Almost everything about him was straight out of a gothic horror movie. He was an erotic nightmare. From his strikingly handsome face and sculpted build to his all-pupil eyes and glistening fangs, to the aura around him that made her feel like a chocolate bar in a locked cage with a starving man, he was danger incarnate. He could be the devil. It would make perfect sense. Devil or not, she wanted him to rip off her clothes and take her on the floor, right then and there, in that room. And that realization absolutely, unequivocally terrified Charlie. Chemically speaking, terror is the sudden and rapid influx of adrenaline and cortisol into one’s bloodstream. Claire St.James now had so much adrenaline and cortisol running through her veins, there was little room for anything else. There was no room in her well-honed body for emotion. No room in her instinct-reverted brain for rational thought.
