Page 17

His gaze is much more intense than Kyrin’s.

Each time I catch him looking at me, a new flush hits my cheeks, making me shift in my seat.

Tattoos peek out from under his collar and the cuffs of his sleeves.

The vixen inside of me, the one I haven’t let out in a very long time, begs me to crawl beneath the table and rip his clothes from his skin to see what other treasures lie beneath the fabric veiling him.

When the waitress comes, I’m desperate for the distraction.

Elias orders, his eyes on me as he orders for me in French, and I can’t deny that I’m inwardly purring at the attention and the way his expert tongue caresses the language.

I’m given a steak, paired with asparagus and a red wine that complements all the flavors, and I tune them out as I devour my meal. They talk in coded words because I’m at the table, leaving me once again feeling like shit for coming.

When I can no longer take each look I find landing on me, I excuse myself to the ladies’ room, even though I don’t have to use it.

I just need to get out of Elias’s gravitational pull for a while before I fucking lose it.

Taking in the deep flush of my cheeks, I turn on the sink. Hands filled with ice-cold water, I lean down and drench my face a few times before reaching for a napkin and drying it, shaking my head at myself and the way I’m behaving.

I have the worst taste in men, so I know neither of them is good for me. I also have enough baggage to fill their estate and then some, so I’m not the best for anyone else, either.

Not until I deal with my shit, which I might never be ready to do…

I feel a hand at my hip, and I squeal.

I turn quickly and find Elias behind me.

He crowds me backward, and my ass digs into the counter. Dropping his face mere inches from mine, he asks, “Who the fuck are you, Ms. Seraphine Thomas?” he whispers against my lips.

I lean closer, instead of pushing him away.

“Why are you here?” He moves his face to my neck and runs his lips across my throbbing pulse, rocketing it out of this world.

I let out a slight moan, and it echoes through the bathroom.

“I am—” What was the question, again?

When he runs his nose along my cheek, his face dancing close to mine again, he teases his tongue along my jaw.

I feel as though if he doesn’t kiss me, I’ll die.

The staff at this very fancy establishment will find my body on the floor of this bathroom after closing, long after this man has finished devouring me and moved on.

It’ll make for great news, as small as this town is.

“Answer me, petit corbeau,” he growls.

Little Crow?

Typically, a nickname would annoy me, piss me off, even. But the tone in which he said it and the nearness of his mouth to mine have me teetering on the edge of a maddening cliff, one steeper than the estate is perched atop, and I’m ready to dive over the edge to feel the rush of the icy waters cool my blood.

“I work for Mr. Valdrich. Lucien, that is.”

He pulls back abruptly. Anger fills his face as he leaves the bathroom, the door swinging in his haste and giving me a slight reprieve of a breeze.

I turn and bend over the sink, breathing in air I hadn’t realized I’d been desperately deprived of in Elias’s presence.

Lust is boiling in my veins, and I don’t even want to think about the mess my panties are in right now.