Sunday, January 3, 2010

Winning Virgin Promises by Destiny Blaine

Winning Virgin Promises Blurb:

Gabriel Sabbat is the secondary mate for Constance Spenser. He knows the feel of her skin, the touch of her hand, the true experience of her body. He participated in his brother's mating ceremony and didn't walk away from the event unscathed. His heart is heavy and he is in love with a woman he may take as his own but there will be sacrifices, and consequences.

Winning Virgin Promises Excerpt:

“Constance Spenser, isn’t it?”

Startled, she stared at the mortal with delicious lips. Good looking didn’t adequately define him. She’d never seen any human who tempted her so much.
“Who’s asking, handsome?” she flirted.

“May I?” he asked politely before pointing to the booth.

“Sure,” she said, folding her hands under her chin. “Why not?”

“I’m Marc Dennison.”

Constance placed her hand in his. “Constance.”

He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. “Spenser, isn’t it?

“Sabbat,” Gabriel informed from behind him as he slid on the other side of the booth and draped a possessive arm around Constance’s shoulders.

She shuddered when his hand cupped her nape. Her pulse increased and every nerve ending, tingled.

His eyes were as cold as ice. “How’s it going tonight, Marc? Having a good time?”

“Gabriel,” she whispered his name in greeting and in warning.

“Sabbat, is it?” The strange, and apparently dangerous mortal, seemed all the more interested. He winked and nodded toward her. “Your club is full of surprises.”

Gabriel sneered. “It is.”

“I see.” Amused, Marc added, “So she’s yours or Darian’s?”

“Actually, I’m—”

Gabriel, pressed his lips to hers. Hungry and dominant, he kissed her with enough of a claiming to convince someone, maybe everyone, she belonged to him. When the kiss broke, Marc chuckled.

“Constance, why don’t you go find a drink. Wait for me upstairs.”

Now she wanted to smack him. She couldn’t push him away when his mouth was on hers but after he left her feeling vulnerable, she wanted to raise a hand and let it crash against his pale flesh.

The cocktail waitress, the one with green envy written all over her face, showed up with Constance’s cocktail about the time Gabriel made the suggestion.

“Gabriel,” she said.

“Lisa, your timing always sucked, lover.”

Constance stirred her drink and thanked the whore delivering it. She fluttered her eyelashes, taunting her. “Thank you, Lisa. Gabriel suggested that I find a drink and wait upstairs, but now I won’t have to, hmmm?”

Lisa raised a brow,, thinned her lips, and walked away.

“Smart girl, Gabriel,” Constance chirped. “If she’d said one cross word to me, I would’ve insisted someone fire her.”

Gabriel concealed a grin, though barely and then turned his attention to Marc. “Waiting for Darian?”

“No, as a matter of fact, we met at another Sabbat club this morning. I’m enjoying the scenery.” He stared harder at Constance. “Some of the best in Edinburgh decorates your clubs.”

Constance leaned back. The man wanted a closer look and Gabriel didn’t earn the right to act so possessive. She dressed the part and what the hell. Why not let the guy indulge in simple pleasures.

She wore a preppy plaid short skirt with a slit up the side and a hook and tie top with the middle missing. The skirt pattern included cut-outs around her hipbone and the leather band holding the material against her hips only gave one impression. Any woman wearing such an outfit didn’t care if men looked. She played the part of naughty school girl better than most.

“What do you want, Dennison?”

“I want, Mr. Sabbat… what you have.” He returned his focus to Constance after glaring at Gabriel longer than most mortal men dared. “If you don’t mind my saying so, I believe you’re the luckiest of the Sabbat lot. You seemed to have found the Spenser gem, have you not?”

Gabriel squeezed her knee. “Constance, disappear, doll.”

Constance sipped her drink and glanced at Gabriel, who ignored her—and what a dreadful mistake— so she studied Marc Dennison, who didn’t.

“Tell you what, rather than make your woman go upstairs, I’ll make you a trade. One dance with her and I’ll leave. Then, she can enjoy her time with you and keep the patrons here using your private rooms. One look at her and I imagine those suites are on a waiting list.”

Gabriel growled and his body went rigid. “I think…”

“It’s one dance, Gabriel. Besides,” she nodded in Lisa’s direction, “You have someone to keep you entertained. She scooted around the table on her bottom and hit her hip against the mortal man. “I love this song, so I’m glad you asked. He won’t dance with me,” she purred, watching Gabriel.

His jaw tensed and a dreadful shade of dark red outlined his pupils. “Constance, this is not a good idea.”

“On the contrary,” Marc informed, placing his hand on her lower back, “It’s a great idea. I’ll bring her back to you in one piece, Sabbat. Give me a minute to enjoy her on the dance floor.”

Constance held her breath then and moved out of the way when she saw him leap from the table. Only, she sorely misjudged the situation. He bypassed the mortal and instead grabbed her wrist and led her straight out of the club.

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