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“You shouldn’t show too much skin. They will long for your blood.”
“If you can resist my blood, so can they.”
Resisting isn’t the same as not wanting,he wanted to say but bit his tongue. “Where are you getting all this confidence?”
“From your confidence,” she replied easily. “From Hilda’s lessons and watching how you move. I’m here with a purpose. The outfit is the perfect distraction…Hello, Mr. Evans.”
Damon Evans eyed her like he would the women he hunted during parties to take home for the night, not caring whether it was a vampire or a human. The hunger had Nate’s back going up, but Damon’s words were polite.
“You look very lovely tonight, Winter.”
“So do you, Damon.”
Damon grinned, proudly displaying his bare chest oiled up. He took her hand and kissed her knuckles, lingering, then didn’t let go.
“I must insist on a dance. I want to watch all that glitter shimmering while you move. Wouldn’t you like to witness the same thing, Nate?”
Nate knew the guy was a valuable source of information, particularly since House Evans had been one of the houses that Nicholas had mentioned. But the way Damon was already caressing her hand had instinct screaming at him to say no.
“I’m sure he would,” she crooned, then shifted her hold and tugged Damon to the dance floor instead. “Come on. A dance for an old friend.”
She gave Nate a meaningful look, in line with his speculation over Damon, and there was nothing he could do but watch as they danced. It started awkwardly until the two picked up their rhythm, lost in animated conversation. Damon moved in to whisper in her ear, and her eyes widened before she threw her head back in merry laughter—a sound that caused a few heads to turn and more than one vampire’s gaze to linger on her neck.
Nate took a glass of champagne and drank. A roar started in his head, dim at first then growing, and it was all he could not to throw himself in between them and punch Damon’s face off. He wanted to whisk her away so these people would stop looking at her like she was their next source of blood. But that was only partially true, because he wanted to whisk her away to see if she would laugh for him like that, too, all open and throaty, before she let him touch all that skin to see if it was as soft as it looked. He wanted that sparkly smile on him, wanted that lavished attention. He wanted sparkling to turn hot and bothered, only for him.
But it was never going to happen because he had set the boundaries himself, and Winter was determined to get on with the deal—even if it included flirting like mad with the potential enemy.
“Easy there. He can’t do more than that. Everyone knows who she is.”
It took him a second to register that his knuckles were white, and Rebekah was covering them with her own. It was gone quickly as she drank her champagne, too.
“Yet he’s trying.”
“Who wouldn’t? He asked, and you didn’t say no. She couldn’t very well reject him, so she took the lead and decided to play nice.” Rebekah paused. “It’s a game I played a lot, too, when I was navigating your world and wasn’t sure of my place.”
That had him glancing at her in speculation. “Matthew always had your back.”
“I know, but a lot of people didn’t. You have hers, and that’s what’s making her go out there and risk herself to try to get along with others. We are playthings to them until we prove ourselves.”
It didn’t bode well with him, but he couldn’t tell Rebekah about the deal yet, either, no matter how he trusted House Chatterley. Laughter rang out again as Winter trudged back towards them, flushed through her tan and all the more delectable for it. Damon’s hunger was still visible, but an admiring look accompanied it this time. The man kissed her hand one more time, then the other as a teasing. Winter fluttered her lashes and waved him off, then returned to them.
“Hi. I would ask you to dance, but I don’t think—”
“Sure. Let’s dance.”
A sound came from her throat at his reply before they were on the dance floor. But instead of wriggling and gyrating, he guided her hands on his shoulders, placed his on her hips, and gently swayed them. Like before, he pressed his mouth on her head while she nuzzled his chest, hiding her lips.
“You danced quite intimately with Damon.”
“It was for show.”
“I know it was. This is also for show.”
“We are not dancing with the beat.”
“We don’t care about the beat when we are together.”
She fell in line with that, and soon it felt like they were in a world of their own.
