Hell. He didn’t even have to touch her. She dropped her boots and ruthlessly wrapped herself around him.
11
Three nights later, Laila called after midnight to notify him that Nora had finally graced Swirl with her presence again.
He should not show up. He had been clear with his expectations. She might be a werewolf, the daughter of a strong alpha, rare and naturally born, but she was not superior to him.
Yet there he was, walking into the wine bar and striding straight for the beautiful creature. He stopped a pace away and glared down at her.
Slowly, she lifted her gaze to meet his. “Now whose pride is wounded?”
Jared had not felt the need to strangle someone in decades, but Nora’s slender throat beckoned for his hands. Or his teeth. She sat solo at a corner table with her knee-high boots crossed on top of a chair. She had ordered a glass of wine and charcuterie board prior to his arrival. She stabbed a toothpick into a piece of cheese and popped it into her mouth.
By God, she was maddening.
“I no longer have interest in you,” he said. That was a lie. His days had been restless, and he had spent the nights planning their next rendezvous. He had even entertained the idea of approaching her at her home.
Nora cocked her head to the side. “You’d like me to leave?”
He should say yes. He could not make the word come out. He wanted her. Or rather, he needed her. For his specific purpose, of course. Not for any other reason.
She was waiting for a response. He grabbed the back of the chair her boots were propped up on and yanked it out from under her. She was close to leaping to her feet—probably would have if he had not sat—but the edge of gold faded from her eyes when he rested his clasped hands on the table between them.
“You could defy him,” Jared said.
Her jaw clenched, a sign that he had guessed correctly. Her father had angered her again.
She took a sip of wine. Set the glass down. “As easily as you could defy Arcuro.”
“I have my rebellions.”
“Oh really.” She rested her elbows on the table, leaned forward, and the steel left her voice as she said, “Do tell.”
His gaze momentarily dipped to the swells of her breasts and the enticing cleavage between them. “What will you tell me in return?”
She gave him a smile. “All my deepest, darkest secrets.”
A long curtain draped between their table and the next. He could pull it shut and take her right there, with the couple sitting to their left and others strolling past their little nook. He was hard and ready, and he was certain he would find her damp and willing.
“I want your phone number,” he said.
Her smile vanished, and she sat back. “Why?”
“In case I am unable to meet you here.”
“You’re presuming this is an ongoing thing.”
“Yes.”
“It’s not.”
“Then why are you here?”
She gave him an apathetic shrug. “It was a spur-of-the-moment thing.”
“I would like your number in case I have a spur-of-the-moment need.”
Her eyes narrowed. “There’s no way I’ll be at your beck and call.”
