Zia’s lips parted in a look of soft surprise before a slow, sweet smile curled her lips. Shyly, she asked, “Are youworriedabout me, Mr. Bounds?”
Harlan shook his head. “You have no idea.”
ChapterTen
The Gold Veinstood out against the oak trees that lined the sloped street. String lights looped around its wooden facade, casting a warm glow into the blue-black October night. The building itself was once a saloon built for the first wave of miners that came with the settlement of the territory, but it had been refreshed and redesigned in recent years to give it a sophisticated face-lift. Old wood beams and the antique bar were refinished, tasteful bespoke light fixtures dangled from the ceiling, and the furniture was an eclectic mix of velvet and vintage leather. The strains of soft guitar drifted through the air.
“Oh, it’s so pretty,” Zia breathed, her eyes darting from the silk wallpaper to the white table cloths to the twinkling lights like she couldn’t take it all in at once. It took a moment for her brow to furrow. “Why is it empty? Are we early for the dinner service?”
“No,” he answered. Harlan kept his eyes on the owner, a balding, jovial arrant who came to take their coats, his hackles raised. It didn’t matter that he was familiar with the man. With his instincts in a tailspin,anystranger near his anchor made him bristle.
“Welcome, Mr. Bounds,” the owner said, gesturing toward a set of polished stairs. “Your private dining room is all ready for you. Your server will be with you as soon as you’re settled in.”
As he guided Zia up the stairs, Harlan felt her lean in to whisper, “Private dining room? The entire restaurant is empty!”
And it would remain that way. He didn’t want anyone to disturb them while he attempted to win his anchor, and the deeply vampiric need for isolation made it impossible for him to tolerate an entire room full of strangers just below his feet while he did so.
“I always get a private room when I visit,” he assured her.
Zia cast him a sidelong look. “For all your dates?”
Harlan gave her waist a single, possessive squeeze. “No dates before you matter, but if it makes you feel any better, no, I’ve never taken anyone here before.”
A little jolt of surprise moved through her body. It was followed by an uptick in her heart rate — the sweetest little stuttering beat he ever heard.
Breath quickening, he nudged her down the narrow hallway that led to what was once a gambling parlor. A single circular table had been set up for their use beneath a set of wide, gabled windows that overlooked the quaint street below. The lighting was soft and golden, provided by a series of artfully placed string lights and flickering candles in tall glass fixtures.
Zia looked dazed as he pulled out her chair for her. In the golden light, her dark eyes looked like melted chocolate.
Harlan settled in the chair across from her and only took his eyes off of her face long enough to watch their server fill up their glasses with wine. That done, he made himself scarce. The door closed with a soft click.
“This is… a lot,” she breathed. Her fingers danced along the edge of the table as the look on her face changed from awe to uncertainty. “You didn’t need to go to this kind of trouble for me.”
Swallowing a sip of red wine in the hopes that it would soothe some of the raging ache in his mouth, Harlan eyed her over the rim of his crystal glass. “Why do you think that?”
Zia bit her lip and then released it. “I don’t know. I’m just not used to this sort of thing. No one’s ever…” She gestured helplessly to the table. “I’m not the kind of girl most people wine and dine, is all.”
A bubble of fury burst in his chest. His voice was a whip’s crack when he replied, “Don’t say that. A nice date is theleastof what agirl like youdeserves. Tell me who convinced you that you aren’t worthy of the bare-fucking-minimum and I’ll correct their mistaketonight.”
Zia’s eyes, already large and doe-like in her soft-cheeked face, widened to a comical size. “Oh, no, that’s…” Her fingers fluttered over her cutlery as if they needed something to do. “No, really, that’s okay, Mr. Bounds. I’m just— I’m not used to places like this.”
Worry seized him. He aimed for low-key — as much as he was capable of, anyway — but it was possible he’d missed the mark. “Do you not like the restaurant?”
Startled, she gripped the edge of the table and leaned forward. “No! It’slovely.No one’s ever taken me somewhere this romantic before. It’s just different, that’s all.”
Lowering his glass, Harlan flexed his claws around the delicate stem.Calm, Harlan.“Tell me what your previous dates were like, then.”
She shrugged one shoulder and reached for her wine. Speaking into the glass, she answered, “Movies. Coffee. Sometimes a picnic.”
In other words,low effort.
He fought a scowl. “Do you prefer those things?”
“No, not really,” she admitted, lowering her glass. “I’ve mostly dated academics. They aren’t the most romantic sort, you know. I never minded it very much, but…”
Harlan tensed when a light knock interrupted them. The server was in and out, skillfully taking Zia’s order and delivering a plate of appetizers for her before he vanished again.
When the door closed, Harlan announced, “That will never be good enough for me.”
