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“Wow! So, you’re from a generation when men made the decisions for women.”
“I am. I am also a predatory shifter and a Firebrand commander.”
“So, bossy’s in your genes?”
He glanced down at his groin, letting a grin spread across his face. “You’ve named my cock before you’ve even seen it.”
She smiled. “Funny. No. The DNA kind, but I don’t doubt you have a bossy dick. By the way, does this macho bullshit work on your other dates?”
“I don’t date.”
“You don’t hook up with women?” she asked, her brows shooting high.
“Hook up? Here’s the problem with living so long. One day you’re speaking Shakespearean English and the next listening to rap. I do not date, but I do hook up a lot.”
Celene’s laugh was like no other female’s. No soft giggle. No polite chuckle with a hand covering her mouth. No. She tilted her head back and let loose. It was a wonderful sound that went straight to his groin.
“Are we dating or hooking up?” she asked.
He clasped a fist to his heart. “One now. One later.”
The waitress delivered drinks before taking their order. Nace let Celene choose since she refused to go with his recommendation.
“You are a dangerous man, Commander Nace. A throw-back who’s tricky enough to seduce me to the dark side if I were weak. I’m not. I’ve been on my own a long time. My parents died when I was young. I’m a trust-fund baby who fends for herself.”
He shook his head. “So you said before. I don’t know what a trust-fund baby is.”
With her elbow on the table, she rested her chin in her palm. “It means I have big bucks. No mom or dad anymore but plenty of dough. It’s kept me in caretakers, nannies, servants, sycophants, the best private schools, and plenty of caviar. I’ve been on my own a long time, making decisions, doing what I wanted, buying anything, going anywhere.”
“I get it. You’re independent.”
She stifled a chuckle. “I’m way past independent. I took a left turn at footloose-and-fancy-free and kept going until I hit unrestrained-as-a-headstrong-wind. I live for the thrill. And that’s how I like it.”
Nace drew his brows tight. The female confused him. “Don’t you want a male who cares enough to keep you safe, someone to lean on when life gets hard?”
“I can protect myself. Well, I could until Cerberus got ahold of me. I admit, the experience set me back. I’ve doubted myself. I’ve wondered if I can return to being me. I never want to see a stranger facing me in the mirror when I wake up in the morning.” She swallowed. “I would rather die than be another woman. For good or for bad, I want to be me.” She brushed aside a tear. “Sometimes, I’m afraid she’s gone.”
He reached across the table to grasp her hand in both of his. “Have no worries, Celene. I see a strong female in front of me. Still, I have a need to protect what is mine.”
“I’m not a possession, Nace. Never will be. Are you looking for a submissive woman?”
His thumbs stroked the back of her hand. “I thought I was. Now I find myself drawn to a female who thinks for herself.”
Nace was learning something new. He had wanted to court Celene to tame her, to make her submit. She was a challenge. A jaguar loved a challenge. Instead, he no longer wanted to break her. He was enjoying her as she was. Untamed. Reckless. Not submissive. How would he reconcile this new desire with his breed needs? The need to protect? The need to be in control?
“Celene, I am at a loss. I find you irresistible.” He grinned. “But I insist on being on top. Always.”
“Let me see if I’ve got it. You’re a reformed man, now looking for a woman who can take care of herself, except in your bed where you’ll be king?”
“Yes.”
She arched an elegant brow. “Believe it or not, Commander, I’m okay with the arrangement.”
He tossed back the shot of whiskey. “I will likely make mistakes as I adjust to this modern me. And please understand, I am as protective by nature as you are independent.”
She cocked her head to the side. “Protecting those you love means not smothering them either. What if you kill them by taking away the very air they breathe?”
“That will never happen.” Nace leaned across the table to capture her lips, licking the seam as she opened her mouth to let him inside. His tongue stroked hers, savoring the taste that was Celene Bailey, wild strawberries and stormy winds. When he pulled away, his breath hitched.
