Shadow Dance – Shadow Riders Read Online Christine Feehan

Categories Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Suspense, Virgin Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 126060 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
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She really liked Geno Ferraro. More than she ever thought she could like another human being. She wanted the fairy tale.

CHAPTER SIX

Amaranthe found it was one thing to feel like she was in a fairy tale when she was alone with Geno in the unbelievable apartment, but it was an altogether different proposition being driven in a luxurious car to their engagement party, knowing the paparazzi were swarming around the restaurant. They had already run into a gauntlet of reporters with cameras as they exited the condominium, bodyguards shielding them as they were rushed out of a private door straight into the car with tinted windows that would take them to the restaurant, where she knew to expect the bulk of the paparazzi.

In his home, Geno was a different man, warm and doting, his entire focus on her, telling her funny stories about his brothers and asking her questions about her beloved ballet. When Geno had asked her point-blank if she would give up shadow riding for ballet, she could honestly answer him with a resounding no. She would never consider such a thing. Now, as the town car moved steadily toward the restaurant, the lively conversations she’d had with that Geno Ferraro faded away to be replaced by the stranger sitting beside her.

In his dark navy suit, his shoulders seemed wider and his chest even thicker. He appeared more sinister and very much like a crime lord. He looked so remote, his hard features an expressionless mask. He had his phone out and was clearly receiving updates on what was happening at the restaurant. Who was there. How many. The security. He seemed completely engrossed with the news from someone watching the frenzy unfolding. The head of his security also chimed in occasionally. She knew because Geno would occasionally talk to him, asking questions and giving orders.

He didn’t look at her. He didn’t talk to her. He seemed completely remote and removed from her. What had she been thinking this entire time? She didn’t fit into his world. She didn’t live in the fast lane. She observed it from the shadows, but she didn’t live there. It was exactly what she’d been thinking all along—a fairy tale. Fantasies no one really believed.

She brushed her fingers down the glittery tulle skirt in the hopes that it would give her confidence as the town car pulled into the circular entrance to the Luna D’Argento restaurant. The building had originally been a very large warehouse before the Ferraro brothers had converted it to a restaurant.

Constructed of gray, black and white stone, it was so large it had multiple entrances for the convenience of allowing for family dining on one side. Separately, a very upscale restaurant boasted an entirely different chef and staff for romantic evenings out. The back room was for private events or the family, and that room was kept locked. That was where their engagement party was being held.

It was silly how nervous she was. If they’d ridden the shadows to the restaurant, she was certain she wouldn’t have felt the millions of butterflies fluttering like mad in her stomach. Suddenly, Geno’s hand enveloped hers, thumb rubbing back and forth over the engagement ring he’d put on her finger. She glanced up at him, her fake smile in place, trying to reassure herself more than him.

She could do this. She played roles all the time. This was the role of a lifetime. She looked down at the ring on her finger, the one he was rolling under his thumb. He hadn’t asked her formally. She wasn’t certain what that meant. Were they engaged to be married, or was this a sham for the benefit of drawing out the murderers of his parents? Maybe she needed to really look at this like an undercover role, not as if he was going to be a permanent part of her life. She had wanted a home and family . . . No, she had wanted Geno Ferraro. He had been her fairy tale. Her Prince Charming.

Geno unexpectedly tightened his fingers around hers and brought their joined hands to his mouth to kiss her knuckles. “Are you having doubts about us again, Amara?”

His voice was so unexpectedly gentle she found herself blinking back tears. Geno Ferraro was a man of complete mystery to her. One moment he was as hard as steel, and in the next, so caring it shocked her.

Amaranthe attempted a humorous reply. “I suppose it’s because I’ve never even dated. I don’t exactly know about relationships. Are we undercover, Geno? You need to let me know what we’re doing here, so I can get things straight in my head.”

He turned her hand over and pressed his lips against the ring Damian Ferraro had created exclusively for her. “You’re wearing my ring on your finger.”


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