“Nonsense, Portia. Your head is polluted with romanticisms.”
“Better romance than dread.”
Indeed. Constantine’s visit had stirred dread in Viviane’s heart. Dread for a dismal future that would see her freedom abolished. Monsieur Hawkes had an awkward, misplaced sense of romance.
Romance?
Rhys Hawkes and Viviane LaMourette? The idea of it tickled Viviane’s persistent desire for all things sensual.
CHAPTER NINE
Paris, modern day
RHYS ASKED SIMON TO DROP his things in a guest suite then return immediately to the grand room to go over their plans.
It was good to be home. He owned estates in New York, Daytona Beach and Venice, but Paris was truly home.
Brushing aside the curtain, he admired the sky, dappled with stars. The moon must be on the other side of the house. Two days until it was full. After all the decades had passed, he still took no pleasure trying to sate his vampire or in locking his werewolf away.
Sexually sating the werewolf on the day preceding the full moon and the day following was not a hardship. It was what all werewolves craved during the full moon, sex, or rather, mating. A connection with one’s mate they kept for life.
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