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Sleep was the furthest thing from her mind as she lay almost naked against this ruggedly powerful and mysterious man.
The longer Selene lay there, the more she wondered what it would feel like to press her lips to his skin.
An image of lips brushing the top of her head was followed by a featherlight stirring at her temple. Selene’s breath caught in her chest.
Her heart tripped over itself and then thundered against her ribs. She shifted until she faced him, staring up into his eyes. “Did you kiss me?” she asked, her voice little more than air.
Gryph’s mouth quirked upward. “Had I really kissed you, you would know.”
ELLE JAMES, a New York Times bestselling author, started writing when her sister challenged her to write a romance novel. She has managed a full-time job and raised three wonderful children, and she and her husband have even tried ranching exotic birds (ostriches, emus and rheas). Ask her, and she’ll tell you what it’s like to go toe-to-toe with an angry three-hundred-and-fifty-pound bird! Elle loves to hear from fans at [email protected] or ellejames.com.
Possessing the Witch
Elle James
For friends and lovers who accept you for who you are, no matter your physical or social flaws.
To Cleve for inspiring my drive and ambition to succeed in this crazy world of publication and for being there when I need a swift kick in the pants to get back to work. You’re more than just a husband. You’re my cheerleader, coach and team. You love me for all my successes and my flaws and encourage me to push on. I could not have accomplished so much without your love and support.
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She glanced behind her, certain she’d heard something that sounded like a growl. When the sound did not repeat, she shrugged and pulled up the collar of her jacket to block the bite of the chilled autumn air. Now, she wished that she’d accepted an offer of a ride to the garage from her friends. At least then she wouldn’t be alone, on a dark street, jumping at every noise.
She knew better than to go anywhere alone in downtown Chicago, especially after dark.
As she entered the parking garage, she let out the breath she’d been holding and laughed. All that worry for nothing. She climbed the stairs to the second level and there, in the middle of the empty bay, stood her car, a shiny, creamy, pearl-white Audi, the heated leather seats beckoning to her.
As she dug in her purse for her keys, she heard it again. This time louder. The deep rumble of an animal’s growl sent shivers coursing down her spine.
It sounded as though it was coming from her car.
The growl burst into a roar, echoing off the concrete walls of the garage, so real and frightening she screamed and dropped her purse, keys and all, and ran back toward the stairs.
“No,” she cried, her heart in her throat, her breath catching on a sob. “No.”
Although hampered by high heels, she made it all the way to the bottom. As she turned toward the street, fifty feet away and still busy with traffic, something big and heavy
