“Listen, Prince.” She stretched up and reached for his tie, loosening and re-knotting it, then smoothing her hand down the front of his chest. He was grateful for the low lighting; the gesture only made his below-the-belt situation worse. “This place is going to be hugely popular,” she continued, “which means you’re about to getrealbusy. If you think you’ll have time to babysit me twenty-four seven, by all means, continue your incessant stalking. But—”
“Stalking?” Gabriel scoffed. “I’m merely… looking after my investment.”
“Investment, right.” Jacinda laughed, the music of it drawing out his smile and melting another layer of ice from around his heart. “Well, I suppose that’s a step up from property.”
He leaned in close, whispering into her hair. “And two from prisoner.”
She smelled like lavender tonight, a hint of spring flowers floating just above the dark-earth scent he’d come to know.
To crave.
“Hey, I’ll take the wins where I can get ’em.” Still grinning, she glanced around at the main level, letting out a soft sigh of wonder. It was the first time she’d seen the space with all the finishing touches in place, and now, Gabriel tried to view it through her eyes.
It was dark, yet inviting, with hidden recessed lighting that made the entire space look as if it were cast in moonlight. Massive obsidian mirrors hung on muted black walls, offset by panels of rich, wine-colored velvet. The club managed to look edgy and elegant at the same time, giving off a sleek, mysterious vibe that lacked pretension while still suggesting an air of exclusivity.
It was exactly as Gabriel had envisioned.
For some inexplicable reason, her approval meant a lot to him.
“So, you ready for this?” Jacinda turned back to him, sharing another bright smile. “The big reveal!”
In that moment, she seemed so purely happy, Gabriel was overcome with the ridiculous notion that Obsidian hadn’t just been his own dream, but hers as well. A thing they’d created together. A thing they would now celebrate, sharing in each other’s joy.
He closed his eyes, quickly dismissing the sentimental thoughts. For fuck’s sake, he hadn’t even started drinking yet. What spell was she casting on him now?
“I’m ready,” he said, meeting her eyes once more. “Are you?”
She glanced over at the bar, where all the liquor and ingredients she’d requested awaited her magic touch. “The question is, Prince… Are they ready forme?”
Another laugh, another shimmer in her eyes, a loose curl falling free and skating across her shoulder.
“Jacinda.” He reached for that evocative curl, gently brushing it behind her shoulder, her skin like warm silk.
She shivered at his touch.
He stared at her mouth.
He wanted to tell her she looked good. Stunning, actually. That every supernatural beast who walked through those doors tonight would love her, would love the drinks she concocted, would return again and again just to watch her work her magic behind the bar.
He wanted to tell her the truth—that for the first time since he’d dragged her into his vicious world, he was bloody glad she was here.
But he’d already been too open, too vulnerable. Too fucking close. And the ghosts of his past, however ancient, still whispered in his ear, their icy claws still scraping against his heart.
So in the end, Gabriel fell back on the words he knew would douse the heat between them, would shut that door and bolt it tight before she kicked it open for good.
“Don’t disappoint me tonight, witch.”
Chapter Eleven
“The vampires certainly love her,” Gabriel grumbled. “As do the Rogozin hellspawn.”
From the center of the leather alcove where the Redthorne royals currently held court, Dorian raised his glass of scotch and smiled. “Congratulations, brother. Seems you were finally right about something.”
“Right about what?” he asked. “You’re the one who invited the bloody demons.”
Dorian pointed at the bar, where the vampiresandthe demons lined up a dozen bodies deep, all of them waiting for one of Jacinda’s magic brews. “Not six weeks past, you and I sat at that very bar after the Bloodbath massacre. And you told me the witch would be working for you, looking damn good while doing it, and winning customer service awards in no time.”
“Three for three,” Dorian’s woman Charlotte said, her hazel eyes glittering. Since their recent engagement, the pair had only become more disgustingly sappy.Everythingseemed to make them smile now.
