Chapter Five
Raluca
Nick fell silent, staring down at the floor. He still wore the white kid gloves of a gentleman over the hands of a warrior. Nick was no dragon, but his posture was that of a hero from some tragic tale who sacrificed all that he loved for honor’s sake.
Had he sacrificed something that he loved?
Ellie and Catalina had asked Raluca if she’d felt dizzy, lightheaded, or unsteady. She’d told them she did not. But now she did. And she didn’t think it was the dragonsbane. Could she truly have misunderstood Nick so badly, or was she misunderstanding him now? And could he have misunderstood her just as drastically?
She opened her mouth to ask, but instead blurted out the most absurd reply possible, to the one trivial thing he’d mentioned amongst all the important ones. “You look great in the suit.”
Nick raised his head, his emerald eyes bewildered. “I do?”
Since she’d already said it, she might as well commit herself. After all, he’d been honest with her. “Yes. You look like James Bond.”
Nick’s expression of doomed determination dissolved into a grin. It wasn’t particularly Bond-like, boyish rather than suave, but it made him look a lot more like himself. “Which one?”
Raluca had been thinking of the archetype of the elegant and deadly spy rather than a specific actor. She ran them through her mind’s eye, considering each in turn, then said, “Timothy Dalton.”
“Not Daniel Craig?”
“Daniel Craig has yellow hair and blue eyes,” Raluca pointed out. “And very large ears. You have black hair and green eyes. And your ears are... proportional.”
“Proportional ears,” Nick said doubtfully. “That’s not exactly number one on the ‘What Women Find Hot’ list. Destiny says Daniel Craig is the sexiest Bond.” Then he seemed to reconsider her words. “But Destiny has a thing about blonds. Who’s your favorite Bond?”
“Is this a trick question?” Raluca inquired. “Since I have already said which one you most resemble...”
“Nope. If I’d meant ‘Who do you think is sexiest?’ I’d have said so. I meant, which one do you like best as a character?”
“Oh. In that case, Sean Connery is my favorite.” Raluca wondered if she’d revealed her naiveté again. Probably Sean Connery was too old-fashioned, even apart from his lack of resemblance to Nick.
“Mine too,” Nick said, far too promptly for it to be anything but the truth. “First and best.”
“You do not prefer the most modern version?”
Nick shook his head. “Sean Connery is the fucking definition of timelessly cool.”
Silence fell. The air between them seemed charged with electricity, as if before a storm. Raluca no longer wanted to embarrass Nick or make him uncomfortable. She wanted to keep talking with him about which Bond was the best and why, even if it meant hearing a million more f-words. She wanted to dance with him in a place where they were both comfortable, if such a thing even existed.
She wanted to strip off his elegant clothes and adorn his bare body in silver. She’d still never seen him naked. She’d never even seen him with his shirt off. How far did his tattoos go?
He’d never seen her nude, either. She wondered if he wanted to.
When she looked up at him, she knew that he did. His brilliant green gaze was fixed on her, hot and hungry. Whatever she’d said or done to anger him, he seemed to have forgotten or forgiven it.
“God, you’re gorgeous.” His voice was husky; he swallowed. “Can I say ‘God?’ I’m reminding myself every fu — every second not to say that other word.”
“It does not bother me.” Raluca’s reply echoed strangely in her own ears. It was her own voice, but it sounded so unnatural. False, even though her words were true. “And thank you. For the compliment — for the attempt to not say that word — for protecting me — for everything.”
He shook his head, the shadow of that bone-deep hurt falling over him. “I didn’t protect you.”
“Here I sit beside you, alive and breathing,” Raluca pointed out. “You protected me in the only way that matters. Nick, you are too hard on yourself.”
“But —” Nick began.
“Hush.” Raluca laid a finger across his mouth.
He cut off his words with a sharp inhale that she felt as well as heard. His lips were so soft to the touch. So cool, compared to her own heat. Like a perfect spring morning. He sat absolutely still, his emerald eyes growing brighter and brighter. She didn’t have werewolf hearing, but she was sure his heart was pounding as hard and fast as hers.