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“Err, well,” she stammered, seeming unsure of herself for the first time since he’d met her, “you know.” Hazel smiled nervously and shrugged.
“Yes, Hazel. Idoknow.”
She actually stopped breathing for a second. “You do?”
“Of course.” He simply could not contain the smile spreading across his mouth. She was too damn innocent for her own good -- which was really saying something considering she was in the arms of a werewolf on a Halloween evening of a blue moon. “Don’t you?”
Her brow wrinkled in the most adorable way. “Um, sexual arousal?”
He laughed then. He couldn’t help it. “Are you telling me, or asking me?”
She blinked several times before pulling back from him. “I -- I don’t understand.”
“How old are you, Hazel?” He retained his hold on her, though she was no longer pressed so intimately against his body.
“Wha --? I’m twenty-one. What’s that got to do with anything?”
Drake took a half step nearer to her, backing her up against the balcony railing. He spoke slowly and quietly, looking her directly in the eye. “Can you explain to me how a woman as incredibly sexy as you are made it to twenty-one still a virgin?”
“How did you know that?” Hazel gasped. She couldn’tbelievehe knew that! Was she that inept at kissing? Oh, God! She was! And he was making fun of her. She pushed him back, but he retained his hold on her arm.
Still grinning, Drake pulled her back into the shelter of his body. “You are absolutely delectable, do you know that?”
“No,” she retorted, “I don’t. As you sograciouslypointed out, I’m a bit out of my element.”
He chuckled. “For which I’m exceedingly grateful.”
“Look, I really don’t need you pointing out my shortcomings. I already know what they are without your help.” Jerking away from him, Hazel ducked under his arm and stormed back inside.
Jerk!
Swine!
Wereskunk!!
Of all thenerve! Hazel couldn’t believe she’d let herself get swept away by such an arrogant bastard. Nice-looking he might be, but he was a complete asshole. It wasn’t some crime to be a virgin.
Besides, she’d been studying the art of witchcraft since she was sixteen. She hadn’t had time to think about sex. Everything she’d learned, she’d learned on her own, and it had mostly been trial and error. Witches guarded their secrets very well.
Hazel headed toward the kitchen, pushing open the swinging door harder than necessary. She needed a glass of water. Hell, she needed adrink.
“Hazel? Are you okay?” Irene caught the door on its second swing back, stopping it, and approached her.
“Where’s that bottle of water?”
“In my purse. Why?”
“I’m going to try my spell.”
“Hazel, what happened? You’re shaking all over.” Irene placed a soothing hand on Hazel’s arm and petted her gently.
“Nothing.” Hazel took the bottle and rummaged through the cabinets until she found a wine glass and poured the water into it, muttering, “I just decided I don’t like handsome men.”
“Oh,” Irene said knowingly. “You and Mr. Cole didn’t hit it off?”
“Well, yes and no.”
“I’m confused.”
