Tempt Me
Page 1
Table of Contents
Epigraph
Title Page
Copyright Page
Acknowledgements
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Heat titles by R. G. Alexander
“Clever and unique world building . . . R. G. Alexander is an author who can write the heck out of a book.”
—Lauren Dane, national bestselling author of Never Enough
PRAISE FOR
Three Sinful Wishes
“Three Sinful Wishes made me laugh, made me cry, made me reach for the nearest fan—the perfect erotic romance!”
—Eve Berlin, author of Desire’s Edge
“It is rare to find an author who draws you into sensual new worlds with characters who tug at your heartstrings. R. G. Alexander offers up paranormal romance at its finest!”
—Crystal Jordan, author of Embrace the Night
Possess Me
“Lush and sensual. Pure magic!”
—Eden Bradley
“You will be fascinated by the spellbinding and magical imagination of author R. G. Alexander.”
—The Romance Studio
“Sultry days in the Big Easy get a lot steamier with three novellas wrapped around the legend of a voodoo spirit who can fulfill every darkest fantasy. All of these dovetailing stories are fun, hot, and romantic.”
—RT Book Reviews
“Possess Me is a hot and sexy read that took me to places I didn’t know I wanted to go . . . R. G. Alexander is an author I love to read and Possess Me is no different. I am enraptured by her world and her characters and wouldn’t mind seeing more of her New Orleans.”
—Joyfully Reviewed
“This erotic novel was smoking hot—a perfect summer read set in my favorite city, New Orleans . . . I honestly couldn’t put this book down. It was wonderful to read something so delightfully different and deliciously magical. Sensual, seductive, and filled with sexy—if you like paranormal erotica, this book’s for you.”
—Fangtastic Books (4.5 fangs)
“As this was my first time reading R. G. Alexander, I am happy to report I look forward to more of her work in the future!”
—Night Owl Reviews
“Possess Me is erotic with a capital O. And so sweet and vivid! Steamy sex and true emotion? So rare. So lovely. So addictive!... I haven’t been this enamored of a book since I began Kresley Cole’s Immortals After Dark series. You can be assured I’ll be stocking up with R. G. Alexander’s backlist and rereading Possess Me anytime I need a little heat to keep me warm at night.”
—Bitten by Books
“Possess Me . . . takes you on a sultry trip, laced with mystical and otherworldly touches, through the heart of New Orleans. I’ve long been a fan of R. G. Alexander’s work . . . [and she] brings her brilliant storytelling and her knack for the wickedly sexy to the table.”
—Romance Junkies
Heat titles by R. G. Alexander
POSSESS ME
THREE SINFUL WISHES
TEMPT ME
THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP
Published by the Penguin Group
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Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
This book is an original publication of The Berkley Publishing Group.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
Copyright © 2011 by R. G. Alexander.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
HEAT and the HEAT design are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
PRINTING HISTORY
Heat trade paperback edition / November 2011
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Alexander, R. G., (date)-
Tempt me / R. G. Alexander.—Heat trade paperback ed. p. cm.
ISBN : 978-1-101-54573-7
1. Twins—Fiction. 2. Reconciliation—Fiction. 3. Loa (Spirits)—Fiction. 4. Voodooism—Fiction.
5. New Orleans (La.)—Fiction. I. Title.
PS3601.L3545T46 2011
813’.6—dc22
2011028160
http://us.penguingroup.com
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
For Cookie: Love is the reason. To the best agent in the known universe, Roberta, and my amazing editor, Kate, who both believed in me and the world Bone Daddy made enough that they let me return to play in it. To my Smutketeers, my dearest friends, the glorious Eden Bradley and Robin L. Rotham, for their red pens and hand holding. To the talented Bryan W. for having mad RPG knowledge and giving me a name to fit Gabriel’s ability. A huge and heartfelt dedication to the real Ive and Kelly ... yes, you ... for being fantastic and for campaigning so enthusiastically for a Bone Daddy Hunt that you became my inspiration.
Finally, again and always, to New Orleans, Louisiana—you are so much more than just a party girl throwing beads. The more I know you, the deeper in love I fall.
CHAPTER 1
“CARE FOR ANOTHER, ANGEL?”
Gabriel nodded at the bartender, ignoring the blatant invitation in her eyes.
Angel. His smile was rich with self-mockery. If he’d ever been one, he’d fallen long ago.
The sexy blonde turned to refill his glass with amber ale, and the sight of his own reflection in the beveled mirrors made him wince. It had been a while since he’d seen himself. Too long, apparently. The first description that sprang to mind when he did was pathetic drunk.
Was this who he really was, then? Gabriel Toussaint Giodarno—just another lost soul?
Whoever it was he was glaring at needed a shave. Rough shadows framed a sharp jaw, accentuating cheeks that had hollowed out in the last year. A diet of beer, scotch, and shame would do that to a man.
His dark hair curled around his ears and along the nape of his neck—the first time he’d let it grow out since he was sent to Catholic school at the tender age of nine. His heavy-lidded green eyes were bleary with exhaustion, and—his gaze narrowed—
the skin above his left cheek was still tinged with yellow and blue from his encounter with that angry biker last week in a Tupelo bar.
Nearly all traces of his old reflection were gone. He was gone.
“You look like hell, Gabe. As usual.”
Shit. He knew he was drunk, but he hadn’t realized he’d had enough to start hallucinating again. He pushed his beer away and tapped on the glossy wooden counter. “Any coffee in this place?” Or, even better, some holy water?
The man beside him sighed. “I was hoping you’d head to Mambo Toussaint’s or Michelle’s instead of the nearest tavern. Why you keep gravitating to these shadow-filled places, I’ll never know.”
“Look, guy, I told you—those shadows aren’t real,” Gabriel muttered, keeping his eyes straight ahead and his voice down so the bartender wouldn’t think he’d gone off the deep end. “You aren’t real. Not a man. Not a ghost. Remember? I don’t do that particular parlor trick. All the woo-woo genes went to my sister. You’re just a figment of my imagination.”
He lowered his head tiredly and shoved his hands through his hair. “Shit, why couldn’t my broken brain concoct a hot, breathy blonde to follow me around instead of a chatty, grungy man-child like you?” He sent said man-child a sideways glance. “I did what you wanted. I’m in New Orleans. Nothing has changed. Now, run along, shut the hell up, and leave me in peace.”
He looked up and noticed the bartender was watching him and no longer smiling suggestively. She slid a cup of coffee in his direction, the suspicious look in her eyes clearly retracting any invitation they might have issued earlier. Then she hurried toward the other end of the bar and the safety of her regular customers.
Gabriel smirked. He’d run, too, if he could. Hell, he’d tried. But he couldn’t escape the guilt that had kept him up nights, the inner demons stalking him. He’d even started seeing shadows where there should be none. Watching those shadows notice him. Follow him. Press on his heavy heart and twist his thoughts until there were only three avenues of escape: fighting, fucking, or getting blackout-drunk. Sometimes it took all three for him to feel human again. To regain control.
Four months ago the game had changed, and his mind brought out the big guns. His new buddy here. His walking, talking, invisible conscience. There could be no doubt now that he had truly gone around the bend.
Gabriel grimaced at the first rich taste of chicory, and glanced at his imaginary friend. He had no idea where he’d dreamed this guy up. A man in his twenties, with black hair that fell to his shoulders and blue eyes that were startling, framed by dark brows and a swarthy complexion. He wore a long dark trench coat, dirty khaki pants, and torn-up boots, looking like one of those disaffected adolescents Gabriel had silently scorned. Back when he’d been a globe-trotting, self-important businessman.
Had it been only a year ago that employees of his father’s investment firm had cowered in fear before him? That Gabriel had taken pride in being known as the Dark Messenger, the smiling bearer of bad news and pink slips? What an evil jackass he’d been.
Maybe he was finally getting what he deserved.
“I can practically feel that self-pity you’re wrapping yourself up in, Gabe. You’re more stubborn than your sister, and that’s saying something. Honestly, I have no idea why I got stuck with you.”
He’d gotten stuck? Ha. “I apologize for inconveniencing you. Even my hallucinations can’t stand me. There’s a certain poetry to that, don’t you think?”
“I’m not a hallucination, idiot. I’m real, with a name and everything. But you haven’t asked my name, have you? You haven’t asked about me, about the shadows—nothing. You need to stop fucking around, Gabe.” The young man pounded on the bar in frustration. “I never swore before I met you, though I don’t think the Virgin Mother herself would blame me. You came back here for a reason. You need to find out what you are. You need to see your family. Tell your mother what’s been happening to you.”
Not who he was. What he was. Gabriel already knew what he wasn’t. He was no angel. No bon ange, like his twin sister, who could see spirits. The one who had risked her soul for him, despite what he’d done to her. He was no loving son or loyal friend. And even though it felt like it right now, he was no ghost.
He wasn’t sure about anything anymore, not even why he’d come back to New Orleans again. Other than to shut his invisible stalker up. The one no one else saw. The one who could so conveniently appear and disappear at will.
If only Gabriel could disappear that easily, along with the memory of what he’d done—what he’d almost done—to Mimi. Michelle. His sister.
Djab. That was the name his mother had called the thing that had taken over his body last year. A dark entity, sometimes controlled by voodoo sorcerers she named bokors. Djab were wild spirits that, when left to their own devices, could wreak havoc on weaker humans.
Weak. That wasn’t a word Gabriel had ever associated with himself until it happened. How easily it had taken him over. He’d been angry at the awkward reunion with his mother, and when Michelle had shown up, injured and so distant, he’d blamed her. In his anger, he’d wished she’d been the one the priests had beaten, the one who’d been ripped from their mother and told everything she knew, everything she loved, was no longer hers. His need for vengeance had made him the perfect target.
Gabriel took a deep drink, the hot coffee scalding his tongue, his knuckles white around the porcelain mug. As if it were yesterday, he could recall the feeling of being trapped in his own mind, of screaming and shouting in disbelief as something else took over his body.
His hands tying up his sister. His mouth speaking words so offensive to his soul that he wished he could claw them out with his bare hands.
How could she ever forgive him for that? How could he forgive himself? He shook his head, coming back to the conversation. “I know what I am. And they are all better off without me. You can add delusional to the list of reasons why.”
“That does it.”
Gabriel nearly slid off his stool when the bartender appeared across from him once more and purred appreciatively, “Didn’t see you come in, lover. What can I get for you?”
He blinked. Déjà vu. “What? Are you talking to me?”
She rolled her eyes. “Of course not, silly; you’ve been here for hours. And I’m really glad you decided to have that coffee, by the way.” Then she looked over Gabriel’s shoulder and batted her eyelashes. “I’m talking to your cute young friend.”
He followed her gaze, then turned back to the bartender. “Who do you see behind me?” When she hesitated, Gabriel leaned closer. “It’s important. Describe him.”
She tilted her head, her blonde ponytail swinging softly behind her. “O-kay, I’ll play. I see a sexy slice of cheesecake with dark hair and stunning blue eyes.” Her own eyes widened. “And he blushes? Oh, baby, what’s your name, what’s your sign, and where have you been all my life?”
Black spots and stars blurred Gabriel’s view as he glanced back at the blushing figment behind him. The figment someone else had just described. She saw him?
He heard the bartender’s worried voice as if she were speaking through static. “Oh, damn. Listen, lover, if your friend is about to throw up or something, get him outta here. I’m the only one on tonight and I refuse to clean that up.”
Gabriel felt hands hoist him up as if he were weightless and drag him toward the back door that led to a narrow alley.
He pushed away and fell to his knees, retching. He leaned his head against the rough wall, a rasping laugh escaping his raw throat. “So this is what rock bottom looks like. I always wondered.”
“Congratulations, Gabe. As usual, you set a goal and you reached it. Your father would be so proud.”
Gabriel pulled himself up once more and turned, rage suddenly welling up inside him. “You don’t know shit about my father. But I just set another goal. If other people can see you, that means you’re real. And if you’re real, I can kick your ass.”
He believed . . . even when Mimi could see him? “Who the fuck are you?”
His illusion’s hands rose up to the sky, as if in prayer. “Hallelujah. I think he’s finally waking up.” Unearthly blue eyes pierced him with their solemn expression. “The name is Emmanuel.”
Gabriel scoffed, but he felt the name like a kick in the chest, making it hard to breathe. “Emmanuel was a child. A ghost child. I told you my sister has that gift, not me. But even I know ghosts don’t age.”
Emmanuel nodded. “You’re right. That isn’t your gift.” He shrugged. “But all the same, I am Emmanuel. How else would I know you cracked your tooth when you fell chasing after Ben and your sister in the back of my old house? The same day you told your father you were playing with spirits for the first time.”
Gabriel remembered. How could he forget? That was the day everything had started going to shit.
“If you’re Emmanuel, and I can’t see ghosts, then how can I see you?”
The younger man was suddenly right beside him, so close he could feel his breath. His expression was tinged with pain and regret. They were emotions Gabriel knew well. “You can see me, Gabriel, because I am not a ghost. I’m no longer anything I was. And neither are you. But I’ve faced more than a few of my monsters. It’s time for you to face yours. You need to understand what’s happening to you, before you lose yourself completely to the darkness.”