Aden shrugged. “You were very determined, and I was curious. What is it you really want, Sidonie?” He reached out to trace one finger along the delicate curve of her collarbone, leaning close enough to draw in the sweet bouquet of her blood. She shivered, and he scented her fear. She was excited, too, by him, or maybe simply by the thought of having a vampire drink from her. But there was fear there. And that was far more arousing to him than any sexual curiosity.
Still, it wouldn’t do to play into her desires. This wasn’t a blood bar, and he wasn’t some lust-driven idiot on a blood-drunk.
He skimmed his finger sideways, as if he was about to tug her sweater down and bare her shoulder, but then lifted his hand and stepped deliberately away from her. She sucked in a breath, her face registering obvious dismay at his abrupt departure.
“You still haven’t told me why you’re here,” he said absently, crossing over to sit behind his desk. He brushed idly at his pant leg and gave her an inquisitive look.
She was still over by the windows, her heart fluttering, her breathing rapid, as she stared at him. A spark of something lit her eyes suddenly—embarrassment maybe, or even anger that he’d left her standing there while he sat.
She blinked several times, then pressed a hand to her throat and said, “I think—” She coughed drily, and he gestured at the wet bar at the other end of the room.
“There’s bottled water in the fridge.”
She gave him a disbelieving look. A polite man would have gotten the water for her, would have ushered her to a chair as if she wasn’t fully capable of planting herself there. But then, he was neither polite nor a man. Besides, he didn’t trust himself not to taste her… and more… if he touched her again, so it was best that he keep his distance. He had other things on his mind tonight. Tomorrow was another matter entirely, however.
He watched her walk over to the bar, h*ps swaying in her tight skirt. She bent over to the small refrigerator, displaying a nicely heart-shaped ass. Oh, yeah. As Travis would have said, he was definitely going to tap that before this was all over.
She turned, bottle in hand, and he let her catch him watching. Her heart sped up again, and he smiled lazily, which only made her heart act up even more. A blush pinked her cheeks, and he pictured the same rush of blood coloring the imprint of his hand while she was bent over his desk, begging him prettily for release.
“Lord Aden,” she chastised breathlessly, as if she knew what he was thinking. She took a sip of water, then pressed the cold bottle to her overheated face.
He gave her a smug look and gestured at the two chairs in front of his desk. “Have a seat, Sidonie. You seem overcome.”
Her soft lips tightened in irritation, but only briefly. Whatever it was she wanted from him, it was important to her. Important enough that she’d sought him out, enough that she was willing to put up with his toying with her. And yet she hadn’t told Travis anything at all, clearly not willing to give up her purpose until she had the right audience. Interesting.
She sat down, crossing her long legs with a slide of silk stockings. Aden gave her a blatant once-over, starting with her legs, traveling to her chest, and finally to her very annoyed expression.
“We have business in common,” she said primly.
“And what business would that be?” he asked, letting his doubt, and his amusement, show.
“The late, and unlamented, Klemens was a drug dealer, and—”
“I’m aware.”
“But that was the least—”
Aden’s phone rang, interrupting the woman’s discourse on Klemens’s many dissolute ways. He was both relieved and disappointed at the same time. Relieved because he really wasn’t up to a lecture on the evils of drugs in modern culture, and disappointed, because he’d expected better of Sidonie Reid. She’d gone to all this trouble only to tell him what he already knew? That Klemens had derived the bulk of his income from various illegal activities, including drugs? How very ordinary.
He picked up the phone. “Bastien, what is it?” he asked, hoping it was something worthwhile.
“We’ve found Silas, my lord.”
“Tell the others. We’re leaving immediately.”
He’d expected disappointment, but Sidonie’s look was more one of disbelief than anything else. “You’re leaving?” she asked.
“Duty calls,” he said abruptly, not feeling any particular need to explain himself. “I’ll have my car—”
“No,” she said quickly. “I’ll get a cab. Is it the challenge?”
Aden was already halfway to the door, but her question made him stop and stare at her. “Why would you ask that?”
“Curiosity,” she admitted, shrugging. “It’s a rather unique process, one we know little about. And it’s not exactly front page news.”
“No, it’s not,” Aden said flatly. “And we intend to keep it that way.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’ve no interest in writing an article on the inner workings of vampire politics. That’s not why I’m here.”