ENTANGLED (26 page)

His hands closed around her. Tight. So tight. “You…agreed…you wanted the change.”

“Yes.” In the end, she had. “Because I wasn’t ready to let you go, either.” Finally, she’d take what she wanted.

Julian
.

She rose onto her toes. The power of the wolf lived inside of her now. She could feel the wildness of the beast, telling her to
take
.

Take her pleasure. Take her man.

Take the happiness that could be hers.

Take all that waited for her this Halloween night.
Take all
…

She kissed him and knew that she’d take everything he had to give.

Ava had never been afraid of the big, bad wolf. She’d been too busy falling for him.

She did love a man with bite.

Do you know someone who has fought a battle with breast cancer? I do, and I’m betting that you do, too. It takes incredible strength and determination to fight in this battle—more strength than it would take to stand up against vampires or werewolves (Ava and Julian would agree). Cancer is the real monster, and I’m hoping we find a cure soon to defeat the beast.

RITA-nominated author Cynthia Eden is a national best-selling writer of romantic suspense and paranormal romance. She has published thirteen novels and eleven novellas. Her next sexy paranormal romance series with Kensington Brava will launch in December 2011 with the release of ANGEL OF DARKNESS. More information about Cynthia Eden and her books may be found at
www.cynthiaeden.com
. Cynthia is also on Twitter at
www.twitter.com/cynthiaeden
and on Facebook at
www.facebook.com/cynthiaeden
.

At four in the morning, Chloe O’Shea unlocked the door to Sugar Mamma’s Bakery and flipped on the interior lights. She turned on the ovens, gathered her ingredients and started baking for the day.

With a giant yawn that nearly split her head in two, she started her scones, a customer favorite. Then the muffins—blueberry, banana nut, poppy seed, bran. Once she had the morning cravings in the glass case ready to go, she started on the afternoon favorites. Cupcakes, cookies, mini-tarts and other delectable goodies. During the course of the morning, she made numerous pots of coffee to keep the java-addicted crowd properly caffeinated.

People often asked her what made her bakery so special and popular. She’d smile, flip her blond hair over her shoulder and say her success was due to her grandmother’s recipes.

And her secret ingredient.

The morning customers started rolling in as soon as the doors opened at six. By eight, she had sold out of her famous blueberry muffins and orange currant scones.

That wasn’t the only thing she anticipated when the eight o’clock hour rolled around. She anticipated seeing
him
. He showed up around the same time every day. So when her door chime sounded at 8:13 a.m., her gaze flew to the door, nerves raw and heart racing.

He sauntered in with a confident gait, his highly polished boots scuffing on the scarred wooden floor. He wore a black leather jacket and a beige t-shirt that strained over his lickable pectorals. Faded denim hugged his thick thighs and a certain rounded package up front Chloe tried desperately not to stare at.

Who was she kidding? That bulge was hard to ignore.

He was tall, mysterious and devastating. He had thick wavy black hair that curled around his ears and his eyes were the brightest blue she’d ever seen. He had a cleft in his clean-shaven chin and two dimples on either side of his oh-so-kissable mouth. When he spoke, his rich voice rumbled around in a muscular chest, leaving an impression so deep on her he invaded her sleep, turning her dreams into hot, sensual ones she hated waking up from.

Today was the third day he’d come in. She’d put on her best smile for him as he approached the counter, stood in line, and then at last was in front of her looking delicious and perfect. Not a hair out of place. No five o’clock shadow. His clothes were impeccable and tidy. His fingernails clean and trimmed. His hands sculpted and muscular.

Normally, she didn’t tune into customers’ emotions. She kept her powers in check. But today, she couldn’t help herself. Today she had to feel him, test him, and see if he was even remotely attracted to her.

Tentatively, she reached out, touching him with her senses. A jolt of sexual eroticism and power zapped her so hard, synapses sizzled in her head. Chloe jerked back, blinking wildly as her eyes watered and burned.

What the hell?

She hadn’t felt a jolt like that in a long time. Uncertainty gnawed at her. Who was he? What did he want? He’d been coming here for three days and she hoped it wasn’t just for her scones. Peering at him closely, she noted he acted as though everything was situation normal. No one else in the bakery seemed to notice anything amiss either. She composed herself quickly so she wouldn’t arouse any suspicions he might have and smiled.

“What will it be today?” she asked.

He pinned her with his gaze before his eyes dropped to her mouth—she licked her lips—and then lifted back up. His mouth quirked a grin showing off those incredible dimples. Chloe was certain she could still hear the sizzle.

“No scones today?” His voice was like a deep rich baritone rumbling through her, vibrating her very soul.

Chloe shrugged. “I’m sold out.”

“Too bad.” He looked at her lips again.

Her palms broke into a heated sweat. She resisted the urge to wipe them on her jeans. “Maybe you’ll have to come back tomorrow.”

“Maybe I will.” He winked. “Since you have no scones, I’ll take a cup of coffee.”

She rang up his order, watched him fill his cup and lusted after this very cute backside, half-ignoring the customer in front of her who seemed oblivious to her drooling. She somehow managed to ring up another pastry.

Perhaps he sensed her looking at him. As he stirred creamer and sugar in his cup, he glanced over his shoulder, and gave her a wide grin. She felt the flush of heat go all the way up her body, tingling the roots of her hair. She couldn’t help but watch him saunter from the coffee station to the front door, stop and turn around.

“Did you get that? Hello?” the woman in front of her snapped.

“Oh, yes, yes. Sorry. One coffee, one blueberry muffin, and two chocolate chip cookies. Anything else?”

The man turned and headed back toward her with a purposeful stride. Her skin tingled with anticipation as she shoved the bag of goodies at the woman in front of her and all but shooed her away.

“On second thought,” he said, reaching for his wallet. “Give me a couple of those red velvet cupcakes.”

“Good choice. They’re my bestselling cupcakes.” She packaged them up in a small box, resisting the urge to add a bow. Instead, she stamped it with her signature bakery stamp—a red lip imprint with the words
Sugar Mamma’s
around them.

“Enjoy.”

“I plan to.”

Something about those three words sounded so erotic to her, the heat exploded between her legs. It took all her self control not to launch over the counter and fling herself into his arms. That night, she knew, would be filled with erotic fantasies of him.

The next morning, Chloe still enjoyed the afterglow of self satisfaction as she opened the doors to her bakery, rolled up her sleeves and got to work. Dreamy thoughts of the sexy stranger were in her head as she hummed a nameless tune and mixed up another batch of her famous red velvet cupcakes. In fact, she had downright dirty thoughts about the man…things any nice girl wouldn’t dare to think.

But then, she never was a nice girl, was she?

All she could think about was wrapping her legs around that delicious waist and thrusting against his bulge. Except in her dreams, there were no jeans to get in the way of her desire. His massive chest pressed against her, their bodies warm and slick with sweat. It was the thought of pure, raw sex that sent her over the edge.

He’s dangerous. You shouldn’t be having wet dreams about him
.

That little voice in her head niggled at her but she chose to ignore it while she enjoyed her fantasy. Still, getting zapped by him was a sign. She tried to ignore that, too, and hoped it wouldn’t come back to haunt her.

It had been nearly a year ago when she left the coven to go underground in the human realm. Had she been found? At the time, it seemed like a good idea to hide behind the bakery, thinking no one would find her here. She was a healer, after all, and they would expect to find her working in a medical profession. But here? She was incognito. That’s why when she saw the business for sale, she jumped at it.

Perhaps it was a mistake putting her small bits of magic into her cupcakes, her cookies, her scones and her muffins. Her customers loved her baked goods and why not? She poured Happiness into every batch. And lust into her red velvet cupcakes with cream cheese icing. She’d reserve this batch for lover boy, should he come back today.

What if they found you?

“Shut it.”

She scolded that persistent inner voice and turned her thoughts back to Mr. Hottie. It was time to open shop for the day. As hard as she tried, she couldn’t stave off the lusty feelings. It wouldn’t do to be turned on all day and no chance to do anything about it. She waited, hopeful with every jingle of the door chime. Alas, the sexy stranger who was the star of her wet dreams didn’t show up that morning.

Disappointed her red velvet cupcakes would go to waste, she packaged them up in a box and set them aside. Maybe she could sell them to a despondent housewife tomorrow. A woman who needed to seduce her husband and get laid. She’d have to tune into the emotions of the ladies who frequented her bakery to see if she could find a suitable customer.

Glancing at her watch, closing time neared. Only ten minutes left in the day. The no-show sexy man let all the wind out of her sails completely. There was no sense in delaying the inevitable, she thought, as she headed to the front door. Her hand was on the lock, ready to flip it when…there he was walking toward the bakery.

Her heart skipped a beat. Chloe resisted the urge to smooth back her hair. Instead she licked her suddenly parched lips. There were no other customers in the shop and she would be…all…alone…with him.

A giant knot formed in her throat. She tried to swallow around it but it wouldn’t go away. She was tempted to reach out to him again, to try and touch him with her mind but she was afraid what would happen. Last time he’d nearly fried her.

Chloe swung open the door as he walked in, a scent of musk and danger wafting in after him. Was that the acrid smell of sweat? She shook her head to clear it. She was being silly.

“Cutting it a bit close, aren’t you?” she asked, closing the door and walking behind the counter.

“I was…detained.” His gaze raked over her from head to toe, as though he could picture her naked.

Even though she wanted him to picture her naked, she couldn’t help but notice the dust on his black t-shirt or the smudge of dirt on his left cheek. The way his face looked damp. His hair stood in spikes, like he’d been raking his hand through it repeatedly. And he looked like he hadn’t shaved in three days, which seemed an odd occurrence to her. Not that she would complain. She liked her men rough and ready.

With a small smile to mask her terror, she used her sense to reach out again. She probably shouldn’t, judging by what happened yesterday, but she had to know who or what he was.

The moment she reached for him, it was like he snagged her, dragged her to him, and planted a kiss so sensual, so erotic she lost track of who and what she was. He projected an image to her, showing her all the naughty things he wanted to do to her. Most of them included her on her back, covered in cream cheese icing while he licked it off all the delicate parts of her body.

Chloe gasped, pulled away from him and stumbled backward.

“You’re a…you’re…” She couldn’t get the words out.

“A witch. Yes.” He leaned his hands on the counter and slanted toward her. “I thought you figured that out yesterday when you tried to poke me. Would you like me to prove it to you?”

The door lock clicked into place. All the blinds closed with a flourish.

“Now you’re just showing off,” Chloe snapped. Despite her bravado, fear clawed her throat. “Are you going to take me back to the coven?”

“No,” he said, matter-of-factly. “I’m going to take you in the back, strip you, and fuck you.”

“Who are you?” Her voice was stronger then, though she couldn’t mistake the quiver of her words. She didn’t want to acknowledge that it was from heightened anticipation.

“You can call me Edward.” His eyes landed on her lips again.

“That’s not your real name, is it?”

“You don’t need to know my real name.” His gaze raked over her. “Yet.”