“No.” Darci smiled. She understood exactly what the woman reacted to—the truckload of magnetism the immortals seemed to possess in spades. “He’s a friend.”
“Thank goodness.” She waved at her face as if to cool herself. “I don’t know what came over me. So, what do you think?” she asked, her attention back on the flowers.
“It looks even better when you can actually see them,” she said, thankful that Briony could squeeze her in on such short notice. But then hers wasn’t a big affair. She twisted her engagement ring and glanced back at the white arum-lily arrangements. “I’d like to wait for my fiancé before I make a final decision. He should be here any minute.”
“Okay, just give me a shout when you’re ready, Ms. Callahan.” The woman hastened off to help another customer.
Ms. Callahan? Wait…would she still use her last name after she married Blaéz?
Did immortals even have last names?
Hmmm. Putting that aside to ask him later, she glanced at the time on the elegant, platinum wristwatch he’d given her just after she’d moved in with him.
He was late. Ugh, probably caught up in his training. The man had a thing for brutal fights. But right now, she couldn’t blame him, and she seriously contemplated Echo’s suggestion. Talk about self-control. Blaéz aced it.
Bypassing a couple, she wandered back to the entrance and stepped out into the bright, mid-morning winter sun. Even with the chill in the air, she enjoyed its faint warmth as she searched the busy street.
Hedori was nowhere in sight, but she knew he’d stay close. He took his job as bodyguard seriously, keeping her and the other women safe when they left the castle for anything.
With no idea if Blaéz was using the car or dematerializing here, and about to mind-link with him, her gaze settled on a tall guy in a baseball cap crossing the street a short distance down. He glanced back. For a brief second, it felt as if he was staring at her before he turned away and soon disappeared in the swarm of people on the sidewalk.
A shiver of unease prickled her skin and she rubbed her arms, so sure she’d seen him before. Darci hurried back into the flower shop, stopping near the towering sunflowers arranged on the shelf in the back of the store. It isolated her a little as she tried to get rid of the eerie sensation roiling through her.
Soft voices drifted through the profusion of flowers. She peered through the blooms but didn’t see anyone suspicious who might set off her inner alarm again. Frowning, she absently stroked the velvety-soft petal of a sunflower tucked in a bucketful of blooms, trying to figure out where she’d seen the man before.
Powerful arms slid around her waist and pulled her against a hard chest.
No—!Her heart nearly crashing through her ribcage, Darci spun around as the sexy scent of cool night air merged with a hint of leather surrounded her. “Darn it, Blaéz!” she grumbled, smacking his powerful forearm. “Why do you sneak up on me like that?”
Ugh, his arms were like steel bars. She flexed her fingers.
“I did call out, but you appeared engrossed in your flowers.” He took her sore hand and massaged her fingers. “What got you so spooked?”
Inhaling deeply, she shook her head. She was probably overreacting, there’d been so many other people there, and she could do without the added stress. She smiled. “It’s nothing. Your fitting’s all done? The tux is to your liking?”
He grunted.
She sighed. “I know you dislike shopping, but—”
“I don’t hate shopping.”
“Really?” She arched a brow. “Blaéz, you intimidate everyone with that cold stare.”
“I don’t have to like the people I deal with.”
“O-kay.” She laced her fingers with his. “Let’s do this. Oh, don’t forget we’re having dinner with my family in two days.”
“Should be fun.”
At his doomed tone, she laughed and squeezed his hand. “Declan was only looking out for me, that’s why he was so hard on you. So…” She waved at the flowers in the shop. “What do you like?”
“You. Preferably naked. Right now. But, since that’s off the table...” He cupped her face and kissed her…slowly.
“Blaéz—” she gasped and broke free, grabbing his wrists. “There are people—”
“Very well.” He tugged her along to the back door of the florist shop and into the greenhouse. Seconds later, he had her up against the wooden wall separating a section of lush foliage and potted conifers from prying eyes. His mouth came down on hers in a passionate kiss, his tongue licking and stroking hers, his hands sliding down her spine and lowering to her backside.
“God, Blaéz—” She pulled back and panted, “There could be cameras—we’ll get caught.”
