Page 47

“Not at all.”

He waited until the waiter had opened our bottle and poured our drinks, then added, “Monsieur Rogan is an odd man, don’t you think?”

“He’s very dedicated to the museum, to the detriment of all else.”

“Obsessive,” he said, with a nod. “Has there been some trauma in his past?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” I said, a little surprised. “Why?”

He hesitated. “I mentioned, did I not, that my sister had second sight?” When I nodded, he continued, “While I unfortunately don’t possess that particular gift, the men of our line do have the capacity to ‘read’ people. Its strength works to varying degrees, depending on who is being read, but it generally allows us to get some sense of their past, their dreams, their character, and their motivations. In Rogan I sense a great sadness, one that he has never recovered from.”

“You couldn’t tell what caused it?”

He hesitated, frowning a little. “He lost someone, but it was a long time ago. I wasn’t close enough long enough to feel out more.”

Interesting. “So, it’s a form of telepathy?”

“Nothing as concrete as that. Your thoughts and your mind are perfectly safe from me.”

“But not my body, I would hope.”

His eyes gleamed and he raised his glass. “May that which already sings between us develop into something exceptional.”

Amen to that. I lightly clinked my glass against his. “What do you read about me?”

He didn’t immediately answer, but his gaze burned into mine and became a little unfocused.

“There is a fierceness within you that is almost otherworldly, something rare and beautiful, but seen by too few.” His gaze deepened, drawing me in, making me feel like I was drowning in a shimmering pool of gold. “You hunger for answers but also fear them. You want what you cannot have, and you are haunted by sadness that remains unacknowledged. You also fear that you will never be as strong or as happy as your mother once was.”

Which was a fucking accurate reading. Almost scarily so.

He blinked and refocused. “How did I go?”

“It was a little too close to the bone, in many respects.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Why so?”

“I barely know you, and yet you have the inner me pinpointed almost perfectly.”

His slow, sensual smile had desire trembling through me, though it was perhaps accompanied by a touch of nervousness. Which was weird, given I’d had no such reaction with Cynwrig, and he definitelyhadbeen a stranger when I’d fallen into bed with him. At least Eljin and I had taken the time to know each other first.

“Perhaps,” he said softly, “we could take a step or two toward solving that inequity tonight?”

I licked my lips a little nervously, a movement his gaze followed, and then nodded.

He smiled again and the conversation moved on, flowing easily over dinner and dessert. It was close to ten when he leaned back in the chair and said casually, “Do you wish coffee here, or would you like to come back to my place and have a nightcap?”

He was giving me an out if I wished one. I didn’t.

I nevertheless pretended to think about it for a couple of seconds first. “A nightcap would be lovely.”

He immediately motioned for the bill, and once it had been paid, we collected our coats and headed out into the blustery night.

“Can you walk in those heels, or shall we catch a cab?”

I smiled. “Walk. It’s not that far from here, presuming you’re still in the same apartment.”

“I am, because I’ve not been able to find something that suits my needs as well.” He shrugged lightly, a move that was somehow elegant and sensual. “I have in fact approached the owner with an outrageous offer, and I’m currently waiting to hear if they’ve accepted it.”