Alphas on the Prowl Read Online Free

him as a Zorro by the wide-brimmed hat, the eye-mask/bandana that covered a good portion of his face, the black cape swirling around him, and the rapier sheathed at his side. It leant an air of mystery to what was already a relatively handsome man.
    And despite the fact that she had a serious case of raging hormones, he did nothing for her at all.
    “Oh, Pete! Is that you?” Sandra exclaimed with a flurry of hands that she threw around him. “That’s some costume you’ve got there!”
    “You don’t look so bad yourself.”
    “Pete, this is Isabella, my dearest friend. Isabella, this is Pete, who we have to thank for getting us into the party tonight.”
    “The pleasure is all mine.” Staying in character, Pete grasped one of Isabella’s gloved hands, pressed his lips to it, and then turned back to Sandra. “Care to dance?”
    Sandra giggled. “But of course. I’ll be back,” she told Isabella with a grin, before following her masked man out onto the dance floor. “Get out there and have some fun!”
    Good lord, but the woman worked quickly.
    Suddenly, a large hand was resting on Isabella’s shoulder, and she felt a sudden jolt of heat.  The stranger’s touch was almost painful, shooting instant, debilitating need through her body. She gasped in shock as her knees threatened to buckle, wondering who it was that was causing such a similar response to what she felt whenever she saw Marshall. She quickly turned to face him.
    He was tall. At least six foot one, with a built frame covered in a black waistcoat, white shirt, slacks and polished shoes. Over it all was a crimson cape with gold leaf design around the color. Of his face, she could only see firm, sculpted lips—a pasty-white mask hid the rest.
    “Phantom of the Opera,” she murmured aloud. Was she to become his Christine? She shivered at the thought of him kidnapping her and taking her down to some dark basement, where he could spread her legs and have his way with her. Another rush of liquid heat pooled between her legs, and she had to bite her lip to keep from moaning at the very thought.
    Marshall looked down at her and sucked in a deep breath as he was hit with a wave of pure, unadulterated lust. That proved to be a mistake, as her alluring scent of apples, cinnamon, and woman, only intensified his need for her. Worse, he could smell her arousal; the knowledge that her body was instinctively responding to the mating call made it hard for him to resist simply tackling her to the floor, stripping her clothes, and claiming her in front of the crowd. As it was, he knew there was no way he was going to be able to keep his hands off her tonight.
    Just forget about the idea of self-restraint.  You’re claiming her tonight.
    “Would you like to dance with me?” he asked instead, his voice nothing more than a growl that caused goose-bumps to crop up on her skin.
    He could smell her anxiety, and gave her a small smile to try to put her at ease. “Don’t worry, I don’t bite.” At least not yet. He was definitely going to have more than one taste of her when he finally got her alone. Especially of those plump, curvy mounds boosted up towards him by that sexy halter-top.
    She returned the smile with one of her own, and met her eyes with his. As she had always been looking studiously away from him whenever they’d passed each other in the hall, he’d never seen them before, and was startled to realize they were a brilliant shade of green. “I’d like that,” she said in that soft, smooth voice of hers. “I’d like that very much.”
    Isabella allowed him to take her hand, and lead her onto the dance floor, just in time for a slow song to start. He positioned one of her hands on his left shoulder, took her other hand up in his right. She shivered as his other hand came to rest on her waist, bare skin burning beneath his touch. He pulled her into him, a little roughly, but she didn’t complain.  Feeling his muscular chest pressing against her