wearing a loose crew-neck shirt, so there was little for him to see. He straightened.
“So good job. Work a little magic on him. See what you can get. We could do a cover story on police brutality with him as the poster child. Keep this up, Randall, and I might be persuaded to promote you.”
Dick sauntered off, obviously enjoying his role as dispenser of patronage.
What an ass.
Her phone rang, and she barked her name into the receiver.
There was a pause. “Mistress? Are you all right?”
The butler.
“Sorry—and yes, I'm fine.” She put her head down on her free hand. After dealing with the likes of Wrath and Tohr, Dick's pasty version of male arrogance seemed absurd.
“If there's anything I can do…”
“No, no, I'm okay.” She laughed. “It's nothing I haven't dealt with before.”
“Well, I probably shouldn't be calling”—Fritz's voice dropped to a whisper—“but I didn't want you to be unprepared. Master has requested a special dinner tonight. For you and he, alone. I thought perhaps I would pick you up and we would find you a dress.”
“A dress?”
For a date kind of thing with Wrath?
The idea struck her as a terrific one, but then she reminded herself to be careful about reading romance into things. She didn't really know the lay of the landscape.
Or who else he was laying, as it were.
“Mistress, I know this is presumptuous of me. He's going to call you himself—”
At that moment the second line on her phone started to ring.
“I just wanted you to be ready for tonight.”
Caller ID flashed the number Wrath had made her memorize. She grinned like an idiot.
“I would love to get a dress. I would absolutely love to.”
“Good. We shall go to the Galleria. They have a Brooks Brothers there as well. Master has put in a request for clothing. I believe he wants to look his best for you as well.”
As she hung up, that stupid smile stuck to her face like glue.
Wrath left a message on Beth's voice mail and rolled over in bed, reaching out for the Braille clock. Three in the afternoon. He'd slept for about six hours, which was more than usual, but what his body typically needed after a feeding.
God, he wished she were with him.
Tohr had called at dawn with a report. The two of them had stayed up all night watching Godzilla movies, and by the sound of the male's voice, he was half in love with her.
Which Wrath simultaneously understood and resented the hell out of.
But man, he'd made the right call sending Tohr over. Rhage definitely would have come on to her, and then Wrath would have had to break something of the brother's. An arm, maybe a leg. Maybe both. And Vishous, while he didn't have Hollywood's outrageous good looks, had plenty of pimp juice. Phury's vow of celibacy was strong, but why put him in the path of temptation?
Zsadist?
He hadn't even considered that option. The scar down that brother's face would have scared the shit out of her. Hell, even Wrath could see the damn thing. And mortal terror in a female was Z's favorite turn-on. He got off on it like most males favored crap from Victoria's Secret.
No, Tohr would be on sentry duty if the need ever arose again.
Wrath stretched. Feeling the satin sheets against his naked skin made him yearn for Beth. Now that he'd fed, his body felt stronger than ever, as though his bones were shafts of carbon and his muscles were steel cables. He was back to himself again, and the whole lot of him was itching to be used hard.
Except he bitterly regretted what had happened with Marissa.
He thought back to the night. As soon as he'd lifted his head from her neck, he knew he'd nearly killed her. And not from drinking too much.
She'd pushed herself away, her body shaking from misery as she'd floundered off the bed.
“Marissa—”
“My lord, I release you. From the covenant. You are free of me.”
He'd cursed, feeling like hell for what he'd done to her.
“I don't understand your anger,” she'd said weakly. “This is what you have always wanted, and I grant it to you now.”
“I never wanted—”
“Me,” she'd whispered. “I know.”
“Marissa—”
“Please don't say the words. I couldn't bear to hear the truth from your lips, even though I know it well. You have always been ashamed to be tied to me.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“I disgust you.”
“What?”
“Do you think I haven't noticed? You can't wait to be free of me. I drink