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“And the ones who are most likely to spill something they shouldn’t,” Rafe finished with a nod.
“Thank you for your help back there. She became guarded so fast.”
Rafe shrugged, surprised by how much Philippe’s appreciation warmed him. “The MacPhersons are proud and very easily insulted. You just have to make sure you leave them a way out to save face.”
“It’s part of the reason I couldn’t go with Ezra’s suggestion for an alliance with that clan. I didn’t want to accidentally start a feud or spend the rest of my existence walking on eggshells.”
Rafe stopped walking and turned to look at Philippe. “You were considering an alliance with the MacPhersons?”
“Yes. You didn’t think that the Variks were the only ones on my list?”
Rafe cocked his head to the side and he smiled. “Yes, I think I did. Silly, isn’t it?”
“Just a bit, but then I’m sure you think there is no better clan than the Variks.”
“Putting aside the fact that the Variks are not a clan, I would agree with you.”
“What do you mean the Variks aren’t a clan?”
“We’re a family. If my mother had survived, she would have married Aiden. He would have been my stepfather. And even now, Marcus would marry Ethan if they were human. We are family.” He paused and frowned. “Clans…it’s all a lot of political nonsense. Varik means family.”
Rafe was stunned to find Philippe smiling so brightly at him. “And that’s why I chose the Variks for an alliance.”
Rafe opened his mouth and shut it again without speaking; there really was nothing to say to that. He continued walking, feeling a light blush heat his cheeks.
“Aside from the pride thing, the MacPherson clan wouldn’t be a bad choice. They are quite strong and fierce. They are loyal to their own, but they demand a high price for entry. Only the strongest. I…I don’t know how they would react to the members of the Arsenault clan.”
“Fair point.”
Rafe reached inside his pocket and thumbed the car key fob. The doors thunked softly as they unlocked. He looked across the roof at Philippe. “Would you like me to take you home?”
Philippe’s grin became a little hesitant. “I was thinking you could take me back to your penthouse. Maybe show me some of these fleshly pleasures you’re so renowned for.”
Rafe’s heart sped up, and his answering smile turned wicked. “Yes, that is something I can do.”
Chapter Eleven
Rafe leaned into the corner of the elevator, his hands tightly gripping the railing that ran along the walls. He stared at Philippe, knowing his face showed the same ravenous hunger he saw on the other vampire’s. But they didn’t touch. Not in the car on the incredibly fast drive across town to his penthouse. Not as they walked across the parking garage. Not in the elevator.
But the air separating them crackled as if lightning arced between them from some hidden Tesla coil.
It was like they were waiting for an official to wave a flag, blow a whistle, or fire the starting gun. For now, they didn’t move, tensed and so fucking ready.
Rafe had wanted Philippe from the first second he’d seen him seated in the art gallery, practically glowing with angelic light. He wanted to spoil that perfection. Or better yet, peer below the innocent façade to find all the wickedness he knew had to exist at the core of him. There was no way he was attracted to a pure and virtuous creature. He knew there had to be more to Philippe, and he was dying to taste it.
But whispering in the back of his mind was the constant reminder that Philippe was also the leader of the Arsenault clan. Philippe was older than Rafe by decades. That made him stronger, more powerful. More dangerous.
And judging by what Philippe had said earlier, Rafe was not going to be the one in control when he entered the bedroom with Philippe. Or wherever he happened to find himself pinned.
He liked being in the driver’s seat when it came to sex. Making sure everyone found their pleasure when he wanted, pushing them to their very limits so they were left boneless and utterly sated.
To his shock, he felt himself growing even harder at the prospect of Philippe searching for Rafe’s limits.
He trusted Philippe to find them and bring them both to climax.
The elevator chimed, snapping him from the shocking thought that had locked up his brain, and he led the way into his penthouse. Philippe moved behind him, silent as a predator, but Rafe’s nerve endings were tingling, his senses heightened. He could feel Philippe.
Keeping his strides slow and natural, Rafe walked over to the bar lining the wall of his living room. “Would you like a drink first?”
The tips of Philippe’s fingers skimmed up Rafe’s spine. Rafe couldn’t stop the soft hiss that escaped his parted lips while goose bumps broke out across his arms. Closer than he’d thought.
