Even if the thought made my stomach churn.
I raised a booted foot and—after taking a deep breath and thinking of Ilianna and what they might have done to her—stomped down on the bottom half of his leg. The force of the blow reverberated up my leg, but the snap of bone was clearly audible. The shifter twitched, but didn't react any more than that. Hopefully, the break would keep him in the depths of unconsciousness a little bit longer.
I stepped back and met the stranger's gaze again. Desire was sharper in his eyes, as was something else—something I couldn't quite define. But seeing it made my nerves quiver, and I couldn't decide whether it was a good sensation or bad.
"My name, lovely lady, is Lucian Dupont." His gaze burned into mine, scorching every part of me. "And yours?"
"Risa." My breath was caught somewhere deep in my throat and the word came out low and breathy. "Risa Jones."
"Then, Risa Jones, there is a lovely little restaurant called Wintergreen in Carlton. Shall we say tonight, at eight?"
I licked my suddenly dry lips and managed to nod.
He smiled and gave me another bow. It was an oddly old-fashioned movement, and yet extremely sexy. "Until tonight then."
He walked away. I watched him, enjoying the economical and yet oddly powerful way he moved. It was only once he'd disappeared around the corner that I remembered how to breathe properly again.
And suddenly I had to wonder how much of what I'd felt was real, and how much of it might have been enhanced by the Aedh. They might be cold and clinical beings, but I'd gotten the impression from Mom that they could—when they wanted—be as sexually alluring as any wolf.
Although from what I understood, that only happened when the Aedh was nearing the end of his long life span and needed to breed. Lucian certainly hadn't looked ready to die. Far from it.
But I hadn't felt anything untoward caressing my senses, and surely I would have. I had felt the sexual energy—the need and desire burning off him—but that had in no way been designed to seduce or coerce.
Besides, he'd invited me to dinner, not a roll in the sack. Although part of me was totally hoping a roll in the sack ensued at some point in the near future.
And maybe satisfying my more basic need—as Ilianna would call it—would stop my stupid hormones from hungering after the reaper the next time he showed up.
The thought of him had me looking over my shoulder, but there was nothing and no one there. Or at least visible.