Moving to the menu, she stared down at it for long moments, mouth watering, fighting to make a choice.
"Why don't I just order a sampler of the chef's favorite fare?" he suggested when she didn't answer.
"That sounds perfect." Clearing her throat, she looked around the opulent room once again. "Haven takes care of its Breeds while on a mission."
He chuckled at that. "Ah, lass, if only I could convince them to be so kind. No, the suite was in exchange for a fine hand of poker I played. The owner lost, I won.
Unfortunately, he was a bit short on cash at the table, and I don't take IOUs. So we made a bit of an exchange."
"Must have been a hell of a hand," she commented.
"Lady luck was smilin' on me. Now, about that drink?"
CHAPTER 2
It was possible she had had too much to drink. She'd definitely had too much to eat.
Storme stared at the remains of the sampler platters spread across the table and took another sip of what had to be the best wine she had ever tasted.
Styx sat across from her, watching her with a hint of a smile on his lips as he sipped at another whiskey. He'd been watching her for a while as she enjoyed the food, those ocean blue eyes filled with warmth.
No, that couldn't be warmth, unless he knew how to fake it. Of course, he probably did know how to fake it. She had no doubt that if he did, then the Council had taught it to him.
"Are ye ready yet to tell me your name, lass?" he questioned, that wicked, smooth voice rasping just a bit with a hint of animalistic pleasure.
He was enjoying himself. They'd talked through the meal. Talked about a variety of topics, yet never once had he asked her again why the Coyotes were chasing her, and until now, he hadn't seemed to care what her name was.
"Perhaps I prefer to remain a mystery." Yes, she had definitely had a little too much wine, but she took another sip anyway and let the soft, heated glow radiating inside her, grow. It had to be the alcohol that had her flirting as she seemed prone to do tonight.
"Ah, lass, I have a feelin' you'll always be a mystery," he chuckled as he rose to his feet and moved to her. "Come then, I'll show you to your room and let you sleep for a while. Ye look ready to pass out in your chair."
"I'm not drunk." She frowned up at him.
"Now, was I sayin' ye were drunk?" A red brow arched slowly. "I was merely commentin' on the exhaustion marking your pretty face. You're a bit pale, and definitely not at your best. Seducing a lass is always more pleasurable when she's not fallin' asleep on a mon."
"You can't seduce me." No Breed could seduce her, she wouldn't allow it. And she didn't dare allow a human male to talk her into bed. She had no desire to see another friend die.
"Can't I no'?" Lifting the wineglass from her suddenly weakened hand, he set it on the table and drew her to her feet.
She felt lazy. The exhaustion of before had eased a bit with the food. She was tired of course, but sleep wouldn't come for a while, especially considering the fact a Breed was in the suite with her.
"No, you can't seduce me." She finally shook her head. "I don't do Breeds."
To which he laughed. "Pretend I'm a mon then," he suggested. "A nice, unthreatening male eager only to satisfy your every whim and desire."
Her lips quirked. He was amusing at least.
"No one would mistake you for a normal, unthreatening man of any species."
He stepped closer. Storme stared up at him, feeling a sense of vulnerability she didn't want to feel. He wasn't a man, he was the epitome of everything she had hated for ten years.
"Lass, I'd never hurt you," he promised, his voice so deep, so gentle, his hand reaching out, so close to touching her before Storme flinched back and gave a hard shake of her head.
Life must have really become hell in the past months, she thought. So hellish she had nearly stood there and allowed him to touch her.
His gaze narrowed. "Take your shower, woman."
It was a command.