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He laughed softly. "Shall I try and book a table at Wren's?"
Wren's was the latest "it" spot for all of Melbourne's high flyers and, as such, had a waiting list months long. Luckily for us, Quinn knew the owner and most times could get us squeezed in. We'd been there five times now, and I adored the food. Mainly because Wren's was rare in the world of fine dining-it actually served enough food to keep even a hungry werewolf happy.
"If you get us a table, I'll love you forever."
"If only you would," he said, with another laugh. The sound washed across my senses as sweetly as a caress and made my body tingle with desire. "What time?"
I glanced at my watch. It was just after six-thirty now, and Wren's was in the heart of Toorak, which was always a hassle to get to.
"I can be there by seven-thirty."
"You really are hungry."
"And maybe not just for food," I said cheekily. "I hope you're not wearing an expensive suit, vampire, because I fully intend to rip it off later."
"Be my guest. It'll be worth the loss."
I grinned. "See you in an hour."
I hung up then walked into the bathroom, having a quick shower and drying my hair before heading for my bedroom. Wren's was posh, so I grabbed a form-fitting black skirt that was split up the left side, and a sexy black jacket for warmth. The jacket was short, barely skimming my waist, and the neckline plunged enough to show glimpses of my lacy red bra. I had matching panties, but I didn't put them on. There was something delicious about going without them. To complete the outfit, I chose four-inch red stilettos-the ones with the wood heels, of course. Mainly because Jack had a habit of calling me out to a job at the most awkward times, and the wooden stilettos had come in handy as a weapon more than once.
Quinn was already waiting in front of the glass and chrome building when I arrived. He was dressed semi-formally in black pants and a neat pale-pink shirt that was roughly rolled up to the elbows, and he was holding a black jacket casually over his shoulder. He looked absolutely wonderful.
His gaze met mine for a moment, then swept down my length, and the desire that stirred the air when he looked up again was powerful enough to make my wolf soul want to howl.
"You look fantastic," he said, swinging around and offering me his free arm.
I laughed softly. "I was just thinking the same about you."
"Then we're well matched." The gray-clad doorman opened the door and gave us a nod. Quinn continued, "Frances couldn't give us a table tonight."
Disappointment ran through me, then stalled as I saw the amusement in his bright eyes. "I'm sensing there's a 'but' to that statement."
"But I booked out the starlight function room for us instead."
I stared at him for a moment, then laughed. "That room is huge."
"So is, I presume, your appetite, because I have preordered all your favorites. Besides, what is the point of being a billionaire if I cannot splurge occasionally?"
I grinned. "I guess this means we'll have to make sure you get your money's worth."
The look he gave me just about smoked my insides, and it was all I could do to stop myself dancing with excitement.
Frances Wren, owner and chief hostess of the business, approached as we neared the maitre d's station. She was a tall, willowy woman with perfect blond hair and sapphire colored eyes. She was also over five hundred years old, and didn't look a day over twenty. Vampirism did have its benefits.
"Quinn," she said, her Irish accent far more pronounced than his ever had been. "It's lovely to see you again."
He gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "I hope I'm not pushing my luck by booking at such short notice."
"The room wasn't being used, so it's hardly a problem. Besides, I owe you far more than a table a couple of times a week." She turned her attention to me, and her smile radiated a warmth that had my own lips reacting. "Riley. Lovely to see you again."
"Are you sure opening the starlight room for just the two of us isn't going to be a problem?"
She gave Quinn an amused look. "Rest assured, it isn't. And he did tell me it was a matter of life or death. For his clothes, that is."
"He might have been right."
She laughed softly. "This way, please."
