Her Dark Knight by Sharon Cullen Read Free Book Online

telling you?”
    She hesitated, feeling stupid.
    Christien tugged on the end of her hair in a surprisingly playful gesture. “Imagination can be a delightful thing,” he murmured.
    Lainie’s gaze flew to his, to the fire inside his eyes. All she had to do was raise her head a little bit and their lips would touch. His gaze dropped to her mouth. His breath hitched. Lainie lifted up on her toes and looked into his eyes. His kiss would be gentle and worshipful. She didn’t know how she knew that. She just did and she wanted it. She wanted his lips pressed against hers. Would die if she didn’t get it.
    Suddenly he was gone and she dropped back on her heels, disoriented, embarrassed. She looked down at her shoes, afraid to see the expression on his face. What a fool she’d been. Christien had far more beautiful women to kiss than her. She was merely the messenger on an errand for her boss and would never be the type of woman to run in his circles.
    The manila envelope appeared in her sight and she grabbed on to it, her face heating in mortification.
    “Madelaine, look at me.”
    Slowly she raised her gaze to his chin, but stopped there, too much of a coward to look him in the eye. He tilted her chin up until she had no choice but to look at him. His eyes were a stormy gray, like the clouds she’d seen race over Lake Michigan.
    “Do you feel it?” he asked softly. “Do you feel what is between us?”
    She nodded, incapable of speech. She’d thought she’d been the only one experiencing this weird connection. His grimace told her it wasn’t one-sided but it was definitely unwanted.
    “What am I to do with you?” he whispered mostly to himself. Lainie could have sworn he shook himself. “Tell Etienne if he has any questions, to give me a call.”
    It took her a moment to calm the butterflies in her stomach. But she came back to earth with a solid thump that left her disoriented and bruised. What did he mean when he asked what he was going to do with her?
    “I will. Thank you.” She turned to leave. Christien fell into step beside her. They made their way across the silent dance floor. This time he didn’t hold her hand. In a way, she was grateful. She didn’t think her mind could take much more of the turmoil his presence had on her psyche and her emotions. It was this place. It did weird things to them.
    At the front door, she hesitated. “I’m sorry I interrupted your business call.”
    He looked at her with those enigmatic eyes that appeared silver one minute, a churning gray the next.
    “Take this.” With the hands of a magician, he whipped out a business card seemingly from nowhere and held it out to her. “My personal number is written on the back. If you need anything, please call me.”
    “Oh. Well.” Flustered, she stared at the card. Her common sense screamed at her to get out and never come back. “That’s very kind of you, but I don’t think—”
    “Keep it.” He put the card in her hand and curled her fingers around it, wrinkling the heavy paper and causing the corners to cut into her palm. “Please. Call if you need anything. Anything, Madelaine. Even if it is the smallest thing, I am here for you.”
    He caressed her cheek, his finger idly wandering down to her jaw to touch the key hanging at the hollow of her throat. Her vision blurred and she saw another hand, the same hand, in another time. He stepped back, broke the connection, and her vision sharpened. With a half bow, he turned and reached for the door handle.
    “Wait…”
    Christien tensed, bracing himself to turn around. The memories of Madelaine he’d kept tucked away bombarded him all night, let loose by this woman’s visit. He hadn’t even bothered trying to sleep, knowing it was pointless. In the hours before dawn and after the club closed, he’d relived every minute with her. Up until and including the defining moment of the knowledge of her death. He was tired, his nerves stretched thin. She was so much like his