He was as striking as I remembered. Though not as classically handsome as his partner, he was magnetic. The low light of the ballroom made his ginger hair gleam like copper. His classic suit and bow tie seemed barely able to contain his vital energy.
We didn’t speak for a moment. His scent was as spicy and rich as I remembered. My body also remembered, with visceral clarity, what it felt like to have that scent surrounding me, along with his purr.
“I’m glad to see you’re feeling better,” he said, his voice pitched low.
“Yes, much better.” I didn’t know what else to say. Should I acknowledge him purring for me? It meant nothing, not if he was bonded. I veered away from that minefield. “How are you feeling? Your knee, I mean.”
“Yeah, good. It seems like the first treatment is wearing off. The pain is coming back. Not as bad as before, though.” He leaned down to rub the top of his kneecap. “I’m anxious to get my second injection.”
“Five days til you come in again,” I said, then blushed. Did that sound too eager?
Andrew’s expression turned hungry, and a predatory glint shone in his deep, green eyes. A drop of molten heat lit me from the inside.
“Are you ready, amore?” Gabriel asked, coming up behind me. He brushed his hand lightly along my shoulder before goingto Andrew’s side. “I have a promise to keep,” he said, his voice almost too low for me to hear.
Oh, right. Andrew had been looking at Gabriel with that almost feral expression, not at me. That made much more sense. But why was it so disappointing?
“Good night,” I said and escaped before I could overhear anything else.
Nathan was right where I’d left him, and he was looking livid.
“What are you thinking?” he asked as soon as I stopped in front of him. “You can’t… he’s part of the study.”
I snorted as I slipped the business card into the small bag I’d brought with me. Even if I never intended on using it, it didn't mean I couldn’t look at it from time to time. “I’m not allowed to evenspeakto subjects now?”
“You did more than speak to him,” he replied, his jaw tight, and I realized he was talking about my dance with Gabriel.
“Gabriel isn’t even part of the study. He’s just a… nice man with a tangential relationship to the study.” Gabrielwasnice, but that wasn’t why I’d been so happy to spend time with him.
“It doesn’t matter. It’s unprofessional,” Nathan said. “He’s interested in you, and so is his partner. You shouldn’t be… fraternizing with them.”
“Ha!” I said, too loudly. A woman next to me turned, alarmed. I’d show him unprofessional. I grabbed Nathan’s arm and hauled him out of the archway into the lobby. It was even more crowded there, so I marched up the carpeted stairs. I didn’t want an audience for my spectacular deconstruction of his argument.
We made it to the second floor. It was a small space, with three balconies hung with thick white velvet curtains that blocked out most of the sound from below.
“First of all, they are notinterestedin me. They’re a bonded couple. Secondly, I’d hardly call talking at a gala eventfor the clinic‘fraternizing.’ Also, this is sonotyour business that I can’t even believe I’m having this conversation.” My blood was boiling. Usually, I could shove it down, be polite, but something about Nathan Manalo made me want to actually yell at him. It was so unfair to be brought back down to earth like this, when I’d been riding a fairytale high.
I inhaled sharply after my rant and got a face full of Nathan’s scent. My reaction to it — a twang of pleasure between my thighs — made me even angrier. How dare he smell like that while being such an ass?
Nathan’s face was impassive. His shirt was unbuttoned slightly below his jacket, showing the hollow at the base of his throat. I forced my gaze away.
“I thought you were done being condescending,” I said into the silence. “Or is that just when you want to play the hero?”
“I’m not ‘playing the hero,’” Nathan said, a fire igniting behind his eyes. “And unlike you, it seems I actually care about the perception of this study. If any of the funders see you getting too close to a subject, do you think they’ll ask questions before they fire you?”
“So you’re worried about my career? That’s it?”
“Yes.”
An uneasy silence settled. I was livid, and I wanted to storm off, but I still had to work with him, and that didn’t seem like a mature way to end the conversation.
He exhaled slowly and shook his head, breaking our eye contact. “I’m sorry. That was unfair.”
“You think?”
“Let me try again,” he said after a moment. “I don’t want to give anyone a reason to think twice about having you on the study. Even if it’s discriminatory and wrong.”
I reluctantly met his gaze again. “What do you mean?”
