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Their booth was in the back of the restaurant, away from the other patrons’ prying eyes. The waiter came to get their drinks order. Julian ordered his usual, blood wine. When Leah ordered water, he said, “No, she’ll have the Chambertin Grand Cru.”

The fire in her gaze shot straight to his erection. “I don’t need you to order for me.” To the waiter, she repeated, “Water, please.”

When the waiter turned to Julian for confirmation, she snapped her fingers at him. “Hey, look at me. I don’t need his permission. Now go.”

The waiter scurried away. Julian had seen Leah angry before, but not rude or uncivil.

“The wine is better,” he said, studying her reaction.

She looked like she was about to stab him with the knife in his hand. “I don’t care. It’s my order. My choice. You don’t get to change it.”

Hmm, so that was it. Julian knew nothing about her past, about when she’d joined the Organization. Did she have no choice? The thought didn’t sit well with him.

What would she think if she found out about their mating? She didn’t seem like the kind of woman to sit back and let fate dictate her life.

Good thing then that he didn’t plan on claiming her. This dinner, it would calm his raging need for his mate’s presence so he could regain more control.

Julian inclined his head. “My apologies.”

“If you plan to order my dinner, I might as well leave now.” Her eyes dared him to argue.

“I won’t interfere with your next order.”

“Good.”

The waiter returned with their drinks. “Are you ready to order?” The human kept his head down and avoided looking at them.

“I’ll have the usual,” Julian said and gave the waiter his menu. “And I’ll have the duck confit.” She watched him like a hawk, no doubt waiting for him to change it. Julian smiled and said nothing while the waiter nodded and scurried off again.

Julian stretched and skimmed his leg along hers. At her alarmed look, he raised a challenging brow. That fire he loved flared. Instead of scooting back, she rubbed her leg against him, defiance written all over her features.

Her touch sent a jolt of lust through him, as if he wasn’t already hard enough for her.

Two weeks. He hadn’t touched another woman in two weeks. It was the longest he’d ever gone without sex unless he counted those years he went aground. At any moment, he might lose it and take her right there.

If she were anyone else, he would’ve, but he wanted to treat her right. The gods knew why he cared. She was a spy, working for the Organization bent on eliminating his race. Yet, he enjoyed her company, liked that she didn’t cower before him like so many other humans.

Spy or not, she was his soulmate and deserved more than just a quick tumble in the sheets.

So, dinner first.

He would worry about the consequences later.

Chapter Eleven

“Isitmyturnfor questions?”

Nervousness flickered across her lovely features. She licked her lips. His cock jerked at the movement. Gods, what would it feel like to have her mouth wrapped around him?

Julian bit back a growl. He needed to stop, or he won’t last through dinner.

“What do you want to know?”

He had to give her credit. Other than that brief show of nervousness, she sounded normal, not like someone who had lied about her entire life.

“Where did you grow up?”

“Chicago.”