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So much for him being tied up until ten. Even if she hadn’t recognized the deep voice, Alessandra would have guessed it was Kenton from Lawrence’s suddenly mutinous glare.
And . . . she could smell him.
Even though her “abilities” seemed to have settled down, no longer spiking unexpectedly, like when she suddenly overheard conversations from clear across the room, her senses were still heightened. And now that he stood just behind her, she could feel the heat from his body.
When Kenton put his hand on Alessandra’s back, she nearly jumped out of her skin.
The gesture wasn’t lost on Lawrence. In fact, he looked as if he wanted to kill Kenton.
Nothing new there.
When Lawrence pushed four drinks toward them, Kenton tossed more bills at him than was warranted.
“What are these anyway?” she asked.
Kenton reached for one of the glasses, a half smile on his face, either guessing which one was intended for him or choosing the one he favored. Something told her it was the former.
“Sloe gin for the Englishman. The one next to it is yours.” Lawrence pointed to a third glass. “That’s for your friend Toni.”
Which made Tyler’s drink, a plain rum and coke, the fourth.
“If you want an answer to your other question, I’m happy to discuss it. Anytime. You know where to find me.”
She restrained herself from rolling her eyes as Kenton’s piercing blue eyes bore a hole into their bartender. It seemed obvious she wouldn’t be getting any answers from him tonight.
She and Kenton gathered up the drinks, and while he left the bar without any acknowledgment, she paused to thank Lawrence. When they got to the table Toni had picked, Kenton handed Tyler his drink with no preliminaries.
“Here.”
“I don’t know what they are,” Alessandra said, handing Toni her glass. “There’s a new—”
“Bartender,” Toni ground out. “We noticed.”
Alessandra knew better than to engage her friend at the moment, so instead she looked at Kenton. And wished she hadn’t. Based on that look, Alessandra could never decide if she wanted to wrap her arms around him, pulling him from the void that threatened to devour him, or—
“Will you excuse us for a moment?” he asked.
Not waiting for an answer, he began leading her toward a loveseat in the corner of the room. One that happened to be occupied.
“Kenton, there are people sitting—”
“Would you be so kind as to move your conversation to the bar?”
The couple just stared at him. Balancing his drink in one hand, he managed to get his wallet out with the other, open it, and offer the man a folded hundred-dollar bill. Just like that, the seat was suddenly abandoned.
She stared at him in wonder as they sat.
“Do you make it a habit of paying exorbitant amounts of money to get what you want?”
“Yes.” He pointedly looked at the large space between them. “Do you make it a habit of avoiding men who are attempting to get close to you?”
She’d sat far away from him on purpose. When Kenton was close, it did strange things to her insides. And not of the Cheld sort. She wanted to keep her head tonight—except she also didn’t.
“That’s a loaded question,” she admitted. Taking a sip of her drink, Alessandra’s eyes flew to the bar. How could Lawrence have known exactly what kind of drink she would like best? The bartender’s attention was elsewhere, and when she followed his gaze, she realized he was staring at Toni. Interesting . . . her original plan seemed to have taken root.
“Why encourage your friend’s interest in Lawrence if she’s otherwise attached?”
When she turned back to Kenton, heat pooled in her core. His eyes reminded her of that night—of how he’d insisted she look at him as she came.
