Page 68 of The Forsaken

Then, snatching her hands free of his, she wheeled off and fled the dance floor, leaving him wondering what the hell he’d done to account for her tears this time.

By the time he shouldered his way through people attempting to get his attention and neared in on Andromena, healthy anger crowded out reason.

Kerr shoved both terrace doors open and stormed outside. “For the love of God, woman! You will stop running away from me.”

And in the first miracle of humanity, the obstinate chit did as he demanded.

Spinning in a whirl of sparkling, foamy pink chiffon, she faced him.

The words he intended to speak vanished.

Her flushed cheeks brought to mind the last time he held her.

Andromena lifted her skirts, revealing the shapeliest pair of calves he’d ever seen.

Kerr’s throat went bone dry; every breath became a struggle.

She moved, like some pagan dancer, up and down, fluidly graceful even on one slippered foot. His cock responded to her bizarre dance as it responded to everything the siren did, each bounce sending her plunging neckline lower. The moon did him the additional favor of bathing the generous expanse of her breasts in a soft gl—

A slipper struck his chest and dropped.

Kerr recoiled and looked where she struck him.

He had taken sabers to the shoulder with less alarm.

Jaw slack, he raised his eyes just in time to duck the incoming heel.

The bloodthirsty hellion tossed her gloves next.

They both froze.

He narrowed his eyes and caught the exact moment she saw the danger.

“Anything else?” he purred.

Kerr and Andromena moved at the same time.

She bolted into Aragon’s grotto.

Kerr followed at his leisure into the low, rough-built cavern of flint and tufa, its walls encrusted with pale shells, glittering minerals, and fragments of colored glass. Moonlight caught the curves of conches and cowries, turning the shadows beneath them black.

Pressed against a life-size conch shell made of small ones, Andromena stood in her glittering gown—Botticelli’s Venus come to life.

He had her where he wanted her.

Kerr pulled an uneven breath through his nose.

Wrong. He wanted her under him. He wanted to bury himself so deep and hard inside of her, they couldn’t sort out where each started and ended.

The harsh rasp of their breathing echoed off the cavern walls.

Kerr fought for restraint. To give the illusion of control, as he walked, he freed the buttons on his white kidskin gloves, one at a time, and peeled the tight material off finger by finger.

He stopped a pace away and beat his gloves together.

Andromena eyed him warily.

He let them fall.