Which was by choice rather than a lack of opportunity,an inner voice noted.
In the end, I settled for a simple, dark green A-line dress with shoestring shoulder straps and a back that fell to just below my bra line. Which, of course, meant I couldn’t wear a bra, but it wasn’t like I did all that often anyway.Thatwas the whole point of wearing supportive crop tops and having smallish breasts.
Once I’d done my makeup, I searched the floor for my silk wrap in case it got cold later, then grabbed my glittery handbag and phone and headed out. I found the car a few spots down from where I usually parked and jumped in. It took twenty minutes to get across to the restaurant, which was near The Gabba, Brisbane’s main football field.
Once I’d found a parking spot, I climbed out and walked down. The restaurant was on the other side of the road, but I didn’t immediately cross over. The lovely old building was packed with people, with laughter and conversation spilling out from it, accompanied by a sea of gold and silver luminescence. The darkness might be tied down, but the energy coming from that restaurant was too fierce to totally ignore.
I took a deep breath and released it slowly.You can do this. It’s not a date.
I wished someone would tell the damn butterflies in my stomach that. Anyone would think I was a nervous teen rather than a damn near middle-aged woman. It was ridiculous.Iwas ridiculous.
I checked for traffic, then quickly crossed the road and stepped inside. The noise hit first but was quickly followed by the heat. Body heat. Soul heat. The darkness stirred but didn’t test the steel that kept it bound. I hoped it remained that way.
I waited near the reception desk and, after a minute or so, a waiter wandered over. “You have a booking, madam?”
I nodded. “Under René.”
He ran a finger down the list, then nodded. “The gentleman has already arrived. This way, please.”
He turned and led me down the center of the long room that had a very Italian feel, though if anyone had asked me to pinpoint why, I couldn’t have. I was halfway down the room when I saw him. Our gazes met and, just for a second, the noise, the people, and the alluring glow of their life forces faded away, leaving nothing, no one, but him, me, and the desire that burned between us.
In that moment, I was absolutely certain of two things.
One, this man was utterly dangerous to my emotional health.
And two, I would end up in his bed before this case was over.
ChapterSeven
The urge to just turn and run, to save myself and my heart, was so damn fierce in that moment my steps actually faltered.
What was it about this man that scared me so much?
He was attractive—damnably so—but I’d spent most of my life in the company of attractive or powerful men, thanks to my father’s contacts. Was it the fact that he was obviously capable of powerful magic, even if there wasn’t the smallest tell on his person? Or was it more his soul silence? My inability to sense the shine of the man and thereby judge whether he was of the light rather than the dark? Surely not, given I’d spent most of my adult life wishing for such an island of peace.
He silently raised an eyebrow, as if in challenge. As if he was aware of the inner turmoil. And maybe he was, given I had no idea exactly what my expression might give away at this particular moment.
I forced my feet on. He rose as I approached, a warm, sexy smile tugging his full lips. He was wearing a crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up casually and just enough buttons undone at the top to reveal a sprinkling of chest hair, and dark jeans that fit him like a glove. He looked, well, divine.
I really am in trouble here...
“Here you are, madam,” the waiter said, stopping next to the booth. “I shall bring the menus over in a few minutes.”
“Thank you,” I said, and slipped onto the seat. “Evening, René. So good of you to come.”
Please, do come. Inside me, preferably....I shoved the thought away. Good grief, what was happening to me? Granted, it had been a damnably long time since I’d had sex, but still... were my hormones really this sex starved?
I rather suspected the answer tothatquestion was a mightyHell, yes!
He sat back down, his smile widening and devilment dancing through the glorious sapphire depths of his eyes. Almost as if, once again, he knew exactly what I was thinking. But that wasn’t possible, even if he were telepathic. I wore a shield against mental intrusions as a matter of course, and it had given no indication he was attempting to read me. He could be empathic, of course, or simply good at reading people.
“I made the reservation,” he said, his tone taking on a gravelly edge and the devilment getting stronger. “I wasalwaysintending to come.”
Dear God….I softly cleared my throat. “Well, Iamhere to interview you. That would put some men off.”
“I am not one of them. Plus, I hold on to the hope that you might linger over coffee with me.”
Over coffee, between the sheets... I pursed my lips and tried to get a grip. “Depends on the coffee. I have a reputation for being something of a coffee snob.”
