Read Guarding Grayson for Free Online

the supper from the cafe and set it on the little Formica table under the window, then grabbed a couple of plates and forks from the cupboards, and set them out as well.
    As he opened the containers, the fragrance of good Mexican cooking wafted out. The plump enchiladas were swimming in red sauce, a mound of rice and chicken to one side. He shoved the container toward Brynne and opened the salad, which looked fresh and green. "Here, eat."
    She looked from him to the supper, and swallowed, her throat working above his shirt. "Okay, Gray-son."
    She leaned over the enchiladas and opened her mouth. Gray moved in instinctive protest, only for the words to freeze in his throat ... as a big bite of enchilada floated up out of the container and through her parted lips.
    She closed her mouth, chewed, and her eyes widened. "Mm-mm," she said in approval. Another, even bigger bite floated up toward her mouth.
    Gray sat frozen, watching, as she steadily consumed half the contents of the container. Definitely peyote in his beer—had to be. Because otherwise, he was the crazy one here. This kind of stuff did not happen .
    She eyed the second half of the supper, licked a stray bit of sauce from her lower lip and looked up at him. "This is very ... satisfying. Why do you not share it? You have already consumed your daily ration?"
    "Ahh ..." he managed, any coherent speech frozen in his brain. "N-wha  ..."
    Brynne looked from his face to the container, to the table with plates and utensils. "This is not how you consume nutrition," she said, her voice quieter. "Oh. Pardon me for startling you, Gray-son. I will study your human nutritive habits and learn an alternate practice."
    She closed her eyes, and Gray eased his chair away from the table, ready to move for the back door. Only to see Brynne's eyes open, her blue gaze fixing him in place.
    "I comprehend now," she said in her flat, growly voice. "You humans utilize your prehensile digits and utensils. I will do so from now on, Gray-son."
    Gray stood so fast the table rocked. "Enough!" he roared. "Brynne—that's enough of this—this whatever the hell you're into. Just stop."
    "Sit down, please," she said. "I will ... explain."
    Gray raked a hand through his hair and gestured. "Explain what? What the hell is going on with you? You're ... acting really weird. Doing all this strange stuff. Where the hell have you been—magic school or something? Vegas? Been hanging out with some gamblers and loan sharks, who dumped you in a—a reservoir or something?"
    * * *
    E'ea held up one of Brynne's slender hands, palm out, and projected calm.
    Grayson Stark's mouth closed and his face relaxed, the furrow smoothing out between his dark, masculine brows.
    He was considered an attractive, virile male by humans, particularly Brynne. His rejection earlier had hurt the human female deeply, and bewildered her. This was E'ea's fault—she should not have attempted to bring Brynne out of her stasis so soon.
    It had seemed worth it to connect with Grayson's empathy and male protectiveness, but that had failed, as had her attempt to withhold information from him. He was stubborn, intelligent and hostile.
    To gain his cooperation, E'ea must reveal the truth.
    "Please," she said again. "Listen. First of all ... I am not Brynne. I am merely inhabiting her body for a time."
    Grayson Stark opened his mouth, scowling again. Well, on to the next stage of revelation. E'ea projected her energy, sending a pulse strong enough to emanate visible evidence of her essence from her host's eyes and even her facial pores.
    This worked well. Grayson backed away, his eyes widening, mouth dropping open. He stopped only when he was forced to by the kitchen workspace.
    "Y-you—" He swiped his mouth with a shaking hand. "You're glowing .”
    “Yes.”
    He swallowed, his throat working. “You say you’re ... inhabiting Brynne?" he croaked, his voice nearly matching hers. "What are you ... a—a ghost of some kind? That’s it, right?