Dark Attraction: The Corde Noire Series Read Free

still giggling.
    After tossing her phone to the kitchen counter, Sam reached for another Oreo. “With my luck, he will be the old and fat kind.”
    Sam went to her fridge. She needed milk to go with her cookies. Reaching for the carton, she wondered what it would be like if her new neighbor was sexy and available.
    Pouring her milk into a tall glass, she instantly shut down her fantasy. There was no point in daydreaming about what could never be. Sam wasn’t like Brenda; the kind men wanted. At barely five-four, she didn’t have the model figure and seductive looks. She was more like the kid sister of a friend type. Cute, funny at times, but not the kind of woman men got lost in.
    Yeah, that was what she craved … for a man to get lost in her. To know a fervid kind of passion that consumed the soul. As far as Sam was concerned, such obsession didn’t exist in real life. She saw real life every day in the ICU. It was painful, gritty, and there was nothing romantic or passionate about any of it. People were just trying to survive, and if they were lucky enough to find another to share part of their journey, it was a good thing. Sadly, most good things never lasted.
    Taking her milk back to the breakfast bar, Sam greedily ripped open the package of Oreos. Snatching up a cookie, she held it to her lips. If only they made vodka-flavored Oreos, her life would be damn near perfect.
    *     *     *
    Later that night, after she had opted to eat almost the entire package of Oreos, Sam was in bed fast asleep when an incessant banging woke her.
    “Not again,” she groaned. “Damned ghosts are always ….” She listened to the noise. It was different from the other times.  
    Sitting up, she realized the disturbance was coming from next door. It sounded less like the ethereal knocking she was used to, and more like the pounding of a hammer. Glancing at the iPhone next her bed, she saw it was well past one in the morning.
    “First ghosts, now a noisy neighbor.” Sam slammed the phone down on her bedside table.
    Staring incredulously at the wall, she figured there was no point in shouting at the new tenant to stop. This would have to be dealt with face-to-face.
    Yanking aside her covers, Sam turned on the bedside lamp. Glancing about the bedroom with its matching oak table and the second-hand dresser, purchased at a local flea market, she spotted her pink terry cloth robe on the bench at the foot of her trunk bed.
    The banging was even louder in her living room. “What in the hell is this asshole doing?”
    Once in the hallway, she left her front door open as she made the short trek to her neighbor’s door.
    With clenched fists, she knocked gently above the letter B painted in gold on his oak door. At first, she heard nothing. Then there seemed to be some commotion, as if things were being tossed around. She swore a curse word or two were uttered, and then the door flew open.
    Holy shit , she almost said out loud when she saw the man in the doorway.
    Towering over her in only a pair of faded jeans, his abs were the first thing her brain registered. Rippled, chiseled, and utterly defined, he was beyond being in good shape … he was fucking perfect. His arms were muscular, his skin was tan, his chest was wide, and she ached to run her hands over his well-proportioned pecs. However, when her gaze rose to his face, her enthusiasm fizzled.
    With arctic blue eyes and an impatient sneer on his lips, he appeared far from friendly. His wavy hair was thick and a rich shade of dark brown. He had an edgy face. Not handsome, not cute, but mesmerizing. His eyes drew her in first, then his lips, and by the time Sam was admiring his perfectly carved jaw, she was captivated.
    “Can I help you?”
    He had a bewitching voice. It was deep, hypnotic, and something like a foghorn on the river in the middle of a misty night.
    Damn it. Focus.
    “Ah, I live next door, and you woke me up.” She pointed to her open door.
    “You’re my