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“Lady’s choice.”
I pursed my lips, pretended to think about it. “Perhaps I need to sample said dessert, just to see if it’s worth my time.”
“More than happy to provide said sample.”
He moved around the long counter that separated us but didn’t claim his seat next to me as I’d half expected. Instead, he brushed my hair from the nape of my neck and then kissed my bare shoulder, his lips so warm against my skin. Delight skidded through me, and I closed my eyes, savoring the sensations that tumbled through me as his kisses trailed from my shoulder to my neck and then on to my ear.
“Enough? Or shall I go on?”
“Oh, please,” I murmured huskily, “do go on.”
He chuckled softly. “As my lady wishes.”
His lips left my skin, but only long enough to turn my barstool around. He dropped tender kisses on my forehead and my cheeks before finally claiming my mouth. But this kiss was no tease; it was searing hot, filled with desire and demand. It left me breathless. Left me wanting. Badly.
“Does the sample please my lady?” His heated breath brushed my kiss-swollen lips, and his blue eyes gleamed with heat and hunger.
“It does.” It was little more than a breathless whisper.
“Shall I continue?”
“Please do.”
“With pleasure.” He slipped his fingers under the dress’s straps and slid them down my shoulders. I wasn’t wearing a bra, and his gaze devoured me, leaving me hot and breathless and wishing he’d eat me in truth.
When he did, I could only groan in complete and utter bliss.
I was right on the edge of coming when the phone rang sharply. Aiden stopped, and my groan became one of frustration.
“I have to take that.”
“I know.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I know.” I lifted his face to mine and kissed him softly. He tasted of heat and desire and me. “Go.”
With a low growl, he pushed to his feet and strode across the room. “This had better be—”
He stopped. Though my hearing had sharpened over the last few months, I could still only hear one side of the conversation. But that was enough to know there’d been another murder. I slipped off my stool and quickly redressed.
“Be there in twenty.” He hung up and thrust a hand through his thick hair. “We’ve got another death.”
“The Manananggal?”
“At this point, unknown.” He frowned at me. “Why are you dressing?”
“Because you’ve still got her spell tangled around your fingers and this might be another trap.”
“Tala’s called Monty in—”
“Yes, but that spell could be activated at any—”
“Then disconnect it.”
“I don’t know—” I stopped the instinctive denial. It was a simple enough tracker and inactive at that. Detaching the thing really shouldn’t be that hard. “Raise your hand.”
He did so. I studied the spell, trying to ignore the vein of darkness that ran through its threads and the responding goose bumps that fled across my skin. After several minutes of looking for weak points and possible traps, I began to spell, wrapping my magic around the anchoring thread, ensuring it was kept whole and alive before disconnecting it from Aiden’s skin. There was no change in the spell’s makeup as I pulled it free; it hung from my fingers by a single thread, an inert ball of twisted evil.
