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“It will be wasted on me,” she said, waving it off. “I like sweet stuff.”
“Is that what you were drinking tonight?” he asked. “Sweet stuff?”
She nodded, taking the smaller glass he offered.
He sat beside her, soaking in her delicious scent. Instantly, he was rock hard and feeling frantic as a teenager.
Easy, Ra’as. She was just out with another male. She’s your nanny, not your plaything.
“So where did you go tonight?” he asked carefully, willing himself not to go into a jealous rage.
“A club,” she said, sipping the drink and then making a terrible face. “Wow, this stuff is pretty strong.”
“It’s not that strong,” he said dismissively. “Which club?”
It was odd for an Ulfgardian male to take a woman to any place where there might be other men. But maybe it was a small club with a private room.
He clenched his jaw at the thought.
“It’s called On the Howl,” she said.
Ra’as almost spit out his liquor.
“You’re telling me some bastard took you to a pick-up joint like On the Howl on your first date?” he demanded.
She sighed and looked down at her drink, trailing her index finger around the lip of it in a way that made his erection strain helplessly against his fly.
“I, um, wasn’t on a date,” she said softly.
“But you told me you were going on a date,” he said, unbelieving.
“No, you asked if I was going on a date, and I said it was none of your business,” she reminded him demurely.
He wasn’t sure if he wanted to strangle her or kiss her.
But she had still gone to one of the most infamous clubs in the city.
“What possessed you to go to On the Howl?” he asked.
“The agency said another nanny was having trouble with her family,” she said. “They wanted me to meet with her and they said that’s where she would be.”
He blinked down at her for a moment, and the pieces clicked together.
Emilia wasn’t the type to go off to a club to party. He knew her better than that already.
And of course, the agency wanted her to minister to this other nanny in crisis. He had no idea why they would send her to a club to do it, but it clearly wasn’t her fault.
Ra’as Drayven was starting to feel like a real ass.
“So, what was wrong?” he asked. “Did you help her?”
“I have no idea what was wrong,” she giggled.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“It was too loud in there to hear her,” Emilia said. “And when we got up to dance, she, um, met someone.”
“She met someone?” he echoed.
