Kiss of Crimson by Samantha Coville (best love story novels in english txt) 📕

and shoulders than me, which meant that the suit was most likely meant for me.

Exactly how long had he planned this?

I almost felt sorry for Madame Leona. If Jardin should ever try to step into her territory with intent and nothing else, there would be precious little left of her hastily put together kingdom.

As I approached Lady Yeats, her gaze had connected with mine.

The smile faded from her lips and she turned quickly to whisper into the Italian Suit’s ear.

He glanced at me and then gently steered the woman in sea-foam green away, giving me one last glance over his slight shoulders.

He thought he was doing something innocent, giving two lonely individuals some privacy.

He never knew just how much I appreciated his gesture of thoughtfulness, and I wondered if he’d ever find out why I chose to approach Tabitha Yeats.

Surely his thoughts would not be so charitable, then.

By the time I reached Tabitha, her companions had vanished into the crush and Tabitha herself had arranged herself beautifully upon a divan next to an open window, from which the heavy, redolent scent of roses and lilies filtered from the nearby expansive garden.

This close to her, she was even more alluring, and I found myself relieved that my show of attraction to her didn’t require any artifice as I took the place next to her.

Her floral perfume was thick, almost cloying, which was unfortunate, but I had faced more difficult tribulations as I conversed with her easily with my mouth hanging open for the most part.

She was a talented conversationalist, easy to converse with, and I estimated her age to be around two hundred years old, as she told me of her childhood in the Antebellum South.

She laughed softly, the back of a slim, pale hand held over her mouth. “I was common as dirt. My father was so poor and he and my mother worked alongside the slaves in the cotton and tobacco plantations in South Carolina.” She slid me a sly glance from underneath artfully darkened lashes. “I suppose most folks would never admit to such a travesty.”

“And I admire you more for your honesty,” I said.

“Oh, pish-posh.” She waved a hand in the air, even though I thought it obvious that my words had pleased her. “I didn’t tell you that to gain some kind of advantage. Even though, something tells me that I really ought to fight.”

“Fight?” I asked, even though I knew exactly what she was referring to.

Even so, she was older than I was, and the longer I spent with her, the more I realized that she was attracted to those younger than herself. She had been turned at the cusp of her thirty years while I had been turned in my early twenties.

“Yes.” She reached forward and put a hand on my knee.

Her fingers tightened, nails digging through the thin fabric of the trousers.

My body tightened in anticipation of feeling those nails against bare skin very soon, hopefully.

“Don’t be coy. It doesn’t suit someone like you. Surely you’d had more than your fair share of, ah, women?”

Taking heed of Jardin’s words, I put a hand over hers and leaned towards her, my mouth a scant inch away from hers.

It pleased me to find that her breathing was fast, erratic.

Good.

“Girls, perhaps,” I whispered, injecting amusement into my voice. “But women? I’m afraid not. At least... not yet.”

The question and the subsequent promise didn’t need to be uttered.

And yet... I could not afford to indulge. Not just yet.

Work, then play, as my damned Papa used to say right before he spent the day chasing empty bottles rolling around on the wooden floors of our shack in the middle of the bayou.

“What brings you to Madame Leona’s soiree? Are you two close?” I injected a note of laissez-faire into my voice. Not particularly difficult, as I had found it something of a talent of mine to lie between my teeth and be damnably good at it.

Genetics, no doubt.

She pouted, her hand slowly drifting up my knee toward my thigh. “Oh come now, surely there are other, more interesting things to talk about than my association with Leona, don’t you think?”

“Such as this.” She leaned forward, and I couldn’t suppress the shiver that racked my spine as her tongue lapped against my earlobe. “What do you say we get out of here? I’ve got a place not too far from here.”

Well, matters had come rapidly to a head, and I had no idea whether I had succeeded or failed.

Should I stay or go?

I tried to test her once more. “Are you sure Madame Leona wouldn’t take offense at you leaving so early?”

She drew back enough, her light brows furrowed in confusion. “Why should Leona care whether I stay or go?”

Now, it was my turn to show confusion, albeit mine was utterly feigned. “I was under the impression you two were close.”

Her befuddlement deepened as she drew away, her hand retreating from my leg. “Forgive me, but I have never once said such a thing.” Her mouth drew down at the corners, turning her beauty into something a little more skeletal, a little less pure. “Surely you aren’t trying to pump me for some kind of “in” into Leona’s good graces.”

Damnation.

“Not at all,” I said, smiling tentatively. “It is merely that... well, I’ve heard rumors that you are so close to Leona that it is hard for any man to approach you.”

Her eyes narrowed at my less-than-glib lie. “Is that so?”

“Indeed, madam. Why, I would--” My voice trailed away as I realized that she was peering over my shoulder, the bones in her face in stark relief as her lips peeled away from her teeth in a nasty grimace. “La—Lady Yeats?”

“I really don’t know why she does it.” Her voice was laden with anger as she crossed her arms, almost shoving that magnificent bosom practically under her pertly turned nose. “That man is a jackal in expensive suits and one of these days, she is going to regret ever being