Page 22 of The Hunter’s Affection

Charlotte’s stomach clenched in anticipation of his kiss as her heart thudded damn near out of her chest.

“Charlotte.”

His voice was as sensual a caress as his fingers.

She would have answered if such a thing were possible.

“The song is over.”

Not the romantic words she’d been expecting.

Romantic?

This was Torr freaking Derrickson.

She didn’t want, or need, romantic from a guy who had probably already dated half of Stone Haven.

Turning around to face him, Charlotte knew immediately she had lied to herself. Because right now, the idea of kissing this cocky Scotsman overrode every single reason she had for staying away from him.

“Yes. It is.”

Another song started, but the spell had been broken. Reality had come pouring in.

“I need a drink,” she said, meaning it, despite the fact she’d already downed three of them. Striding to the bar, Charlotte ordered another Death in the Afternoon, her last one, and tried to regain some semblance of composure.

* * *

“Car’s gone,”Torr said as they drove by the spot where he’d first found her earlier that evening.

Back when he’d thought Charlotte more than a little uptight.

Back when his brother’s say-so had been enough to keep him from making a move on the undeniably delectable Charlotte Harris.

All that had changed. He’d nearly come on the dance floor from the feel of her fully clothed body cradled against him. He savored those brief moments of lowered inhibition he’d glimpsed before the curtains had closed on a window he’d not even thought to look through.

“Mmmm,” she murmured, sliding lower in her seat.

Drunk? She should be, but there wasn’t even a hint of slur in her speech. They’d likely still be at Stage West if Torr hadn’t suggested it was time to leave.

She’d been having a good time.

Torr knew that because she’d leaned in close, drink in hand, and whispered it to him as if it were some anciently held secret. “I’m having fun.”

He’d silently agreed.

If not drunk, Charlotte was definitely tired. When he glanced over at her again, her eyes were closed. What was she thinking? Did she already regret letting loose? If not yet, there would always be tomorrow for that.

Torr had long ago given up on the idea of regret.

Mostly. With the exception of those he killed when he’d been more monster than man.

“Luckily, I don’t really need the car,” she murmured. “Ugh.”

Torr smiled into the darkness, thinking how very un-Charlotte-like that sounded.

“Not until the senator,” she murmured

Letting out an exaggerated sigh, Charlotte opened her eyes and sat up.