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Exactly what I’d said.

I had nothing to add, and instead rustled the contract in my hands. “It does seem thorough.”

“Adam, Zodiac was quite clear. He doesn’t want you involved in his life there.”

“I’m aware.” His words still cut deep, and if I thought about them, a knot tightened my throat. “But I don’t give up, not when it’s important.”

Reynard nodded, and sat back in thought a while. “I’d like to apologize for my behavior at Razorsedge.”

“It’s nothing.” I waved him off and stared hard at the contract, so I didn’t have to see his eyes or his handsome face, or the way the top button of his shirt was missing, making his collar gape, or how his precise fingers played with a hotel coaster. “You weren’t to know Sebastien had a gun, and I suppose the gargoyle knew the risks when he signed up to protect Sebastien.”

“Not that. I meant in the room. Between us. You’ve been resistant to my suggestions before, and honestly, I forgot you’re human. I have become careless around you. Please, accept my sincerest apologies.”

Yeah, no, that wasn’t what happened. “Like I said, it’s nothing.” I stared harder at the contract.

“Well, it’s not nothing. Consent is a large part of what makes this hotel work, and what I did to you was nonconsensual. I wouldn’t want it to get in the way of our friendship⁠—”

“You don’t need to explain.” Please stop explaining.

“I’d never knowingly hurt you, I owe you a great⁠—”

“Yes, okay, it’s fine.”

“Adam.”

He lifted my gaze to his stern face. He seemed pained to think he’d persuaded me to do something I didn’t want to do. Oh dear, I was going to have to tell him the truth. Or some of it. “You didn’t coerce me. You can’t. I wanted it. It was all me. You didn’t do anything wrong. Don’t apologize.”

“But I . . . You were clearly smitten.”

I placed the contract down and sighed. “I may be the tiniest bit not human—just a smidge, like one percent not human. Zero-point-one percent. I’m mostly human. All the important bits, but not those bits. I mean, some other parts of me . . .” He was staring oddly, and those perfect eyes had begun to narrow with suspicion. “It could be, probably isn’t, might be, that I am immune to your persuasion, so erm . . . yeah. You didn’t do anything to me, because you can’t.”

Tom Collins dropped and smashed a glass. “Shit!”

Reynard cast him a sideways glance, then flicked his gaze back to me. “Indeed.”

I fixed Reynard’s gaze under mine. It was time to make one thing very clear to the vampire lord. “You can’t break me, Victor.”

He swallowed, then briefly looked away, before facing me again. “Then what happened in that room was consensual?”

The part in Razorsedge where he’d gotten all bossy, and I’d gotten all hot, as though I’d been shoved into a power outlet, and my brain turned to goo while other parts of me got real hard? That part? “That was, uh, all me. I guess.” Mercy, someone kill me now. There was little point in denying my desires now. It was probably best to lay it all on the table. “Look, I have a little thing for you.” I poked at a coaster, keeping my head down. “Kind of always did. And then we went dancing, before your family kidnapped me, and the thing got worse—or better, I’m not sure. And we uh . . . You remember? On the deck outside the dance club. I don’t know if that was genuine, or just to lure your wife out of hiding, but I liked it, and I’m really not in a good place right now to deal with all this, so can we maybe not talk about it and just pretend the red room didn’t happen?”

The jukebox had stopped playing. I peeked up, and found him motionless, and staring.

He swallowed, and sat back. “I see. Right. Yes. Of course. It did not happen. As you say.”

We all fell quiet, and now it was really awkward—crawl into a hole kind of awkward. I was going to need a Tom Collins drink.

“In that case, you should know, it was genuine,” he said. “Or, more correctly, I was being genuine when we kissed on the deck outside the dance club, prior to my spouse’s ultimately fatal arrival. I’ve rarely had such a fine evening. Killing my wife was the perfect digestif. Unfortunately, you were taken, and what happened after is best forgotten. But prior to that? Yes, a fine evening, indeed. And fine company.”

My heart thumped. “Oh.” Wait, he liked me? Not just as food? Or was that what he meant? “So uhm, in Razorsedge last night, that was real then?” The whole growly, “Tell me you want me, Adam.” That had been real?

“Invigoratingly so.” He reached across the table and tentatively brushed his fingertips over the back of my hand, as though fearing I might reject him. Which was ridiculous.

Mercy, our hands were touching, fingers stroking, and it was nice.

Tom Collins slammed a bottle onto the bar, startling both of us. We jerked our hands back and glared.

Tom tutted. “You can fuck later, after you’ve saved my best performer so I can sell more fucking overpriced drinks and make this rundown excuse for an establishment profitable. You think patrons come to this bar for the atmosphere? No, they visit to lust after Zodiac and get drunk, courtesy of yours truly.” He tugged on his bow tie. “The profit on my liquid creations is fivefold. So, pack your little Bella-and-Edward drama away, and go save the one unique selling point this rundown hotel has. You may fucking thank me later.”