Don't Hex and Drive (Stay a Spell, #2)

by Juliette Cross

I don’t care if he’d won Sexiest Man of the Year, two Oscars, a Golden Globe, and Coolest Asshole in a Lamborghini Award. The fact that he had my sisters all swoony and girlish made me want to hurl.

That was me. I was Mr. Darcy. Introverted, shy, and nervous in large crowds and around strangers. Except the difference between me and Mr. Darcy was that I had no desire to grow outside my small social circle. Content with everyone on this side of my comfort zone, I definitely had no interest in expanding it to include this vampire.

Was it ungentlemanly to semi-steal a note that wasn’t mine? Yes. But I’d glimpsed my name in a feminine scrawl which suddenly negated all rules of a gentleman.

“Daaaaaamn,” crooned Violet as the camera panned to his glorious back, muscles rippling under dark bronze skin a thing of fantasies. Some women’s fantasies, anyway. Not mine. Totally not mine.

Christ. One smile, and I was devastated. Lost. Swimming in an ocean of what-the-fuck.

Gripping the back of her neck, I pulled her to me and pressed her cheek to my chest, then whispered to her temple, “Okay. Don’t worry.” Her hair tickled my cheek. I couldn’t help but press my mouth to the crown of her head with a comforting kiss. “I’ll take you.”

Her slender body pressed to mine felt like holding home in my arms. I knew then that there wasn’t anything I wouldn’t do for Isadora Savoie. It also dawned on me that it was getting harder and harder to fool myself. What I wanted with this beautiful witch was anything but casual.

Make no mistake. Whether she knew it or not, this was a date.

I realized that my shy girl only opened up like this for people she trusted. A fact that had warmth blooming in the center of my chest.

Fucking hell. This woman. Her body. Her soul. I wanted it all.

Because whatever that was, it wasn’t playful. It felt like danger and providence and a shocking dose of destiny. Whereas I was perfectly ready to discuss and explore what that could mean, it was quite obvious that Isadora wasn’t.

What Isadora Savoie didn’t know or understand was that one drop of her blood had set my body on fire. Perhaps my soul, too. Infecting me with a drive I couldn’t suppress even if I wanted to. And I didn’t want to. There was something about her. She’d had me prowling and circling from the moment we met, and that fateful nick on her tongue sealed the deal. I was now on the hunt. For her.

This woman had no idea how hard I listened to her. How much I obsessed over every word that came out of her mouth. Over every lithe movement of her body, every soft expression, every blink of her haunting green eyes.

Then I had to admit to myself that I liked him watching out for me. Or maybe I just liked him watching me. And that was bad. Dangerous.

That was the real obstacle here. Not the truth. But her perception of the truth. And sometimes, that’s all that mattered.

“No space between us, love.” His voice was soft, melodic, but his expression was fierce. Determined. Dominant. “Do you understand?”

Then music blared from the front yard. Loud music. I jumped and turned on the stool. Clara let go of my damp hair. “What the hell?” I asked, staring out the open balcony doors. “Is that—? Is that Peter Gabriel?” “Sounds like ‘In Your Eyes.’ Might want to check that out,” she said sweetly.

ITS A SAY ANYTHING MOMENT, AHHHHH!