Saved By Blood (The By Blood Vampire Series Book 3) by Samantha Snow Read Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Samantha Snow
maybe not decided exactly, but she was coming nonetheless, cursing her compulsion the whole way. She was literally running to him.
He could feel that, too. He couldn’t understand why he was hearing these things, why he was privileged to have this access to her, but he welcomed it. He knew without needing to be told that it was only temporary and so should be cherished, which only made him welcome it all the more.
And all of a sudden, he was calm. That violent storm raging inside of him that came from a feeling of impotence and want was quieted immediately. He became who he had been before taking his surprisingly eventful walk. He walked quietly to his large bar, not feeling like it was ridiculous at all at this point, and began fixing Megan a drink. He couldn’t have said why, but he was pretty sure he knew what her favorite was.
That connection he had with her had been temporary and was already fading fast, but he had developed a kind of a profile on her and that didn’t look like it was going anywhere any time soon. A French 75, that was the drink for her. A French 75 would be just the thing for her and she would be there to drink it very, very soon.
He could practically hear her footsteps falling, pounding against the pavement as if her life depended on it. Pretty soon, she was close enough that he could actually smell her sweet perfume and the equally sweet smell (to him, at least, and he was willing to recognize that his tastes did have a tendency to go to the strange) of her sweat mingling with agitation and just a little dose of fear.
It was an animal smell and it made Philip’s mouth water. It was funny, the way desire worked on a man. It didn’t seem to matter what kind of man he was, either, what sort of background was his to call upon or barriers he had in his past. Desire could become an all-encompassing thing, eating through him with an insatiable hunger that could not be ignored. That he did not want to ignore.
Desire could make everything else in the world pale in comparison of its sweet face, could kiss you sweetly and then slap you in the face hard enough to rock your head backwards on your neck. Desire was a funny thing indeed, and his particular desire was now standing beside his front gate and peering up at his large and admittedly lovely house.
He could see her silhouette through the billowing white curtains of his front room and he realized that he positively burned for her. Even just that silhouette, that hint of the perfect curved lines of her body, was enough to drive a man insane. Philip wasn’t any kind of man, he was far more than that, but even he was not immune. He wondered if she knew just how much of an impression she could make.
It seemed to Philip that most women realized just exactly how they affected the men they interacted with. It was both their gift and their curse, the thing that helped them to get what they wanted and also sometimes restricted their lives into spaces far smaller than the ones they perhaps deserved.
But Megan, Megan seemed to be different, at least to him, from the little bit he had intuited about her. Megan struck him as the kind of girl who didn’t know much about herself at all. She struck him as the kind of girl who just existed, flitting from one place to the next without any real intention.
It was part of why she was here now. It was part of why she was standing outside of his home and gawking up at it, then opening the little picturesque gate (a gate that had to be there for decorative purposes only; there was no way it could keep anyone out besides a child) and moving with uncertainty through his gardens.
He could feel her awe at those gardens and then the sense of pride he felt at said awe. The gardens were something he really did love, although he would rarely admit such a thing. He didn’t like admitting things like that. He had an archaic
He could feel that, too. He couldn’t understand why he was hearing these things, why he was privileged to have this access to her, but he welcomed it. He knew without needing to be told that it was only temporary and so should be cherished, which only made him welcome it all the more.
And all of a sudden, he was calm. That violent storm raging inside of him that came from a feeling of impotence and want was quieted immediately. He became who he had been before taking his surprisingly eventful walk. He walked quietly to his large bar, not feeling like it was ridiculous at all at this point, and began fixing Megan a drink. He couldn’t have said why, but he was pretty sure he knew what her favorite was.
That connection he had with her had been temporary and was already fading fast, but he had developed a kind of a profile on her and that didn’t look like it was going anywhere any time soon. A French 75, that was the drink for her. A French 75 would be just the thing for her and she would be there to drink it very, very soon.
He could practically hear her footsteps falling, pounding against the pavement as if her life depended on it. Pretty soon, she was close enough that he could actually smell her sweet perfume and the equally sweet smell (to him, at least, and he was willing to recognize that his tastes did have a tendency to go to the strange) of her sweat mingling with agitation and just a little dose of fear.
It was an animal smell and it made Philip’s mouth water. It was funny, the way desire worked on a man. It didn’t seem to matter what kind of man he was, either, what sort of background was his to call upon or barriers he had in his past. Desire could become an all-encompassing thing, eating through him with an insatiable hunger that could not be ignored. That he did not want to ignore.
Desire could make everything else in the world pale in comparison of its sweet face, could kiss you sweetly and then slap you in the face hard enough to rock your head backwards on your neck. Desire was a funny thing indeed, and his particular desire was now standing beside his front gate and peering up at his large and admittedly lovely house.
He could see her silhouette through the billowing white curtains of his front room and he realized that he positively burned for her. Even just that silhouette, that hint of the perfect curved lines of her body, was enough to drive a man insane. Philip wasn’t any kind of man, he was far more than that, but even he was not immune. He wondered if she knew just how much of an impression she could make.
It seemed to Philip that most women realized just exactly how they affected the men they interacted with. It was both their gift and their curse, the thing that helped them to get what they wanted and also sometimes restricted their lives into spaces far smaller than the ones they perhaps deserved.
But Megan, Megan seemed to be different, at least to him, from the little bit he had intuited about her. Megan struck him as the kind of girl who didn’t know much about herself at all. She struck him as the kind of girl who just existed, flitting from one place to the next without any real intention.
It was part of why she was here now. It was part of why she was standing outside of his home and gawking up at it, then opening the little picturesque gate (a gate that had to be there for decorative purposes only; there was no way it could keep anyone out besides a child) and moving with uncertainty through his gardens.
He could feel her awe at those gardens and then the sense of pride he felt at said awe. The gardens were something he really did love, although he would rarely admit such a thing. He didn’t like admitting things like that. He had an archaic
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