Let Them Speak (Vampire Assassin League #13) by Jackie Ivie Read Free Book Online

In Santo Domingo. My mother was…uh…she was one of the non-hired help. Of mixed blood. Mostly French.”
    “You’re …Creole, then?”
    “Does it matter?”
    “Of course not. Look, all I’m here for is the house. Doesn’t really matter who owns it, their history, or their ancestry. As long as they’re legally entitled and mentally competent to sign a lease, that’s the bottom line. Got it?”
    “No . You’re here because I brought you here.”
    Sydney tilted her head . Hard to argue that. “True,” she finally remarked.
    “And the real reason is a bit more complicated.”
    “Try me.”
    He glanced down at the tray he still held and back at her . “You don’t need a restorative?”
    “Do I act it?”
    If an undead thing sighed, he would have. She got that part from the exasperated sound coming from somewhere between his teeth. And that reminded her…she hadn’t noted any elongated canines recently. And that’s what had started this spate of nonsense he called swooning. She watched him swivel and place the tray on a low table right behind him. Actually, she watched the muscles in his legs flex and move beneath his trousers as he did it, but that wasn’t something she was willing to admit.
    Damn !   If he was a vampire, she was up against some major odds. She’d heard about their allure. That’s why they were starting this series with a vampire episode. Everywhere she looked was advertisement about how sexy a vampire is. She hadn’t believed it. She still didn’t, even with one of them right there!   Within touching distance. And the propaganda was dead on, too. Vampires were very sexy. This one in particular was oozing sex appeal with every passing second. Hell…nobody in the real world would believe this.
    Maybe she should search out an option four here.
    “Okay. So. How about I start? How much are we talking to lease your place? It’s got three floors, right? Or…make that two habitable floors and an attic. And I know you’ve got a servant’s wing. I’m going to guess at least what – three bedrooms? Maybe four? And I’m also going to guess you’re a bit low on bathrooms, so we’ll need to bring in our own port-a-units. Stop me if I’m wrong.”
    He ignored her for the most part, thank goodness!   She’d kept talking as he stood, ran his hands along his coat edge before pulling his pant legs out from where they were pressing on some very interesting parts, and then he simply swiveled and took up the space right beside her. On the settee. And that just matched one of those really nice muscular thighs against one of hers. Only now she got to experience exactly how hard and masculine it felt, too. She couldn’t face him. She clasped her hands together and tried to watch them and not the leg right beside hers.
    “How old are you, Sydney?”
    “That’s pretty personal information to ask a potential lessee, isn’t it?”
    “Twenty-six?”
    She smiled. “Almost thirty. Next month. Thank you.”
    She pulled in a breath and moved her head to face him . And got some sort of electric shock the moment her eyes met his. She watched as his eyes widened, too. As if he also felt it. But that was patently ridiculous. The entire situation was.
    Option Four must be to get drunk. Perhaps she should start. She didn’t even care if it was dark rum. Or vodka.  
    “Hmm.”
    That bit of growling noise he gave sent shivers through her spine. Down her arms. Legs. Hell, even her fingers and toes tingled. Sydney swallowed and moved her view to his chin.
    “ Look. Devereaux. I need an opening figure.”
    “I’m twenty-six ,” he replied.
    She snorted . “I’m older than you? That’s funny.” 
    “Age is a variable here.”
    “How about I start? I’ll offer…six. Six grand a month. With utilities.”
    “I was turned in the year 1783.”
    Her mouth opened . Nothing came out.
    “ I was dueling.”
    “ Dueling? Right. Swords or pistols?”
    “A sword is a gentleman’s