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“No, it didn’t,” he said, his voice low and husky. “Will you tell me?”
Flaming desire singed her nerves. Her knees trembled as his lips brushed under her earlobe.
“Daffodils,” she gasped out, unconsciously pushing her heavy breasts into him.
“Hmm, I’ll remember that.”
“Spells. We need to translate the spells,” she found the strength to say and pushed him away.
He backed off without protest, his jaw tight with undiluted lust. With a jolt, she realized his irises were lined in red.
“Why are your eyes red?” she asked, her breaths coming out in shallow bursts.
His feral smile speared directly to her core. “Because I want to bend you over the table and fuck you until we both collapse.”
The crass admission uttered in his rough, husky tone sent her temperature soaring. Wetness pooled between her legs. No one had ever said anything like that to her before. The red in his eyes deepened as his nose twitched. “You want it too, Olivia. Isn’t that why you bought the dress?”
“I want to save my sister,” she said and grabbed the grimoire from the table, clinging it to her chest like a talisman. “You’re here to translate.”
“Not here.”
“What?”
“This room smells like you, like your lust.” His nostrils flared. “If we stay, we won’t be working.” His lips quirked. “At least not on translations.”
Her pulse leapt. The image of him bending her over the table flashed in her head, clear as day. It wouldn’t be so bad. Who was she kidding? It’d be mind-blowing, a life-transcending experience. She could finally sleep soundly if she’d just get him out of her system.
Focus!Grateful for her natural mental barrier, she asked, “Then what do you propose?”
“Come with me. What else do you need other than the grimoire?”
“The tablet.” Olivia had asked Tristan for one when she couldn’t open her Vegas email on Zylotech’s laptop and had used it to review the translations Marek had sent over.
“Here. I’ll carry it.”
Since she doubted he’d run off with them, she handed them over. They left her room and turned right, their feet making no sounds on the gray carpet. It hit her then that she was in Vegas, one of the world’s top tourist destinations, and this was the first time she’d left her room.
But how could she leave Betsy’s side? What if something happened while she was gone?
And how long will you put your life on hold for Betsy?
Olivia ignored the tiny, angry voice inside her. Betsy’s parents had raised and loved her, and all they’d asked on their deathbed was for her to look after their daughter.
Marek stopped at the last door and opened it, revealing a conference room that could comfortably fit a dozen people. A large, round wooden table dominated the room, surrounded by brown leather chairs. Humongous windows about her height lined one wall, showing off an amazing view of the nighttime skyline.
“This is a better working environment, don’t you think?” Marek asked, striding to the head of the table.
“Yeah. If it helps you focus.” No bedroom or couches in sight. Though she could comfortably lay down on the table.Stop. Pull yourself together. Conference tables are not sexy.
His nostrils flared as he sat, but all he said was, “It does. Now let’s get started.”
Olivia lowered herself into the chair beside his as Marek opened the book. She pulled up the document with the first twenty spells. For the first three, he’d translated the title along with a detailed paragraph description. After those, there was only the title with a succinct description.
There was no rhyme or reason or order to the spells, as if her ancestors had just written them down whenever they created one. The first twenty spells ranged from invisibility to healing livestock to changing the tide for a night. In the back of her mind, Olivia was already planning the future where she’d organize all the spells into sensible categories and add a table of content.
“I only translated the title,” Marek said, “since you’re looking for a specific spell. I figured it’s faster than translating every spell in full.”
“You’re right. I’m only looking for the life force transfer spell.”
