Were-Devils' Revenge [Were-Devils of Tasmania 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Read Free Page B

He brought them into dock ahead of schedule.
    Gabriella served up the oysters and, to her surprise, found Mitch by her side, uncorking wine and serving with expertise.
    “I didn’t see sommelier on the resume,” she said lightly as they went down into the galley.
    “There’s a lot more that can’t be put on paper,” said Mitch into her ear.
    Shit . Gabriella felt her knees almost buckle. She had clearly been too long without a man. She turned to the glasses and started rinsing them, careful not to look at Mitch.
    “Are you guys planning on sticking around for long?” she asked.
    “All depends.”
    “Depends on what exactly?”
    Mitch put more dirty glasses and plates on the sink. “If we find what we’re looking for.”
    Gabriella looked up quickly. We. This wasn’t a pick-up line. What did he mean?
    Mitch seemed to understand his mistake. “Though I’m a lot easier to please than Mac,” he said with a grin. “Or rather I have my eyes on the hottest woman around, so he’ll have to make do with second best.”
    “Just keep your eyes on the job,” said Gabriella, keeping her voice steady.
    The kitchen was cramped, and when she turned to look for a dishcloth, Mitch was in the way and showing no inclination to move. She was five foot two in heels, and he towered over her. Right now he was enjoying her cleavage.
    “I’m your boss,” she said curtly.
    “Great,” said Mitch. “Then this can’t be sexual harassment.”
    Gabriella glared at him. He laughed and stepped back, hands in the air. “Okay, it’s good. I’ll wait to be invited.”
    “Then you’ll be waiting awhile,” said Gabriella, thinking that inviting him to kiss her sounded a delicious option.
    After sorting out dinner, they went up on deck. The evening was cooling, with a gentle breeze taking the edge off the earlier heat. All the guests were on the beach, though the plump girl was eyeing Mitch from a distance.
    “Have you always lived here?” asked Mitch easily as he leant over the boat’s side and looked deeper into the forest beyond.
    “All my life,” said Gabriella. “My grandparents moved here when my mother was a baby. My father’s family came after the war from Italy.”
    “No plans to move?”
    “None any time soon,” said Gabriella. “Where are you boys from?”
    “South,” said Mitch. He watched the trees rustling and stiffened. There was a good deal of squawking as the fruit bats started to move.
    “It’s just the bats,” said Gabriella with a laugh. “We have thousands of them. I’m not sure where they go each night, but I pity anyone with an orchard.”
    Mitch seemed to suddenly lose interest. “Looks like they’re heading back,” he said as the plump girl started walking toward the boat. “Shall we get dinner?”
     
    * * * *
     
    Launceston, Tasmania, Australia, 1939
     
    “Angie, can you keep a secret?”
    How often had Angel Karlssen heard this? Though the younger sister, she often felt that she was the parent. Larissa was at best irresponsible. At worst, Angel didn’t want to think about. This latest request came when she was already holding more of Larissa’s secrets than she liked, and it worried her. She sensed her normally calm sister was agitated which worried her even more.
    “I’m pregnant.”
    Oh bugger. This was much worse than Angel could have dreamt up. At seventeen she was the one who had had a steady boyfriend for a year. Her family wasn’t exactly enamored of him, but they tolerated him. Human was better than what Larissa’s lover was, and no one except Angel knew that Larissa was seeing anyone.
    “Does Edmund know?” Angel wasn’t sure how she’d managed to get the words out.
    “Not yet.” There was a dreamy quality to Larissa that was almost as worrying as the news she had. How could the same family turn out someone as vague and romantic as Larissa and the practical Charles and Adam? Even Angel, for all of her reading and wondering, had a practical streak that seemed to