"So?" he asked, glancing toward the door as Santo entered.
"So in your present state I don't think it's a good idea for you to be alone with her until she's sobered up a bit," Marguerite said, drawing his attention again.
Stiffening, he asked, "What the hell do you mean in my state?"
"I think she's referring to your cucumber... which is rather prominent at the moment," Santo said calmly, and then eyes twinkling, added, "Not that I normally look at men's packages."
Christian quickly sat at the table as his mother and Raffaele dropped their gazes to his crotch. Carolyn's comments about the delicious things he'd done to her in their shared dream had brought the memories roaring back to his mind. He had a semi-erection.
"Well, actually I hadn't noticed his cucumber, prominent or not," Marguerite said primly. "I was referring to his thoughts."
"My thoughts are fine," he insisted.
"Tell me you weren't thinking of following them upstairs, dragging Carolyn to your room and leaping ahead with your plan right away," she challenged.
Christian grimaced. Okay, so maybe the thought had crossed his mind. Now that he'd determined to move ahead with his plan and bed her, he found himself less than patient to commence with it.
Taking his expression as an admission, Marguerite continued, "And if at dinner Carolyn continues with her most frank appraisal of your performance in the shared dreams, I don't trust that the two of you wouldn't end up passed out on the beach, or in the nearest public washroom."
Christian grunted, glad he was sitting when under the table a certain part of his body responded to that suggestion.
On the beach, in a public washroom-Hell, even in the bushes at the side of the road, any of them would do, so long as they included a na**d Carolyn and his finally sinking himself into her warm, welcoming body.
"Show a little class, Christian," Julius snapped. "You were raised better than to bed your lifemate for the first time in the bushes, for God's sake."
Christian stiffened, and then glared at him for reading his mind, and said, "Oh, right, cause in the john of a train on the way to York is so much classier."
"We didn't do it there," Julius responded at once.
"From the memories in your head when you two came out of the bathroom, it wasn't from lack of trying," Christian said dryly.
"Boys," Marguerite said in a pained voice.
Glancing over, Christian spotted her embarrassed blush and immediately felt bad. While he'd been addressing his father, it had, of course, embarrassed her as well which he hadn't intended.
"Sorry, Mom," he muttered.
"As I was saying," she said heavily. "Aside from ensuring you don't end up passed out and vulnerable in a public location, I suspect that dinner will help sober Carolyn up.
By the time you finish your set in the lounge, she should be clearheaded enough that you couldn't be accused of taking advantage of her inebriated state."
Christian stilled as he realized that he would indeed be doing that if he didn't give her time to sober up first.
"Right," he said on an expulsion of breath. He and Carolyn were having dinner with his family.
His mother nodded her approval, but added, "Christian, while I agree that it may be better for you to admit you're straight and lure her to bed so she can experience what it is to be a lifemate... Well, it might not work," she warned. "I still don't think she'll be comfortable with someone she thinks is so much younger than she is. It might make her run."
"Then I'll chase her," he said firmly. "But she won't know about us and what we are, so no one can wipe her memories. Right?"
"Right," she agreed soothingly.
He relaxed a little, and added, "And it might work the other way. It might increase her feelings for me."
Before she could respond, Zanipolo entered, holding up Carolyn's missing shoe. "It took me a while to find it.
Mostly because I was looking at the bottom of the hill and it was at the top. The strap's broken. I think it's the reason she fell."
Christian took the shoe, muttering, "One of her shoes broke the night we arrived too."