join us?"
    No, she did not want to join him. Things were
way too interesting here. "Um..." She glanced at Armand, trying to
figure out how to politely turn Dave down and introduce her
neighbor at the same time.
    Armand's face was dark and unreadable, but he
must have misinterpreted her glance because he said, quite
formally, "It was a pleasure seeing you again, Julia. But I'm
afraid I must excuse myself."
    She'd barely opened her mouth to protest by
the time Armand had inclined his head and was out the door.
Exasperated, she turned to Dave. It might not be his fault, but she
felt like yelling at him anyway.
    "Wow," Dave said, looking at the dark doorway
Armand had just bolted through. "Where'd you meet that freak?"
    Her appetite left as quickly as Armand had.
"Dave, I'm going to have to pass on the drink. I'm suddenly not
feeling well. All those cocktails last night have been wrecking
havoc with me all day. In fact, do you want some oysters?" She
found it incredibly irritating that the moment Armand was out of
sight, she could miraculously manage her tongue.
    "I guess." The furrows