“You were looking very chummy with the nymph. I doubt you were exchanging recipes.”
Emerald fire sparked in her eyes. “Is that an insult of my cooking abilities?”
His lips twitched as he recalled coming home last evening to find Sophia waiting for him at the table, her expectant expression revealing her pride in the hideous creation steaming on his plate.
It was a testament to his devotion to her that he’d managed to choke down more than two spoonfuls.
“Cara, I’ve eaten raw slug demons that tasted better than your meat loaf.”
Her power slammed into him, nearly sending him reeling backwards.
“It was salmon loaf, and since I never wanted to cook for you in the first place I hope it gives you food poisoning.”
“I think it very nearly did.” He did a hasty sidestep as she attempted to circle past him. “Where are you going?”
Her jaw tightened. “To bed.”
He hissed, his body reacting with violent excitement to her simple statement.
It wasn’t helping matters that he’d spent the past four hours imagining how easy it would be to slice through the strings holding together her tiny excuse for a swimsuit.
Suddenly his Speedo was painfully tight.
“At this hour?”
“I’m tired.”
Tired? Mierda. He had never felt more juiced in his life. As if his entire body was buzzing with electric anticipation.
He stepped closer, his wolf relishing the warm scent of woman and power.
Until Sophia he’d never noticed whether a female could match his strength. So long as she was attractive and intelligent enough to hold his interest outside of bed he considered it a good relationship.
Now, he found his wolf preening at the knowledge this female was capable of holding her own.
Even against him.
His fingers lifted to grasp a strand of pale gold hair, savoring the feel of the silky softness.
“You still have guests.”
“They aren’t waiting around for my company,” she said, the bite in her voice unmistakable. “Just try to keep the noise down. We don’t want to be busted by the neighborhood watch.”
A slow, wicked smile curved his lips. “Why, Sophia. Are you jealous?”
Holding herself rigid, she met his teasing gaze. “I’m a Were.”
“And?”
“And we don’t get jealous.”
His humorless laugh echoed through the kitchen. “If that were true then I wouldn’t have waited outside your club for that damned imp to show up just so I could make it clear he wasn’t to so much as smile at you during your meeting.”
She blinked in surprise at his blunt confession. As she should. He’d felt like a dork waiting for the imp to make his scheduled appointment with Sophia and then accosting him as if he were some lethal assassin instead of a harmless liquor distributor.
Of course that didn’t stop him.
He’d been compelled to make sure the fey understood that Sophia belonged to him.