Wickedest Witch

Wickedest Witch

“Miss Rasputin, what a delight to finally meet you,” said the vamp, speaking with only the faintest hint of an accent.

“Let’s hope you still feel that way in a few minutes, Mr. Delacroix.”

“Pierre, please. And may I call you Evangaline?” Pierre smiled at her winsomely.

“No, you may not. My name is Ms. Rasputin to you.”

Her answer took the vamp aback, but he recovered quickly and smiled again showing off his small pointed canines. Pierre’s dark eyes flicked over to Ryker in his feline form and he raised an aristocratic brow. “My, what a big pussy you have.”

“You know what they say, the bigger the better.”

― Eve Langlais, Wickedest Witch

“You,” he whispered disbelievingly.

Evangeline didn’t understand the look he gave her, one that registered recognition. No one but close family knew her true face.

“Yes me. Who else would I be?” She tugged at the wrist he held manacled in one big hand, but he refused to release her.

“You wear a disguise?”

“I prefer to think of it as business attire,” she replied with a toss of her hair. It probably didn’t have the desired effect given it sprang from her head in a wild mane of unruly curls.

“I can see why. This is much too tempting.”

Tempting? Did he speak of her short and curvy frame? Had his mother dropped him on his head one too many times as a child?

Her confusion over his reaction made her miss his free hand coming to rest on her waist, but she felt it even through her clothes. Like a molten hot brand, the touch of his hand made her knees go weak, and he pulled her unresistingly up against the hardness of his body. And she meant hard.

Evangeline’s eyes widened at the evidence of his arousal pressing against her. This doesn’t make sense. Men do not become aroused at the sight of my plump and freckled self. As she puzzled over this surprise, he threw her another as he pulled her up to meet his lips and for once, she didn’t protest, too caught up in the erotic spell he’d cast over her.

Their lips touched and a disturbing sense of rightness clamored through her, one that screamed, “Mine!”

Because even evil witches deserve true love.

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