His gaze collided with hers, and something trembled deep inside. Whether it was fear or anticipation, she wasn't sure.
Which of the free tables are yours? His mind voice was brusque, unemotional. A tight beam only the two of them could hear — thankfully, given her dad was next door in the kitchen.
Booth second from the end. She kept her tones as clipped as his.
"God," Ari continued. "Hope he chooses one of my booths."
"Thought you had a date tonight?" she said, hoping Ari was too intent drooling over Duncan to notice the slight tremor in her voice.
"Are you crazy? That honey gives me the slightest indication of interest, and I'm a puddle at his feet."
Neva watched him stride to the booth and had to admit, if only to herself, that if he'd shown the slightest bit of interest in her, she would have puddled right alongside Ari.
But he wouldn't. She knew that without a doubt. Whatever his reasons for coming here, it had nothing to do with interest or pleasure — at least not for her, anyway.
Why the hell was he here? She'd promised the nights, not the days. What was he up to? And why did she feel with such sick certainty that his appearance here boded her no good?
He slipped into the booth she'd indicated, and Ari sighed. "Typical. The best looking man I've ever seen walks in here, and he sits at one of your tables." She hesitated, visibly brightening. "Can we swap?"
She would have liked to, but there was something in his ebony gaze that suggested retribution if she tried. "Sorry. No can do."
"That's right, be greedy. Keep the hunk all to yourself."
She raised an eyebrow. "And you wouldn't?"
"Beside the point." Ari waved a dismissing hand and slapped a menu into her hands. "Go get him, tiger."
Neva took a quick drink of soda, then made her way around the counter and walked toward him. He watched every step, his dark gaze as impassive as his thoughts. By the time she'd reached the halfway point, her stomach was tumbling worse than a clothes dryer, and she was seriously regretting her quick drink of soda.
"Care for a menu, sir?" she asked, forcing a cheerful smile to her lips.
I think we both know what I came here for. He took the menu from her trembling hands and casually opened it.
It felt like he'd clubbed her in the stomach. She stared at him for a second, knuckles white as she gripped her notepad for dear life. What the hell are you talking about? Aloud, she said, "The specials today are spicy chicken burgers with chips and salad, or minestrone soup with a small platter of homemade breads."
I told you to wait for me last night.
So? You also said you'd take the time to pleasure me more fully, and that didn't exactly happen now, did it?
Though there was not the slightest flicker in his shuttered eyes, she knew her barb had hit home. His anger boiled around her, a distant touch of thunder only she could hear.
You agreed to mate with me. You had no right to leave. He studied the menu for a moment, then ordered the chicken burger and fries.
And you have no right to come here chasing me. "Would you like a coffee with that, sir?"
I have every right. "Black, thanks."
She wrote it down, mouth dry. What do you mean?
It's one of the more obscure rules of the dance. If a female who has agreed to a mating does not fulfil her promises, then the male has every right to pursue her and make her. He hesitated, his gaze snaring hers with deadly intent. No matter where she might be.
Oh God. She took a deep breath and released it slowly. Surely he wouldn't. Not here in the diner. Even he couldn't be that wild. That uncaring. But as she returned his gaze, a tremor of fear began deep inside. She may have studied this man, but she didn't know him. Didn't have a clue as to just what he was capable of doing.
I agreed to the nights. I intend to uphold that bargain.
Not last night you didn't.
We mated. If you could call what happened between them the second time mating.