Gargoyle's Mate by Nia K. Foxx Read Free Book Online Page B

if they were embroiled in a monstrous battle. She noted the humans were poorly outmatched with swords against gargantuan creatures with fangs, claws and obvious superior strength.
    “It’s quite ghastly, I agree.” Pierre stepped beside her, his voice seeming to catch in his throat. “This way,” he encouraged after several seconds of quiet contemplation. Fatima followed him, watching as he tugged on the black knit cap he wore.
    She wondered its significance because Mike had worn one like it in Michigan, as did Luc. Did it denote some sort of caste? She shook her head. The sort of thing didn’t exist in modern day France. Neither do fully functioning castles, she reminded herself, unless they were part of a tour package for foreigners.
    “Please make yourself comfortable. Dinner will be in a couple of hours. Perhaps you would like to freshen up or have a nap after your long journey?”
    His offer sounded like heaven. She hadn’t had a chance to fully recoup from her Michigan trip before flying across the world. Pierre showed her all of the surprising modern amenities her room had to offer before closing the heavy wooden door as he left. The interior was massive and she took in the beauty of the space from its high ceilings and fireplace to the four-poster bed that would have taken up her entire bedroom back home. As an interesting contrast to the dark wood tones the room was decorated in deep blues and yellows, her favorite color combination.
    Could Lorn have known? She dismissed the thought just as quickly as it had come. A gentle knock on the door caused her heart rate to go into overdrive. Self-consciously she touched her neat ponytail, trying to calm her erratic pulse.
    “Come in,” she called, bracing herself for the devastating image of Lorn De LaRue. Instead Luc the driver, weighed down with a couple of her suitcases, staggered inside.
    “Where would you like these?”
    “Um…anywhere,” she whispered, upset with herself for feeling disappointed.
    “Don’t bother with unpacking. My sister will take care of it for you,” he continued as he strutted back into the hall for another batch of cases.
    Fatima’s gaze was drawn to his firm backside, molded perfectly in jeans.
    Nice , she thought before turning to grab one of the bags containing her summer wear. She was dying for a shower and change of clothes.
    “Is there anything else?” he asked as he arranged the last of her cases near the wide bed.
    “No, thank you,” she replied, pulling out a cotton shirt and skirt. When she realized he made no move to leave she looked up.
    “Are you sure there’s nothing else?” he asked slowly, enunciating each word.
    Images of her in his arms, his lips trailing kisses down her neck, bombarded Fatima. She gasped aloud at the vivid pictures.
    Boy, am I jetlagged , she thought.
    “Luc!” Pierre seemed to appear out of nowhere. “I believe you have other duties to attend to instead of loitering around here.”
    The young man looked annoyed before nodding in her direction. “Perhaps another time,” he added before turning away.
    The door was drawn closed in his wake, but not before she heard Pierre launch into a language she couldn’t identify.
    Dismissing the entire exchange, Fatima made her way to the luxurious adjoining bathroom, determined not to be distracted by thoughts of Lorn or his horde of cap-adorned employees. She was there to do a job. One she was certain wouldn’t require an entire year of her time, because anyone in their right mind knew gargoyles didn’t exist.
    ***
    A very real, Lorn De LaRue made a conscious effort to stay out of the castle where he knew Fatima was being safely ensconced. His mistake was in staying on the property; obviously he hadn’t traveled far enough away to be immune from her effects. He was aware the moment she arrived. Her scent wafted to him on a gentle breeze, beckoning him. Instantly his body reacted, and memories of her in his arms flooded his brain. He tuned