“Really?”
Oh yeah, real slick, Sage, I told myself.
“Really.”
His voice was so deep and resonant, it was like a massive cup of coffee and I was just sinking down into it as it warmed all the way down to my core, a mental impression that was soon reinforced by his physical presence. The waiter had evaporated into thin air and was replaced by him.
Lucien smelled like amber and sandalwood and some kind of spice that made my mouth water, my nose following his path as he came behind me. His hand went to my bag, peeling the strap off like it was the sleeve of my dress, then he set it on the table before his hand slid down my back, following the curve until it came to settle on the top of my arse.
Can he feel the shapewear?I thought furiously.Does he know I can’t take a full damn breath because of it?My eyes slid upwards, finding him staring down at me, a small smile on his face. I looked into those hazel depths, losing myself in them, unable to look away.Or maybe it’s him that’s taken my breath away?His other hand reached up, the thumb rubbing along my lips until they parted, his attention entirely on them until a loud guffaw of laughter from a group across the room had him snatching it away.
“I knew we should’ve met somewhere more private,” he muttered, throwing the crowded dining room a dark look. “But I think I knew how things would go if I did.” He pressed down on the base of my spine then, directing me over to the table, then pulled out my chair, the warmth of his body palpable as he leaned over to push it in under me. Then he moved to take a seat beside me, his elbows resting on the table, golden cufflinks glinting as he stared across at me. “What are you hungry for, Sage?”
You, I wanted to reply. I’d been chatting with a phantom on Howlr for some time, the blurry photo doing little to dispel the fantasy-like nature of Lucien, so the reality was so damn shocking, I couldn’t help but stare. His hair gleamed with some kind of product, keeping it swept back and off his face, but a single strand had come free to dangle in his eyes, making my fingers twitch to smooth it back. Or sink my fingers in those carefully combed strands and mess them all up. Those hazel eyes seemed to see everything I was thinking and more, and a light danced within them, daring me to do just that. His jaw was a masculine square, the dark, ‘more than stubble but not quite a beard’ scruff there accentuating the shape, and then there was that mouth. Perhaps sensing my inspection, those full lips pursed, then his tongue slid across them, moistening them for a second before he spoke.
“Let me order for you.”
“What?”
“I know this place well, what their strengths and weaknesses are. I’ll order us a tasting menu, so there’ll be plenty to sample from.” I found myself nodding along automatically, hearing the resonant sound of his voice but not really the content of the words. “You can have a taste of everything that appeals to you.” He placed a little emphasis on that last sentence, his lips curling in a feline smile as my eyes widened. “I think I’d enjoy that a lot—seeing what you are drawn to and what you’re not. What do you say?”
“Yes.”
Of course I said yes. I was always going to. Nikki hadn’t really needed to give me that pep talk, because as soon as I was texting or chatting with Lucien, all thoughts went out the window. I wasn’t sure if that’d be the case when we finally met, but in some ways, it was worse. He was like a heady perfume, filling my nose, lulling the sensible part of me to sleep, and awakening…her—the Sage who just wanted to dive on into those deep hazel eyes and keep on diving.
He smiled then, like I’d done him the greatest of favours, and gestured for the invisible waiter to come over, the man appearing again as if by magic. Only Lucien’s eyes were on me the whole time as he spoke to the waiter, rattling off selection after selection, the poor waiter’s pen flying across the notepad as he spoke.
“I think this is going to prove to be a very enjoyable night, Sage,” Lucien said finally, his hand coming to rest on the back of my chair as the waiter scurried away, but before I could come up with a reply, his fingers reached up and grabbed my hair. He teased the ends, sending shivers up my spine, a movement he caught with eyes that were turning rapidly silver. He swooped in, bringing with him more of that woody scent, his mouth hovering over mine. “Very enjoyable, indeed.”
3
“Get it together,” I told my reflection in the ladies’ bathroom.
The Sage in the mirror was not me. Granted, she was primped and polished within an inch of her life, Nikki having put me onto a makeup artist friend who’d made me over, but it went beyond that. My eyes were wide, red spots glowed in my cheeks, and my lips were unable to stay closed, my breath coming in short pants. Lucien was perfect—utterly and completely perfect.
And that was the problem.
“He’s an alpha, you’re a beta. Don’t get too caught up,” I told myself in a low hiss, but I was forced to rub at a point on my upper thigh, where the imprint of his hand felt like it had been burned in.
“Too fucking late,” I said with a little groan.
Our food had arrived,and Lucien had gazed at the various dishes spread across the table top with a strange kind of satisfaction, one I’d been reluctant to disturb. It was a feeling that was reinforced when I picked up my fork, ready to try something. He’d plucked the utensil from my fingers, a move that had me gasping a little in response.
He couldn’t know.
Most people wouldn’t have the same reaction to what he’d just done as I had. His mother wouldn’t have acted as my mother had when doing the exact same thing throughout my life, a look of disapproval and disgust on her face when she did so, that look transferred to the meal I’d made myself. He wouldn’t have been given a lecture, chapter and verse, on the various health traps he was falling into through the simple act of eating, each mouthful reviewed over and over until he was filled with regret.
I’d flushed for a second, right up until he’d spied the dish that he wanted and speared a succulent piece of beef, dripping with a fragrant sauce, before offering it to me.
I’d blinked, looked at him and the fork, then back again, my eyelids fluttering so fast, they’d felt like they were about to take flight.
“I’m sorry,” he’d said, his smile faltering. “I should’ve asked if you were comfortable with this. It’s an alpha thing. We like to feed those that we’re with as a sign of…” He went to set the fork down. “You know what—”
“It’s OK,” I’d said, putting a hand on his arm. The muscle had tensed under my grip, and his eyes slid down, seeming to catch the way my manicure contrasted with the deep navy of his suit. “You thought I might like that, and you wanted to give me a taste,” I prompted.
“I find myself wanting to put quite a lot of things between those plump little lips,” he’d rumbled in a low voice. “This is just me trying to appease that instinct without disgracing us both in a public place.”
“Oh, it’s like that, is it?”