What the hell is it about this woman?
Ancient predators don’t lose their minds over simple hotel employees. And a human, no less.
At least they shouldn’t.
And yet Stark has been.
I clear my throat.
“Well, I was getting out of the shower when I slipped on a puddle of water on the floor. I think it might’ve been leaking through the door. Anyway, I tried catching myself, but uh, shattered the whole thing.”
“And you didn’t think to get dressed between then and now?”
There’s a hint of disbelief in her harsh whisper. I don’t think she meant for me to hear it, so I don’t respond, but my mouth pulls sideways on its own.
Her gaze roves over the shattered shards on the floor, surveying the damage, pen scratching against the paper as she takes a few notes.
“Got it.”
While her back is turned, I allow myself a full assessment, tracing the line of her spine, the curve of her hip. It’s a tactical error. Every second I spend staring at her is a second I’m not paying attention to the thing that actually matters.
An attractive woman is a distraction. One tangled up with a creature like Stark is a goddamn liability.
Stark is obsessed with her.
Vampires keep orbiting her.
And now she’s standing in my hotel room wearing a pencil skirt that should probably be classified as a weapon.
Fucking fantastic.
“Are you injured?” she asks, turning to look me up and down.
A pink hue rises to her cheeks before she averts her gaze.
I raise my arms, flexing. The movement makes the rune tattoos shift across my skin. A low thrum of victory vibrates through my chest when I see the blush rise on her cheeks.
Which is inconvenient.
The smart move would be keeping my distance.
The smarter move would be figuring out why Stark seems obsessed over this woman.
She swallows hard, writing something down.
“Only my ego,” I answer, trying, and failing, to smirk in a playful way. My face only has two settings: resting dick face, and I’m-going-to-fucking-kill-you face. Add in the scars and two-toned eyes… It’s a wonder she hasn’t already run away screaming.
She gets extra points for that.
Maybe I am her type after all.
Which is dangerous information to give a man like me.
“Great,” she says, her voice a little too bright.
“Like I told the woman on the phone—Celia. Just a complete and total accident.”
Kallie’s eyes narrow slightly, but she makes another note on her clipboard. “I see. Well, accidents happen. “I’ll let maintenance know so they can come replace it.”
