Brimstone Seduction by Barbara J. Hancock Read Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Barbara J. Hancock
murmur had stopped. Her pulse rushed in her ears.
A black dog stood with its feet braced apart and its head down. Though its teeth werenât bared, a growl rumbled from deep in its chest again, and its bushy black hair stood on end at its hackles, showing paler pewter beneath.
The dog was out of place. The opera house around herâwhile vintageâwas all slumbering opulence. He was a nightmare hallucination from a dark fairy tale where wolves appeared larger than humanly possible.
âOkay,â Kat soothed. The shaky syllables scared her more than the growl. Instinct warned her not to show weakness to this angry creature of shadows come to life. Its eyes gleamed yellow in the gaslight flicker as she tried again. âI was only looking at the mural. Nothing to get upset about,â she said.
The dog didnât relax. But it didnât growl again as she edged away from it toward the west wing, where sheâd been told dinner would be served.
âNo one warned me about you. Iâll have to talk to Severne about that oversight.â
The dog disengaged from the shadows of the adjacent hallway, but as he stepped into the light, he brought clinging darkness with him rather than leaving it behind. He was black, but there was a gray, sooty quality to every hair on him as it shifted over his muscles, remnants of a dark fog roiling around him as he walked.
âIâm on my way to dinner. Perhaps thereâll be a bone for you there,â she suggested.
Preferably a bone not attached to me.
The animal was as tall as her waist, and its snout was long and broad. Its muzzle indicated a powerful jaw, a deadly bite. It couldnât come to that. She had to keep it from coming to that. She couldnât afford an injury now when Vic depended on her to stay strong. The dog was no longer growling. Sheâd willed her breathing to slow. She forced herself to walk slowly, as well. Now that sheâd stepped away from the mural, toward the dining room, the dog padded with her, silent and slightly calmed.
It was an odd escort to have down hallways that must have seen much fancier processions. Kat was reminded of Little Red Riding Hood in a black forest with a giant trickster wolf at her heels. The dog was more German shepherd than wolf, but his size was twice that of any wolf, and there was no woodcutter in sight. She saved herself, step by step, refusing to show her fear to the tense animal looming beside her. They came to the entrance of the dining room. She paused to smooth her skirt.
It was good that sheâd had to calm herself before entering the room. Truth was, the beast at her heels was no more frightening than the man she prepared to face.
The table glittered with crystal, china and silver, but it also welcomed with more intimate warmth than sheâd expected. Half a dozen candles glowed in the jeweled centerpiece at the tableâs heart, throwing off colored shadows of ruby, emerald and sapphire. The boy was already seated, drinking from a large glass of milk held in both hands. He greeted her with big dark eyes and a white moustache.
âMs. DâArcy has found us, Eric,â Severne said.
Their host reclined at the head of the table in a large, straight-backed chair with red velvet upholstery and a scrolled wooden frame, very throne-like and fitting to his authoritative demeanor. And yet, the tilt of his finely shaped mouth drew her eyes. She thought about soft silken petals heâd given her. Sheâd imagined them a substitution for a kiss. Had she been correct? Had he wanted to kiss her because her music had moved him? Sheâd been certain before, but facing him now she was no longer sure she could read him at all. She noticed the swell of his lower lip was fuller and more sensual than sheâd first imagined, a hint of softness in an otherwise hard line.
Now that sheâd tasted it, she couldnât forget it was there.
The dog showed itself behind her and
A black dog stood with its feet braced apart and its head down. Though its teeth werenât bared, a growl rumbled from deep in its chest again, and its bushy black hair stood on end at its hackles, showing paler pewter beneath.
The dog was out of place. The opera house around herâwhile vintageâwas all slumbering opulence. He was a nightmare hallucination from a dark fairy tale where wolves appeared larger than humanly possible.
âOkay,â Kat soothed. The shaky syllables scared her more than the growl. Instinct warned her not to show weakness to this angry creature of shadows come to life. Its eyes gleamed yellow in the gaslight flicker as she tried again. âI was only looking at the mural. Nothing to get upset about,â she said.
The dog didnât relax. But it didnât growl again as she edged away from it toward the west wing, where sheâd been told dinner would be served.
âNo one warned me about you. Iâll have to talk to Severne about that oversight.â
The dog disengaged from the shadows of the adjacent hallway, but as he stepped into the light, he brought clinging darkness with him rather than leaving it behind. He was black, but there was a gray, sooty quality to every hair on him as it shifted over his muscles, remnants of a dark fog roiling around him as he walked.
âIâm on my way to dinner. Perhaps thereâll be a bone for you there,â she suggested.
Preferably a bone not attached to me.
The animal was as tall as her waist, and its snout was long and broad. Its muzzle indicated a powerful jaw, a deadly bite. It couldnât come to that. She had to keep it from coming to that. She couldnât afford an injury now when Vic depended on her to stay strong. The dog was no longer growling. Sheâd willed her breathing to slow. She forced herself to walk slowly, as well. Now that sheâd stepped away from the mural, toward the dining room, the dog padded with her, silent and slightly calmed.
It was an odd escort to have down hallways that must have seen much fancier processions. Kat was reminded of Little Red Riding Hood in a black forest with a giant trickster wolf at her heels. The dog was more German shepherd than wolf, but his size was twice that of any wolf, and there was no woodcutter in sight. She saved herself, step by step, refusing to show her fear to the tense animal looming beside her. They came to the entrance of the dining room. She paused to smooth her skirt.
It was good that sheâd had to calm herself before entering the room. Truth was, the beast at her heels was no more frightening than the man she prepared to face.
The table glittered with crystal, china and silver, but it also welcomed with more intimate warmth than sheâd expected. Half a dozen candles glowed in the jeweled centerpiece at the tableâs heart, throwing off colored shadows of ruby, emerald and sapphire. The boy was already seated, drinking from a large glass of milk held in both hands. He greeted her with big dark eyes and a white moustache.
âMs. DâArcy has found us, Eric,â Severne said.
Their host reclined at the head of the table in a large, straight-backed chair with red velvet upholstery and a scrolled wooden frame, very throne-like and fitting to his authoritative demeanor. And yet, the tilt of his finely shaped mouth drew her eyes. She thought about soft silken petals heâd given her. Sheâd imagined them a substitution for a kiss. Had she been correct? Had he wanted to kiss her because her music had moved him? Sheâd been certain before, but facing him now she was no longer sure she could read him at all. She noticed the swell of his lower lip was fuller and more sensual than sheâd first imagined, a hint of softness in an otherwise hard line.
Now that sheâd tasted it, she couldnât forget it was there.
The dog showed itself behind her and