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“How was the dress fitting?” he asks as he waves his hand toward the staff who bring out plates they set down in front of us. The presentation is gorgeous with finely chopped herbs around the edge of the porcelain, and in the center is a miniature bruschetta with smoked salmon and cream cheese. Adorning this beautiful appetizer is a dollop of caviar. I’ve only ever tried it once but am looking forward to tasting it again.

“It was good,” I tell him, meeting those eyes that seem to pierce right through me, searching for something deep within. Something I’m not willing to give him, not yet. But the moment I think it, I realize I need to offer him more, because if my plan is going to work, Lycan needs to believe this is becoming real. “I found a dress. It’s perfect.”

“I’m sure it is. Opal informed me she gave you the gift?” I watch him lift his wine glass, press it to his full, pink mouth, and take a long, languid sip. I can’t deny he’s handsome, more than I could ever have imagined a man to be, but he’s the bad guy.

“Yes. Thank you.” I turn my focus onto my food and lift the starter to my mouth to take a bite. As my teeth sink in, the flavors burst on my tongue. An involuntary moan vibrates in my throat, and when my gaze finds Lycan’s, heat burns in those gemstones.

“I’ve always enjoyed watching a woman feast. There’s something so erotic about it,” he murmurs. A small quirk at the corner of his mouth makes him look like a starving beast rather than a man.

“Oh?” I ask after swallowing the last bite. “Is that a line you use on all your women?” I taunt, causing fire to blaze in his stare. My stomach coils with both anxiety at taunting the wolf and desire at wanting him. Confusion twists its way through me like a coiling serpent about to strike. I can’t allow myself to fall into his trap.

“All my women don’t dine with me,” Lycan offers. “Yes, there are some who have accompanied me to parties, but none have seen the inside of my personal space. My home is mine.”

“So, you’ve never brought a woman home?” Incredulity thrums through the words, vibrating each syllable with confusion. He’s a handsome, wealthy bachelor, one who must have women falling over themselves to be with him.

“I’m not into relationships. I prefer…” He lifts his fingers to his lips, tapping on them gently as he considers what to tell me. And I find myself leaning forward, intrigued by how he’s about to explain his confession. “Women who aren’t around for very long.”

“So, you prefer escorts who leave after the deed is done?” Once again, I sound like I’m judging him, and perhaps I am in some way. I don’t have any right to, but the anxiety that took hold of me earlier turns to an emotion I cannot admit I’m feeling.

A chuckle falls free from Lycan’s mouth, his lips parted in a way that allows me a glimpse of pearly whites, while his face lights up in amusement. “No, little red,” he says. “I don’t pay women to fuck me.” His voice turns to lava, burning through every inch of my body, causing goosebumps to flare over my skin. “They beg, they plead, and they find bliss while I taunt and tease.” His gaze, locks on mine, and I’m caught in his web. I can’t turn away. “Would you like that, little red?”

My mouth pops open, but I can’t find the words. I’m saved when the staff returns, clearing our plates and bringing in the main course. I’m pleasantly surprised to find a bed of couscous covered with stir-fried vegetables. To the side is a thick, juicy steak, along with a salad made of lettuce, tomato, more herbs, and olives.

Once we’re alone, I feel his eyes on me, watching my reaction to dinner. Instead of looking at him, I focus on the plate and say, “This looks delicious.”

“It certainly does.” His response is low, gravelly, but I don’t have to lift my head to know he’s watching me. And his words have nothing to do with the meal before us. Lycan leans back in his chair but doesn’t deter his gaze from me. It’s as if flames of desire lick at my skin, traveling from my hand, teasing their way up to my wrist, forearm, and bicep. By the time they reach my shoulder, I shiver at the heat.

I’m not sure I can play this game with him. He’s far more experienced. There’s no way in hell I could ever win if he does this to me if I allow him to affect me in such a way. My lashes flutter when I feel his nearness reach for me. His hand lands on mine in a commanding gesture, and I realize why. I’d been trembling, holding the fork as it tinkled against the fine porcelain.

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