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Chapter Fifteen

“Ilikedyourdressbetter,” Marek said a while later as Olivia came out of her room in a white bathrobe. They’d returned to her quarters after Olivia declared she couldn’t work in the conference room anymore. Then, to Marek’s chagrin, had taken separate showers at Olivia’s insistence.

“Me too, but some monster decided to destroy it for his own convenience.” She looked absolutely ravishing in the simple robe, with her skin flushed from the shower and her hair haphazardly about her face. The robe was cinched tight around her waist, but the V down the front hinted at the curve of her breasts, breasts he hadn’t spent enough time kissing and exploring.

Marek forced out a teasing smile. “I’ll buy you another, but for now, what do you think about cuddling in bed naked while I translate?”

Desire fogged up those pretty brown eyes briefly before her lips set in a serious yet adorable frown. “Nope. We’re staying here. Dressed. Let’s get back to the translations.”

He gave her a long-suffering sigh. “If you insist on being boring, at least eat first.”

She sunk into the couch beside him and opened the food container. Her eyes closed as she sniffed and sighed happily. “This looks so good.”

As she ate her first bite, her moan of pleasure shooting directly to his groin, Marek’s gaze latched onto her neck. He gulped; his fangs ached painfully for a taste. It was a miracle he hadn’t drank from her during sex. How on earth had he stopped himself? His fingers fisted at his sides, and he shot to his feet.

He needed a drink. Fast. And not from his mate.

When he returned with three bottles of blood from the fridge, she was still making giddy noises as she ate. Honeyed warmth seeped through him at her happiness. He could’ve watched her for eternity.

“So just food, huh?” he asked, amused.

Her smile was as beautiful as the moon. “This is incredible.” She took another bite. Another moan that made him jealous of the damned pasta. “If food tasted like this all the time, I wouldn’t forget to eat at all.”

“Well, I have an easy solution.” He sipped from his bottle, it not tasting as heavenly as he imagined her blood to be. “Stay here. The Blue Fox will be your personal chef.”

“I can get used to this.”

His life would be complete if she looked at him with such loving tenderness as she did her food. Fuck. He couldn’t believe he was this far gone. Already willing to do anything to earn a smile from her.

Now if only he could bind them. To complete the mating bond.

Then everything would be perfect.

Why did he stop earlier? She’d been willing with her body, and he was certain with a little coaxing, she wouldn’t have said no.

Yet, even in the throes of passion, he’d known it was wrong to complete the bond without telling her.

Since when had he gained a conscience?

“Do you only drink synthetic blood?” Olivia’s question jolted him out of his thoughts.

“Most days. I only drink from the source if I need extra strength.”

“Extra strength? Like what?”

“If we’re hurt and need to recover. The bottled blood can slate our thirst, but it’s not as powerful or fast-acting as fresh blood.”

“You were shot at the hospital,” she said. “Did you drink from a human afterwards?”

“Not yet.” He’d had bagged blood, fresher than bottled, but still not from the vein. There hadn’t been feeders—humans employed by vampires to provide their blood—at the hospital. Yet, even after he’d returned to Vegas, he hadn’t wished to drink from anyone.

Anyone except Olivia.

“Why not?” She bit her lip, glancing at him then back at her food. “Shouldn’t you? To keep up your strength?”

Marek leaned forward and inhaled the scent of her sudden arousal. “What are you implying, Olivia?”

“N—nothing!” she squeaked.

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