Black Magic Rose Read Free Page A

let his gaze linger as though he was trying to stare right through her, and even though she never felt threatened by him, she didn’t like it when they made eye contact.  
    She avoided his eyes as if he was Medusa, and she might turn to stone looking at him. Only she knew she wouldn’t turn to stone. She had more of a jelly sort of reaction to his gaze. Whenever she met his stare, she felt like she was falling down a deep, bottomless pool, one that left her helpless and exposed.  
    Her body did things she didn’t appreciate. Her arms turned to rubber, making her drop things. Her stomach flipped and her legs barely held her up, causing her to trip in front of him. She was not a klutz, had always been agile and graceful, played sports, took dance lessons, never had any problem controlling her limbs before. She absolutely did not like this sudden lack of poise.  
    “Well? Are you going to just stand there all night?” She glared up at him, trying to focus on his chin, but his lips drew her attention. For a quick second, the red lines parted just enough to show a sliver of white teeth, then they closed and it was as though he vanished.  
    He practically disappeared into the night, a silent shadow. If it wasn’t for his scent, she’d have sworn she was standing alone.  
    But she could smell him, a combination of leather and something woodsy, like pine or fresh air or the crisp scent of autumn. And the faintest hint of soap.  
    She inhaled. It always flummoxed her, the soap scent. What was it? Irish Spring? No. But what? She inhaled again.  
    Distracting. That’s what.
    “Well? How long are we going to stand here?” she demanded. Her bags slid down her arm.  
    “I did not want to disturb you,” he answered, his voice so low it rumbled. His scent wafted around her as he stepped closer. Her stomach knotted.  
    “Disturb me? What are you talking about?” she growled, straightening her back and realizing her bags were no longer in her hands.  
    He sniffed. Once, twice, three times. “You smelled something. Maybe Jankin is teaching you how to scent. If so, I did not want to disturb your practice.” His deep Romanian accent made the words roll together. He held her bags in front of her.  
    Sofia’s cheeks heated, and she was damn glad for the darkness. She swallowed and snatched the bags from his hands, returning them to her shoulder.  
    “What? No. I wasn’t doing whatever, scenting.” She waved her hand in front of her face and her bags slid back down her arm. “How long before you complete your task, and I can go in the house?” Her bags dangled at her wrist and she shifted them to her other shoulder.
    “My task was complete before I opened your door.” He stepped closer and she couldn’t resist the urge to look up at him, past his mouth, into his dark eyes. He rested one hand on the top of the Camry, and his body shielded hers from the cool night breeze.  
    It was happening. Her arms and legs were melting into jelly. She had to get away from him before she ended up in a puddle on the ground. “Fine.” She turned and marched up the steps, triggering the sensor that turned on the porch light. She unlocked the door and slipped inside.  
    “Just so there’s no question,” she said through a crack in the doorway. “You are not welcome in my home.” She slammed the door, locking both locks behind her.  
    It was true. A vampire couldn’t enter a personal dwelling without an invitation. She made sure every vampire, with the exception of Dr. MacDuff, knew they did not have an invitation. And even allowing Dr. MacDuff in was a huge concession.  
    Finally alone, Sofia followed her usual routine, changing her clothes, cleaning out her lunch box, and preparing dinner. She had planned to grill a steak, which meant she’d have to go outside.  
    She flicked on the deck light and stared out into the backyard. She couldn’t see him, of course. Finding him would be like plucking a single snowflake from