Succubus Blues by Richelle Mead Read Free Book Online Page A

green-blue. To my relief, he played along and returned my serve masterfully.
    â€œYou bet.” His own arm snaked around me, his hand resting on my hip with surprising presumption. “I would have been here sooner, but I got held up in traffic.”
    Cute. I glanced at Warren. “Rain check for our talk?”
    Warren looked from me to the guy and then back to me. “Sure. Yes. Of course.” Warren had proprietary feelings toward me, but they weren’t strong enough for him to challenge a younger competitor.
    A few of my coworkers also watched with interest. Like Warren, none of them had ever really seen me date anyone. Seth Mortensen busied himself packing up a briefcase, never meeting my eyes again, for all the world oblivious to my existence. He didn’t even respond when I said goodbye. Probably just as well.
    My “date” and I left the store, stepping out into the cool night. The precipitation had stopped, but clouds and city lights blotted out the stars. Studying him, I kind of wished maybe we were going out after all.
    He was tall—really tall. Probably at least ten inches taller than my diminutive five-four. His hair was black and wavy, brushed away from a deeply tanned face that nearly made those sea-colored eyes glow. He wore a long, black wool coat and a scarf with a black, burgundy, and green plaid pattern.
    â€œThanks,” I said as we paused to stand on the street corner. “You saved me from an…unpleasant situation.”
    â€œMy pleasure.” He held out his hand to me. “I’m Roman.”
    â€œNice name.”
    â€œI guess. It reminds me of a romance novel.”
    â€œOh?”
    â€œYeah. No one’s really named that in real life. But in romance novels, there are a million of them. ‘Roman the Fifth Duke of Wellington.’ ‘Roman the Terrible yet Dashing and Eerily Attractive Pirate of the High Seas.’”
    â€œHey, I think I read that last one. I’m Georgina.”
    â€œSo I see.” He nodded toward the staff ID badge I wore around my neck. Probably an excuse to check out my cleavage. “Is that outfit the standard uniform for assistant managers?”
    â€œThis outfit’s becoming a real pain in the ass actually,” I noted, thinking of the various reactions it had elicited.
    â€œYou can wear my coat. Where do you want to go tonight?”
    â€œWhere do I—? We aren’t going out. I told you: you just saved me from a minor entanglement, that’s all.”
    â€œHey, that’s still got to be worth something,” he countered. “A handkerchief? A kiss on the cheek? Your phone number?”
    â€œNo!”
    â€œOh, come on. Did you see how good I was? I didn’t miss a beat when you roped me in with that come-hither look of yours.”
    I couldn’t deny that. “All right. It’s 555-1200.”
    â€œThat’s the store number.”
    â€œHow did you know that?”
    He pointed to the Emerald City sign behind me. It contained all of the store’s contact information. “Because I’m literate.”
    â€œWow. That puts you, like, ten steps above most of the guys that hit on me.”
    He turned hopeful. “So does that mean we can go out sometime?”
    â€œNope. I appreciate your help tonight, but I don’t date.”
    â€œDon’t think of it as a date then. Think of it as…a meeting of minds.”
    The way he looked at me suggested he wanted to meet more than just my mind. I shivered involuntarily, but I wasn’t cold. In fact, I was starting to feel unnervingly warm.
    He unbuttoned his coat. “Here. You’re freezing. Wear this while I take you home. My car’s around the corner.”
    â€œI live within walking distance.” His coat was still warm from his body and smelled nice. A combination of cK One and, well, man . Yum.
    â€œThen let me walk you home.”
    His persistence was charming, which was