Mate.My wolf surged forward, desperate to get closer.
Easy,I said.Let’s be casual.
Attempting to follow my advice, I walked toward her slowly, pretending to admire paintings along the way. At least some of these had something that made sense—landscapes, portraits—not those abstract blurs of color like in the one Piper was discussing with the couple.
While I approached, I brainstormed what to say. Something witty. Something charming. Definitely more than grunting out “bass.”
Piper laughed from across the room. My wolf perked up. The musical sound enchanted me, and I jerked in her direction.
Right into a server gliding past with a fresh tray of champagne glasses.
No. Oh no. No!
Despite my silent protest, the glasses flew from the tray, spraying me with cool champagne, and lunged to the ground. Where they shattered. Loudly.
All conversation ceased.
All attention turned our way.
I stood shocked, frozen, and dripping with champagne as everyone stared at me.
Including Piper.
The server apologized—as if he were the one who caused the turmoil—and handed me paper napkins. I finally broke from my statue state and said it was all my fault while attempting to help pick up shards of glass. In doing so, I sliced my fingertip.
Shit.
“Oh my.” Piper rushed over, carrying a handful of cocktail napkins. “Are you okay?”
My face burned hotter than a dragon's ass. “Totally fine.” I gulped. “I think the ship lurched.”
“I didn’t feel anything.” Her lips twitched into a smile as she pressed the napkins to my index finger. “At least it wasn't red wine.”
I grunted. “True.”
As she held my hand, keeping pressure on it, I inhaled her scent more deeply. My wolf rumbled with contentment inside, despite the scene he’d caused.
She tilted her head and gazed into my eyes. “What are you doing here, Rex?”
I cleared my throat and motioned out to the easels with my free hand. “I came to check out the art.”
“Oh really?” she asked, her tone a slight challenge, calling me on my bullshit.
“Yeah.” I gulped and glanced around, searching for a lifeline. Spotting the painting she’d discussed animatedly with the older couple who had moved on, I gestured toward it. “That one in particular. Can you tell me about it?”
CHAPTER 6
PIPER
Icocked a brow as I glanced up from tending Rex’s cut to look up at him. He was even bigger than I remembered and loomed over me. His kind eyes offset his intimidating presence, and his apparent mortification at the champagne incident appeared etched on his face.
He put his hand on mine, gently removing my hand from his. “I think it’s fine now. Besides, shifter healing.” The brush of his fingers against my skin sent a shiver of heat just beneath the surface. He took the napkins and crumbled them in his hand. His cut had stopped bleeding.
“You want to learn about that painting?” I asked with skepticism while trying to pull myself together from my unexpected reaction to his touch.
“Yeah.” He used the balled-up napkins to dab at the champagne drops on his shirt. “It looks”—he pursed his lips as if searching for the right word—“cool.”
I chuckled. “Cool indeed. That’s how I often present the artwork at these auctions. You’d be amazed at how effective it is at generating sales.”
