Blood Rose by Sharon Page Read Free Book Online Page B

shoulder, or gently grazed her arm.
    “Which way, sweet?” Mr. Swift whispered.
    “The ballroom,” Serena said.
    Suspicion glittered in the earl’s dark eyes. “The most crowded place here? No other way?”
    She swallowed hard, and whispered, “There’s a gallery that overlooks—and stairs on both sides. We could pass through there, go down the stairs, and then down to the tunnels.”
    “And all this you learned from books?” Sommersby asked.
    “Yes, all this I learned from books.” This brothel had existed for decades—she had traced its ownership back hundreds of years, to the original Tudor building that had been on the site.
    A gong sounded—it was subdued, but it must act as a summons, because people began to flow in the opposite direction to the gallery. Some vanished into bedrooms on the way. But Serena could see that no one was looking in their direction as they reached the draped entrance to the gallery.
    His lordship went in first, simply vanishing behind the curtain. She was alone with Drake Swift. It was eerie to gaze at his mask, to have no idea of his expression. He moved in front of her, to trap her back against the wall, shielding her from the eyes of a couple of women who passed.
    He bent as though biting her neck but did not touch her. His words were soft. “Do you want my touch, Miss Lark?”
    His voice was deep, roughly accented—Serena knew he’d grown up around Covent Garden—
    but his brazen words only made his low baritone more sensual.
    Serena felt his warm breath on her skin and grew indecently wet. She felt dizzy still—from the drug, she assumed. From shock, too, no doubt, but she couldn’t give in to that. “Yes,” she said simply. She touched Mr. Swift’s cheek, below his mask, and didn’t care. She pulled him closer, drew him until his hot mouth ignited against her neck. “I do want your touch.”
    “You’re a brave woman, Miss Lark,” Mr. Swift murmured as his lips skimmed around her throat, down to the hollow at the front. Heat flared in her blood.
    Was she brave? She was nervous. Were brave people nervous? She knew that Drake Swift was wildly courageous. He’d told her that once in the Society’s library— I’m addicted to the hunt, love. It is almost as fun as making love. She hadn’t blushed for him then, which she had suspected was his goal—to embarrass the prim former governess.
    His teeth brushed her neck, and the pressure sent a bolt of pleasure rocketing through her.
    Warmth. Wetness. A delicious tickle. He was running his tongue over her neck! Her quim ached with the contact. Even the brush of the mask’s long nose along her neck made her legs wobble.
    She pushed on Mr. Swift’s shoulders to force him away. He conceded, lifting his mouth from her neck. “Did I frighten you?”
    Serena tipped her head back to look into his eyes, dazzling green behind the mask. “Of course not! But I’m so close now—I can’t be sidetracked.”
    He laughed at that, leaning back against the wall, his eyes bright behind his mask. “Do you really think books are more important than hunting? More important than passion?”
    “Tonight, yes,” she answered, trying to banter.
    “Do you really believe that words, not stakes, can destroy vampires?”

    Blood Rose ©Sharon Page 2007 Email: [email protected] 23

    She hadn’t expected such a question from Drake Swift, the man known as the Mad Slayer.
    Strangely, having him forsake his devil-may-care persona and show a glimpse of his soul made her heart thump against her ribs. She moved closer to the drapery. “Words have great power. And I have no choice but to bury myself in words—the Society will not let me hunt.”
    “But tonight you defied them. Are books worth risking your life?”
    He was questioning her motives, and she couldn’t have that. “Are you offering, now, to let me hunt with you?” she asked. “To take me on as an apprentice?”
    He looked more startled than if she had lifted her robe and