Ours, growled his wolf. Our dragon princess.
Fucking drop it, Nick silently retorted. She’s not into us. This is just a job.
Ours. His wolf’s snarl was inside his head, but it seemed to reverberate through his entire body. His nerves hummed like the engine of his Dodge Viper.
“Nick?” Raluca opened the door a crack. All he could see of her was a bit of her face and one storm-gray eye.
Nick jumped. “Yeah?”
“I would like a man’s opinion.”
Raluca opened the door a little wider. A saleswoman emerged with a full rack of clothes; another saleswoman rushed inside with a tray of cocktails, then ducked out again without it.
Once the flurry of movement subsided, Nick caught sight of slightly more of Raluca: part of her firm jaw, half a set of luscious lips, a cheekbone that might have been carved from marble, and one arched eyebrow. And that was it. She was standing back from the door, the rest of her obscured by another rack of clothes. He couldn’t even tell if she was wearing any —
A slim ivory hand beckoned him inside. He stepped into the dressing room. Once he was inside, Raluca emerged from behind the rack.
To his disappointment, she was fully dressed. Sort of. She wore a black silk sheath dress, backless and low-cut. Simple, but hella sexy.
Other than that, the room looked much as it had when he’d first checked it: a velvet loveseat the color of red wine, a rack of clothes, a table that now had the bullet-proof vest and Fiona’s black fatigues folded atop it, one wall that was a floor to ceiling mirror, and a tray table that now held an array of cocktails. Nick leaned over to sniff at the drinks.
“What are you doing?” Raluca demanded. She sounded as if she’d caught him jerking off. In church.
“Checking for poison, of course,” Nick replied. “Or drugs. What did you think I was doing?”
“I do not know. It seemed odd, that is all. You did not smell my first drink.”
“Of course I did. You just didn’t notice. You were too busy getting your feet fondled.”
Raluca glared at him. “You mean, ‘trying on shoes.’ You make it sound as if I was committing some obscene act!”
“Same to you,” Nick replied promptly.
“I —” Raluca seemed about to snap at him, then cut herself off with visible effort. “I suppose I did. My apologies.”
Once again, Nick felt adrift. She had accused him, but when he’d accused her back, she’d accepted the blame rather than escalating the argument. He undoubtedly had looked weird. And there was no reason for her to be used to the idea that someone might try to poison her. Forcing her to apologize for something that wasn’t her fault was a dick move.
Again.
“It’s not your fault,” Nick said. “You hired me to protect you, so I’m protecting you. If you already knew all this stuff yourself, you wouldn’t need a bodyguard.”
“No, I still would,” Raluca admitted. “Even if I could scent poison, I cannot fight. I suppose the drinks are safe?”
Nick nodded. “They’re fine. Help yourself.”
Raluca glanced at the tray, then at Nick. “Detecting poison — is that a werewolf ability? Or something anyone can learn?”
“Both, I guess. I have sharp senses, even for a wolf. But they’re not magic or anything. I’m not totally sure the drinks aren’t poisoned.”
Raluca, who had started to reach for the tray, jerked her hand back. “What?!”
Nick shrugged, trying to keep his amusement off his face. Raluca was so easy to tease, he couldn’t resist it. “Some poisons and drugs don’t have scents. I can tell you that no one spiked your drink with cyanide, or anything else with a distinctive smell. Or dragonsbane, of course.”
Raluca gave a lofty shrug. “Even I can recognize the odor of that. But how do you know of it?”
“Lucas told us about it: how it stops dragons from shifting and hurts them if they’re splashed with it. How it’s poisonous if you drink it. He brought some to the office so we could all learn what it smells like. The antidote, too: heartsease. We all carry little vials of it with us, now.”
Raluca had been watching him intently. Her silver eyes narrowed. “You sound angry.”