Page 96 of Imprisoned with the Vampire King

"When I'm right, you owe me a kiss."

"You can bite me, instead."

"That's not the deal."

"Fine." She opened her door at the same time I opened mine. "You have no chance of being right, but if you are, I'll kiss you."

We met at the hood of the car. When I offered her my elbow, she took it. That felt like a victory.

"It's weird to see you in a t-shirt," she whispered, as we walked through the front doors of the restaurant. It was busy, but not packed.

I could see two open tables, and I'd already made sure there was a booth waiting for us. It was tucked away near the back, so Ophelia would feel like she had a little privacy.

"You weren't comfortable with my button-down." I spoke into her mind.

She jumped a little, but didn't tell me not to talk to her that way.

Another victory.

We walked up to pair of hostesses who stared at me for a beat. They looked at Ophelia, and stared for much longer.

She stiffened a little.

I fought to stop the curve of my lips.

She didn't go out in public often enough to really notice the way people reacted to her. Now that I'd pointed it out, she would.

"Dusk. Party of two." I held up two fingers.

One of the hostesses elbowed the other one, and the one who'd been elbowed cleared her throat. She waved us after her, and we followed.

Ophelia eyed the first pair of male immortals we passed. They stared at her directly.

I resisted the urge to step in front of her, or make it clear to them in some way that she was mine. It was a ridiculous urge, and she needed to know how much people were drawn to her, so I suppressed it.

It was the same with every other table we passed, regardless of the immortals' gender or sexual orientation.

Ophelia finally spoke to me mentally as we neared the back of the restaurant. As expected, she didn't acknowledge anyone's attention.

"I'll try to adjust to talking to you this way. I can admit that it has its uses," she said.

"It's convenient, and I like the way it feels," I agreed.

"What? Why?"

"Not everyone despises feelings of intimacy, Ophelia. It's not a crime for me to enjoy feeling close to you."

She slid into the booth the hostess gestured us toward. It was big enough to fit four people.

After a beat of hesitation, I took a seat beside her on the bench, instead of across from her.

She looked at me.

I looked at her, too.

The hostess handed us menus before she walked away.

twenty