Kiss of Venom Read Free Page A

T-shirt was so tight it looked like it would rip down the center if he drew in too deep a breath. His dirty-blond hair was spiked up over his forehead, then smoothed back and down over the rest of his skull. His tan skin made his pale eyes seem that much lighter, and his white teeth gleamed in the semidarkness of the club. Most women would have thought him attractive. In fact, I saw more than one give him an appraising look. I snorted. Pretty boy. Probably couldn’t take a punch in the face for fear of ruining his perfect smile.
    He leaned down and said something to Gin. Instead of shooing him away, she actually smiled up at him, as though he’d amused her. He gestured at the dance floor. My gut twisted and my hand flattened out against the tabletop. After a moment, Gin shook her head.
    He said something else and gestured at the dance floor again, obviously thinking that he could win her over if only he tried hard enough. My fingers started tapping out a quick pattern, but Gin shook her head again.
    He kept talking, obviously not wanting to take no for an answer. My fingers stilled, then curled into a tight fist.
    Apparently, Gin no longer found him amusing. She gave him a cold, flat look and started to say something, but Bria pulled her gold detective’s badge off her belt and flashed it at the guy. That was finally enough to get him to back off. He gave them both a sour look before storming off into the crowd.
    “Somebody should punch that jackass in the face for bothering her,” I muttered.
    Phillip chuckled. “You know what? I think that jealousy suits you.”
    I turned my glare to him. “Maybe I should punch you in the face too.”
    He kept right on laughing.
    Apparently, every other man in the club saw the giant strike out with Gin and decided to try his luck, because it was like the proverbial floodgates opened. One after another, the preening peacocks—emphasis on cocks —separated themselves from the flock, walked over, and started hitting on her. Soon I couldn’t even see Gin through the cluster of the men.
    Still, I kept shooting glances in that direction. I couldn’t help myself, just like I hadn’t been able to stop staring at Gin at the Briartop museum when I’d first noticed her in the rotunda. Gin probably thought that I’d come over to her because I’d mistaken her for someone else, but I could never do that. I’d know her anywhere. She’d looked so beautiful that night, her blood-red gown rippling out around her, her dark brown hair loose and slightly wavy, the skin of her arms and shoulders looking as smooth and flawless as marble.
    But Gin had never looked so wonderful as at the moment she’d burst into the museum’s vault area and I’d realized she was still alive, ending the utter agony of thinking she had been murdered by Clementine and her men. Gin had been dirty, sweaty, and covered with giants’ blood, but I hadn’t cared. I’d grabbed her and kissed her, and I’d wanted to keep on kissing her forever—
    The music stopped again for a moment, and the crowd quieted down enough for me to hear a soft, low laugh, Gin’s laugh. Something else that I would have known anywhere. She actually found one of the peacocks funny. I couldn’t see who it was, but she laughed again. What was he? A comedian?
    Her laugh drifted over to me a third time, and I grabbed my glass and threw back the gin. But the slow, steady burn of the liquor in the pit of my stomach couldn’t ease the sharp, stinging ache in my chest. Because that should have been me at the bar with her. I should have been the one making her laugh tonight. Not some random stranger.
    I would have been that man, if not for my own stupidity. And that’s what hurt and angered me more than anything else.
    Gin laughed yet again, the sound punching into my gut. And I knew that I had to get out of here before I did something extremely stupid, like marching over to the bar and punching out every single guy who was ogling her.
    “I need