He stared at her hard for a moment. His human politeness vied with his wolf need.
She lifted both hands. “Hey, don’t hold back on my account I want you well, not polite right now. Got it?” She couldn’t help but smile.
He shrugged. “Aw, to hell with it.” He grabbed the steak-bone at one end and a lot of rare meat at the other.
He kept groaning as he ate and it wasn’t long before his color returned to normal. She’d been around a few shifters, so she wasn’t surprised by the grunts and huffs, as though the wolf in him was trying to create a whole new string of vocalizations through his human voice.
She sat nearby and worked on her own meal, but it was difficult to keep from staring at him. His chest was bare and this new drive she experienced had amplified her attraction to him about ten-fold.
But Maeve had no interest in engaging with any man, gorgeous or not, wolf or not. When her husband had died at Veyda’s orders, she’d felt something deep in her heart break in two. She’d already said good-bye to him and to their old, beautiful, human life together. But his death had made her alter life almost unbearable. Only her nightly jaunts into the Graveyard to help others had kept her sane.
The thought of getting involved with Braden, made her cringe. Her heart was just too vulnerable for the present. She took another bite of her steak and looked at her plate.
Of course, involvement was a completely relative term.
She stole a glance beneath her lashes at his bare chest and broad shoulders. Her gaze lingered on the way his arm flexed and unflexed as he tore bites from the steak. Certain parts of her warmed up.
She’d never been with a man like Braden. He had so much bulked-up muscle, he looked like he could lift a car with one hand. He had no hair on his chest which gave her a clear view of his thick pecs and sculpted abs.
She wondered suddenly what his wolf looked like.
Instinctively, her hand went to the nape of her neck. She drew a deep breath and stroked her skin in the exact spots she suspected his fangs would land to hold her in place.
Her nostrils flared. Well above the aroma of the ribeye, she caught a sudden flow of Madagascar vanilla. It hit her so hard she gasped. She knew she’d been caught staring again.
Her gaze flew to his.
He’d stopped eating and was watching her in a way she could only describe as predatory. His extraordinary green eyes glimmered and showed golden rings. His lips pulled back and he bared his teeth. His cheeks had elongated slightly. She could see the beginnings of dark wolf-fur.
Oh, sweet Mother of God, what she felt in this moment. It was as much a pull on her soul as it was a driving force through her body. She wanted Braden and she wanted to feel his teeth on her neck.
What are you thinking about? His voice, even inside her head, had dropped at least one octave and held a resonance that stroked the insides of her thighs. He settled the remnants of his steak on his plate.
She saw no reason not to tell him. “Your shoulders. Your chest. Wondering what you looked like as a wolf and whether your fangs would hurt if you used them on me.”
He took a few deep breaths but his nostrils worked like bellows. Slowly, his features returned to human-normal. “This wouldn’t be smart, Maeve, not for either of us.”
She agreed. “Not on any level.”
He heaved a sigh. “Thanks for the food.” He hadn’t touched his salad but she wasn’t surprised. He’d eaten what he’d needed most.
He wiped his hands on the napkin. She moved the tray away as he settled back into the pillows.
“Do you want me to go? Would that be easier?”
“No. Please stay. We don’t have to act on any of this and I like your company. I always have.”
“Then I’ll stay.”
“I’m beat, though.”
“Sleep if you can.” She’d seen the recovery process of the near-dead many times. Sleep, food, maybe a shower, more sleep.
His eyes closed shortly afterward.
She picked up her fork and worked on her salad and her steak.
As he started to doze, she shifted her focus away from him and began cataloguing all the projects that needed tending. She never went out into the Graveyard until after midnight and it was only nine in the evening. She needed to meet with the architect and the builder to see how the apartments were progressing, and she had to get busy and create at least two dozen new candles for her shop.