A Job From Hell (Ancient Legends #1)

racing, hammering against her chest. Ever so slowly
I lowered my lips and brushed hers, then pressed a little tighter. Her mouth
opened under my gentle pressure and she wrapped her arms around my neck. Heat
rushed through my body, the sensation new and frightening at the same time. My
thumb brushed down her neck where the blood pumped the hardest, calling to me.
My lips followed the trail, barely touching her skin. Her pulse thumped against
my lips. Hunger stirred inside me. I needed to get out of here, and fast,
before I couldn’t control my need to feed.
    It took me all my might to peel my lips off
hers. Amber protested, but I could see panic in her eyes, the sudden realization
of what just happened sinking in.
    “Sleep well,” I whispered. My voice sounded
hoarse. In two long strides I was out the door, hurrying to get away from her
before I lost all reasoning and bore my fangs into her delicate skin.

Chapter 10

 
    I sat up with a jolt and watched Aidan
close the door behind him. The last thing I remembered was sitting in his car
and a sense of peace washing over me, and then Aidan leaning over me on the bed,
our lips locked in the best kiss of my life.
    I jumped up and rubbed my eyes to get rid
of that unnerving floating. My phone vibrated in my handbag. Fishing through
tissues, various makeup items and what else not, I retrieved it and pushed the
green button to switch on the screen. A message popped up, and my heart skipped
a beat, but not with pleasure. Guilt surged within me as I started to read.
    Hey
babe. Missed U so much. Whatcha say to nice dinner.
Just U & I.
    Groaning, I dropped back on the bed.
Cameron had said he needed months to think. Why did he have to text me today of
all days, less than four weeks after our break-up? It wasn’t fair, not now when
I had no idea what was happening between Aidan and me.
    I rubbed my forehead, unsure what to do,
when I remembered Rebecca’s clothes were still hanging in the closet. Nothing
was going on between us because Aidan still cared about his ex. To text Cameron
back, I’d have to go to the laundry room. It was after four in the morning. Cameron
had sent the message shortly after midnight. As much as I hated to keep him
waiting, I couldn’t bring myself to walk down to the basement now. I might
freeze my feet off. Besides, Aidan could still be lurking around. I felt the tell
tale heat rise to my cheeks, and touched my fingers to my swollen lips, his
caress still vivid yet mortifying in my mind.
    Should I tell Cameron? He may not be the
jealous type, but I couldn’t risk him changing his mind about us yet again.
After taking a quick shower, I put on a fresh pair of flannel PJs and cuddled
beneath the covers. Ignoring the sudden sense of being watched, I focused on my
plans and the future with Cameron—a dinner that’d turn into a romantic declaration
of love, Cameron realizing that what we shared was special, moving in together and
finally meeting his parents. The pictures I conjured in my mind seemed hazy and
forced, unrealistic, making me feel like a little girl hanging on to her favorite
fairy tale because she couldn’t let go of the one guy that didn’t love her back
enough. While Cameron was polite, educated and pretentious, Aidan made me feel
alive. Who was the better choice? Oh,
darn it. Sighing, I started counting in my head until I drifted off to
sleep, wondering why I’d never noticed how scrawny Cameron seemed compared to my
new boss.

 
    It was past ten when I woke up. I’d
overslept again, the second time in six working days. I jumped out of bed,
dressing with one hand and brushing my teeth with the other. Downstairs, the
usual silence greeted me. I breathed out, relieved that no one was about. I
could only hope Aidan hadn’t installed some sort of nanny cam to watch my every
move. Remembering Dallas’s words in the woods, I smiled. Paranoid. Yep. And
silly for kissing my boss a week into the job. So much for keeping my job and
private life separate.
    Humming to myself, I grabbed a dusting
cloth and went about cleaning, starting with the living room and shifting from
one huge space to another like a robot. What a dreary job, the worst I’d ever
done. Maybe not the worst, but not a glamorous one either.
    By the time a car parked in the driveway an
hour later, I had skipped the chandeliers—no way would I be able to reach
the ceiling—and most of the paintings on the walls—really, who
dusts those on a daily basis—and was