Nightwind by Charlotte Boyett-Compo Read Free Book Online Page B

asked as she placed an hors d’oeuvre on the plate her escort
    was holding for her.
    “I’m not hungry,” he answered, looking out over the crowd of people assembled in Allen Turnbridge’s
    home.
    “I am!” Beth piled several more canapés on the plate then touched his arm to gain his attention for he
    was staring across the room at a rather good-looking brunette. When his attention swung back to her,
    she thought she saw a flash of irritation. “Is something wrong?” she asked.
    “No. What could possibly be wrong?”
    “You were looking at Angeline Hellstrom as though you could gobble her up where she stands.” A huffy
    tone entered Beth’s voice for he looked back across the room. “Have you met her?”
    “Who?” he asked, still looking at the striking woman.
    “Angeline Hellstrom!”
    “No, I’ve never met her,” he said. “Who is she?”
    Beth had wanted to make an indelible impression on the town’s newest, richest inhabitant, but she was
    beginning to think that all the time she had wasted at her toilet had been for nothing. He had yet to
    compliment her on her dress or looks and he seemed to be fascinated with the town’s most sought-after
    society matron.
    “She just owns half of this state, that’s who she is,” Beth groused. “She’s had more husbands than
    Elizabeth Taylor and Zsa Zsa Gabor rolled into one.” She swung her narrowed gaze to the woman.
    “Unless you’re a multi-millionaire, she won’t have anything to do with you.” She turned pale as Angeline
    Hellstrom looked their way almost as though she had heard herself being discussed. Her nails dug into
    her palms as the woman excused herself from the group of men around her and headed their way.
    “Oh, shit! She noticed you.”
    He watched her walking toward him, her lips parted in a mocking smile. Her hips were swaying
    seductively beneath the green silk of her sheath. As she reached them, she held out one slim hand toward
    him.
    “Mr. Cree, isn’t it?” she asked in a breathless, smoky voice.
    He took her hand in his and brought the slim white fingers to his lips. “You have me at a disadvantage,
    my lady,” he answered smoothly, his eyes boring into hers.
    “Introduce us,” Angeline demanded of Beth, not even bothering to look at the girl.
    “Angeline Hellstrom, Syntian Cree,” Beth mumbled, shifting from one foot to another.
    “Syntian,” she sighed his name. “May I call you, Syn?”
    “Call me whatever you wish to call me, my lady. I might come and I might not,” was his throaty reply. At
    her light giggle, his left brow crooked.
    “What if I were to call you my sweet demon?” she taunted. “My incubus come to brighten up an
    otherwise dreary existence?”
    He released her hand and snorted with grim humor. He shook his head. “You are wicked.”
    “And are you as wicked as your name implies?” she asked, glancing at Beth.
    “When the occasion warrants.”
    Beth looked from one to the other as they spoke and had the uncanny feeling that they not only knew
    one another but knew one another more intimately than anyone else ever would. The heated look that
    passed between them was almost vulgar in its intensity. She was about to turn away, when her escort
    reached down and threaded his strong fingers through hers, tapping her hand suggestively against his
    steel-like thigh.
    “It was a pleasure, my lady,” he said to Angeline. “Perhaps we’ll meet again.”
    “Count on it,” Angeline assured him. She reached out a delicate hand and touched his cheek. “My
    demon.” Her scrutiny slid insultingly to Beth. “I’d be careful of him, my dear. He’s more dangerous than
    you know.” She smiled nastily and excused herself.
    Beth’s mouth dropped open. She didn’t know what to say to the sultry bitch. The gentle tugging on her
    hand as her escort’s fingers tightened, made her look up at him with pique.
    “What the hell was all that about?” she demanded.
    Syntian laughed, his appraisal on