Chapter Eight Celeste
CELESTE CREPT OUT OF Victor’s suite while he slept, trying not to wake him. Her body was still sore from being ravaged by the mongrel, who’d not only nipped her savagely a few too many times, but had also maimed her chest with his claws.
No accident there.
Fortunately, she’d healed quickly, but now needed to feed and regain her strength. She adjusted her bikini cover-up, making sure she showed enough skin, especially cleavage, and decided to search for dinner.
As she stepped into the elevator, a distinguished gentleman in his sixties eyed her appreciatively. He was dressed as if ready for a round of golf, and she suddenly recalled him from the night before. He’d been with his wife in the casino, drunk and boasting about how he was some big golf pro from Florida. A
