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“I have things to do,” she replied primly.

“What things? Another romance novel?” His lips quirked in a teasing smile, but the second her cheeks reddened, he knew he’d erred. “Soleil, I?—”

“If you must know, I’ve arranged to meet with a procurer of rare plants. I’m working with Spring Thorne to repopulate a specific species, and he may have what we need.” Chin high and an embarrassed flush staining her skin, she nodded to Draven. “Thanks for dinner. I’ll give you a call soon.” Then she turned to Mattie. “I’ll tell Damian you said hello. Good night.”

Without a backward glance, she headed for the exit.

Trevor bolted after her.

Behind him, he heard the scrape of a chair and Draven say, “Well, I guess it’s you and me,cher. What are we drinkin’?”

Knowing Mattie was in safe hands, he left to find Soleil. Belatedly, it registered that he hadn’t gotten the information he needed about why he was assigned to Soleil in the first place.

Trevor cleared the door in time to see Soleil hail a cab. The damned driver went right past her to a model-thin blonde in a tight miniskirt. Soleil’s shoulders slumped, but with grim determination, she shifted to hail another.

Squealing tires grabbed Trevor’s attention, and he had barely enough time to reach Soleil and drag her to safety as a dark SUV with blacked-out windows jumped the curb. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say it had been heading straight for her.

“That was close!”

“Yeah. Too close,”he silently replied to her comment ringing in his head.

For a few precious heartbeats, they stared at each other. Thoroughly horrified.

“Did you just?—”

“You heard me?—”

Again, they shared a shocked look. Yep. They’d mentally connected as only a higher magical being could—with their mate. Shoving aside the implication of hearing her inside his mind, Trevor ordered her to stay put.

The SUV was long gone when he got to the street.

“Anyone get a license plate?” Soleil asked from directly behind him.

He spun back to see her speaking to the valets. Someone needed to teach her the meaning of “stay put.”

“No, ma’am. Sorry,” one twenty-something guy replied to her question. His companion was too busy staring at Soleil’s cleavage to respond.

“Hey, buddy. Up here,” Trev growled, snapping his fingers a foot above the kid’s focus.

Blushing a deep cherry red, the guy looked at him and swallowed hard. “Yeah, sorry, no.”

“Thank you,” Soleil said with a sweet smile as she held out a twenty-dollar bill to first one valet, then the other. “I appreciate your help.”

Running a hand through his hair, Trev snorted. “What help? They were useless twats,” he said once the boys were out of earshot. “Disrespectful, at that,” he added.

“They are young men, Mr. Blane. They’re all obsessed with breasts at that age.”

His gaze dropped to her impressive chest. “At any age.”

Soleil rolled her eyes and walked away, but in the reflection of the restaurant windows, he could see her slight smirk. Running to catch up, he clasped her elbow and directed her toward the parking lot.

“Come on. We can teleport to your home faster than finding a ride.”

“I can get home by myself, and besides, I’m in a hurry to meet the plant dealer,” she protested.

“Right.”

How had he forgotten?