Page 42

FORTY-TWO

Reed

T he things I’d arranged for Fiona had arrived and been delivered to our room, and she’d promptly kicked me out so she could, and I quote, “take an everything shower.” I’d had the shopper service send five options for her to choose from that would be appropriate to the venue, but she hadn’t let me peek at the boxes before whisking them away.

I didn’t know what that meant, but I’d spent the last three hours in the living room, catching up on business, and a quick ten-minute foray into the bedroom for my suitcase to change for dinner. Now that I had nothing left to do except wait for the big reveal, I couldn’t lie and say I wasn’t curious.

She was beautiful to me in nothing, or on sleepy-eyed mornings in a rumpled tee shirt. But the personal shopper service I used was top-notch, and I couldn’t wait to see what she’d been up to for so long. Color me curious .

I heard her before I saw her, the soft click of the doorknob twisting putting me on full alert. But still, I wasn’t prepared for the exquisite sight that greeted me when she stepped into the living room.

Her hair was styled in big, luxurious curls I wanted to sink my fingers into, her mouth painted red, dark smudged eyeliner framing her gorgeously different eyes. And the dress… It was barely fit for public consumption, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to rage in jealousy or preen like a damn fool that she was mine.

It was silver, short, and absolutely on brand for Vegas. The lining looked nude, her breasts and waist covered only by shining silver beadwork and bits of mirrored metal attached to the nude-colored backing, making her sparkle with every step she took toward me. The skirt—if you could call it that—barely covered her pussy, a sparkling fringe of beads and a few feathers that showed off a whole hell of a lot of skin with every step.

When she reached the end of the hall, just a few feet away, she did a little twirl, making the fringed skirt swing out, showing me her nearly bare back—the mate marks I wanted to pepper with kisses were framed beautifully—and the bottom of her delectable ass in the process.

No bra, her perfect breasts barely contained by the heart-shaped top and the itty-bitty straps that crisscrossed her nearly bare back.

Good Goddess, she was trying to kill me.

“Are you trying to make me ravish you on the table in front of the staff? Because I have to warn you, I don’t share, and voyeurism isn’t my thing. You belong to me, and only me.”

She chuckled, the sound low and sultry as she closed the space between us, running both hands up my chest teasingly. “Then I guess you’ll just have to behave yourself and show me a good time at dinner.” She pecked me on the cheek, and my dick twitched even at that little bit of encouragement. “If you’re a really good date, I’ll let you take it off me at the end of the night.”

I could smell her arousal perfuming the air around us at the exchange, and the urge to cancel the damn dinner was a fire burning in my veins. I absolutely had to have her; her heady amber scent drove my wolf right to the edge and left me rock-hard behind my slacks. Luckily, my jacket covered it.

But the smile she wore as she looked up at me, excited for the night out? Worth it.

I offered her my arm and tried to think of nonsexy things as we rode down to the ground floor in the elevator.

Grandmas knitting sweaters in floral bathrobes.

Sweaty wolf shifters in the sparring ring.

Business meetings that wouldn’t end with microwaved fish stink lingering in the air.

The elevator stopped on the ground floor with a chipper ding , and she stepped off first, sending an excited smile back over her shoulder at me, and all my efforts were for nothing. She owned me, body and soul.

And I was going to have a zipper imprint on my cock by the end of the night.

* * *

The ride to the restaurant was only a few minutes, and I wrapped my suit jacket around her shoulders before we stepped out.

Call me a caveman, but I wasn’t showing her off for every Tom, Dick, and Harry on the street, and there was a nip in the air now that it was dark out. She paused on the sidewalk, gaping up at the bright lights with delight.

“It’s beautiful,” she said with hushed reverence, looking just a little down the way at the famous Bellagio fountains.

“We can walk over after, catch a show if you want?”

She grinned at me, her excitement infectious. “Let’s see how good a date you are first. We might have to catch the fountains tomorrow.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I murmured, hand on her lower back as I guided her into the front doors.

We were given the royal treatment, glasses of champagne in hand before we even made it past the ma?tre d’, and then escorted through the bustling front room to the back of the restaurant, where a private table for two was tucked into a darkly paneled nook. We had a view of the chefs as they worked through a light screen of twisted metal twined with lights, but the illusion of privacy too.

The waiter was there the second we sat down.

“Welcome to the Sanguine Saint. The head chef has prepared a full tasting menu for two this evening, but we’ve been instructed to offer you any alterations you’d like, on the house. Courtesies of Carmine.” He presented us with a handwritten menu with a flourish. I didn’t even look, just watched Fiona as her eyes lit up as she read the listings.

“This looks incredible. I can’t think of anything we might want changed.” She looked up at me with a question in her eyes.

“This will be fine. Please give the chef our thanks.”

“As you wish.” The waiter took the menus back with a bow, then disappeared behind the privacy screen.

“The Sanguine Saint,” Fiona said, looking around at the dark, moody decor. “I’m not sure I get the theme. Although, it’s a touch… cathedral?”

I chuckled, leaning forward to catch another whiff of her intoxicating scent before I answered. The soft floral perfume was lighter now that we were out and about, but my wolf could spot it anywhere, despite the delicious scents wafting from the kitchen.

“Vampires. It’s a reference to Saint Januarius, patron saint of blood donors.”

She threw back her head and laughed, baring her neck in a very distracting way. I could almost see my mark there, the perfect crescent shape of it where it would go at the base of her neck.

Some couples hid their marks, putting it somewhere private for their own enjoyment and eyes only. But I’d waited so long to meet her, I didn’t want to hide anything about our connection. I wanted everyone to know she was mine, that she was claimed. I shook off the possessive thoughts as the waiter returned with our first plates.

The conversation between us flowed as easily as the food and wine—which I begrudgingly had to admit was top-notch—and before I knew it, three hours had passed, and the dessert plates were being cleared. Fiona’s cheeks were flushed with the good wine and the fun of it all.

They refused to let us pay, despite what I knew would have been a several-thousand-dollar tab. Carmine was a controlling bastard, and I knew a power move when I saw one. So I dropped a stack of cash in the waiter’s hand that was enough to pay off a midsized car and thanked him for the excellent service.

Sometimes, the negotiations started before the first word had ever been exchanged, and this was one of those times.

I wouldn’t lie and say it wasn’t gratifying to see the look of shock on the waiter’s face as I tucked Fiona under my arm and led her out through the moody restaurant.

When we reached the sidewalk, she hesitated. “Can we walk back? I’m a little warm, and I’m loving the lights and just… the bustle. It’s so alive .” She spun freely, and I steadied her with both hands on her hips.

“Anything you want tonight, it’s yours.”

Her smile was brighter than the sun, and every bit as dazzling. We walked down the Strip with our arms threaded around each other’s waists, in no hurry, despite my lingering desire to take her to bed and ravish her. We stopped in a few shops, but she waved away my attempts to buy her designer bags or anything else, except a pair of ballet flats to replace her strappy silver heels.

Many eyes turned, eager to drink their fill of her beauty, but none dared touch—even humans knew to avoid an alpha wolf with his dominance on full display. It was like we walked in our own little bubble, the sea of humanity parting around us like a stream around a rock. For a little while, I forgot about the politics, the drama, the mission. I just enjoyed being in her orbit, watching her joy as she experienced it all.

We were less than a half a mile from our hotel when two things happened at once. The sidewalk ahead was completely blocked—some racing event diverting the traffic, it looked like—and I got the sense of eyes on the back of my neck, as if we were being watched. I scanned the lingering crowd, not sensing anything out of the ordinary, but the feeling of a watcher wouldn’t leave me alone.

My security team was in our car, creeping along with us, but when we went down the side street to avoid the blockage, they would have to divert around.

It was clearly a setup, and I didn’t like it.

“Fiona—I think we need to get back in the car.”

“Aww, but look! There are two showgirls down there. Can we get a picture? They’re the only ones we’ve seen whose costumes match mine. Please? Also, I smell churros.”

The desire to please her, to keep the fun going, warred with my better sense. I closed my eyes for a moment, letting my wolf come to the fore. I didn’t smell anyone but humans; there were no vampires lurking nearby, which meant whatever was prickling at me was probably a relatively harmless human.

“All right. A photo and a churro, and then we’re going back to the room.”

Her scent spiked, arousal heating her skin as she nodded up at me, biting her bottom lip. “I’d like that.”

We wove down the crowded side street, got her picture with the silver-clad girls, and chased the scent of churros another block before we found the vendor.

She was crunching happily as we walked, this part of the city much more subdued, a quiet end to our busy evening. The streets were darker, emptier, and she was humming a happy little tune under her breath between nibbles of her treat.

The crunch of boots on pavement behind us was the only warning I got before the first shot went off.

I spun, pressing Fiona behind me against the brick wall of the nearest building as the bullet whizzed past, barely missing me.

“Get down and don’t move,” I ordered, using my full alpha bark on her for the first time. She immediately obeyed, and I sprinted toward our attacker.

I spotted him immediately, and two things were very clear. He was a human, and a hunter.

Which meant that gun was likely loaded with silver wolfsbane bullets, and if I fucked up and let him hit me, I’d be in trouble. Trouble I did not need on vampire turf.

His aim was steady and his eyes were cold as he fired the second time, and I was forced to dodge, scraping my palms on the brick wall. I needed to avoid shifting, because even in a place where the booze flowed as freely as Vegas, a wolf would stand out like a sore thumb and raise questions. Stoners and drunks were unreliable witnesses, but raising waves about wolves running the streets in highly populated areas was bad for shifters everywhere.

The hunter didn’t get off a third shot before my hand was around his throat. I shoved him against the building, breaking his wrist with the force it took to get him to drop the gun.

“Who sent you? Was it Carmine?”

The man bared his teeth, shockingly brave for a human who knew what had hold of him.

“I don’t need to be sent to hunt evil, and you’re evil. It’s not natural to have two forms. It’s a crime against nature!”

A zealot, perfect. They tended to run in packs, which meant at least one or two of his buddies would still be in the city.

I smacked him against the wall again, not hard enough to kill him, just to leave him unconscious. He crumpled in my grip, and I let him drop to the street like a sack of bricks. I couldn’t kill a human without risking exposure, but I could strip him of his weapons and leave him for someone else to deal with.

Fucker tried to kill us while we were minding our own business—I didn’t care if he got a few bumps and bruises. That wrist would ensure he wouldn’t be coming after us again on this trip, at least.

I quickly went through his pockets, stripping him of his wallet—let the human police think it was a mugging and him a raving lunatic for claiming he was attacked by a wolf—and an impressive array of doctored bullets.

With that done, I turned back to Fiona, who was standing right where I’d left her, all the color drained from her cheeks as she watched me.

“Is he dead?”

Her voice was small, timid, but she stood straight. Probably in a little bit of shock, based on her pale complexion.

“No, we don’t kill humans, even misguided hunters like that asshole.”

She nodded, looking relieved. “Are we just going to leave him there?”

“Yes. The police will pick him up and assume it was a mugging. It happens.”

She bit her lip, and I traced her jawline with my thumb. “He’s going to be fine, Stormy girl. I just knocked him out, I promise.”

Her shudders made me scoop her up, holding her against my chest as I strode out of the alley. I was distracted, concerned about her reaction to the attack after a long night.

Which was why I didn’t scent the other male until it was too late.