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He shut down his pathway and she had to let him go. She called down to the kitchen and ordered a glass of wine.
With the bottle.
Maybe wine would relax her heart and help her get through the night without donating.
But even by the time her butler brought her the tray, she was feeling very strange. She had to release the supply she’d built or she wouldn’t live to see the morning.
As Aralynn, she and Stone had finished up more than one night in a bar, having a final beer before dawn.
She remembered one particular place where Rez had come up to them. He’d been interested in ‘Aralynn’ and had a real player’s vibe
. Now that she knew what she was, she wondered if he’d sensed on some level that she had blood rose potential.
Stone had given him a cold eye until he’d begged pardon and strolled, or maybe swaggered away.
As she recalled, the town was in the eastern part of the realm not far from the Dauphaire Mountains and Dark Gorge. The latter extended all the way into Mastyr Ian’s Realm of Camberlaune. And because she could teleport, the trip would be easy enough to make.
Fine. So Mastyr Rez would be the one she would feed tonight.
Unwanted desire, however, began to curl everywhere as she thought about him. She’d seen him at least three times through the past several weeks and he’d always looked at her as though he liked what he saw. She’d liked looking at him, too. His wavy brown hair, complete with sexy blond highlights, was at shoulder length and he had gorgeous blue eyes, a dimple in his chin. He had a scruff, too, that made him look dangerous and he never lacked for female attention.
She summoned her maids again and had them tear the braids apart. She’d wear Aralynn’s jeans. Maybe she’d go as Aralynn.
But she dismissed that idea right away. She was done hiding behind her wolf-self. She was Rosamunde, she was a blood rose and she could ease Rez’s suffering tonight, as in right now. As a mastyr, Rez suffered from the crippling pain like the rest of his kind.
As soon as her hair was back in its loose, frizzy mass, she told her maids she’d be in seclusion for the night meditating. This had been her cover for weeks so not a single one of them expressed surprise.
As soon as she locked the door from within, she teleported straight to the interior of Aralynn’s cottage. She rooted around in her dresser and found a sparkly, low-cut purple tank top that she knew Rez would like. Sliding it on, she could see that ‘Rosamunde’s’ bigger breasts created an erotic four-inch line of cleavage. Sweet!
Next, she hunted for Aralynn’s tightest jeans. Finding them, she loved the way they showed off her beautiful ass and her oh-so-long legs.
She was set to go, except for her hair and make-up. She wanted to do something different with her red frizz. She created two braids that ran down the sides of her face and tied them together in the back to weigh her hair down.
She then went to work on her make-up. As Aralynn, she enjoyed mixing it up.
But this time, as Rosamunde, she didn’t hold back. She loaded her eyelids with dark purple shadow, deepened the red of her brows to a beautiful brown, and put on a dark shade of purplish-red lipstick.
She had only one thing to add. She climbed into a pair of black stilettos, with rhinestones down the back of each spike and damn if she didn’t look good. She hardly even recognized herself. Maybe this is the woman she would have been if duty hadn’t stuck her in a castle for a thousand years.
The world of a queen was highly overrated.
With her sights set, she teleported to the town of Millerell to an alley across the street from the Wild Boar, a bar catering to tough types. She stayed in the shadows gaining her bearings. Several Harleys were lined up outside. She was pretty sure Rez rode one. Stone did as well, that is, when he wasn’t battling the Invictus.
She quickly set thoughts of Stone aside. She had a job to get done, so, Rez it was.
Desire once more curled around several inappropriate places.
She wanted a ride all right, but not on a motorcycle.
Was this really her?
Just as she was about to step out of the shadows, another Harley arrived with the signature tall handlebars.
She drew in a quick breath.
Rez.
As he backed in his bike, then straddled it standing up, he lifted his nose into the air. He wore a black t-shirt with the sleeves cut off to better display his guns. And what freaking hot guns they were. He might not be as tall or as built as Stone, but he looked damn good.
