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She spotted a similar black SUV to the one he’d used the day before. “That our ride?”
“Yep.”
She glanced over her shoulder to make sure no one overheard. “What’s with paranormals and black SUVs? Seems like we buy every one coming off the production line. Lequare must’ve had thirty.”
“No one expects the Spanish Inquisition—er black SUV.” He hit the fob and the lights on the back of the vehicle blinked.
He knew Monty Python? His wide smile matched her own and tempted her to launch into a series of the comedy troupe’s iconic one-liners. She sobered.
She didn’t think it possible, but she wanted this demon even more.
CHAPTER8
“Jewelry. This is what you needed my opinion on?” Caro stood at the top of the steps leading into the showroom, with her hands on her hips and a sour turn to her mouth.
The more mundane human jewels, like amethyst, topaz, and diamonds, were expertly cut, set, and displayed in the cases closest to the entry. If you only wanted the best, fae fyre crystals shining brighter than diamonds were exhibited in a case against the back wall. Which is where Caro’s eyes seemed glued.
“I need to get someone a present since her birthday’s tomorrow.” Maybe he should’ve rethought this spur of the moment idea.
Caro’s brow arched, and she looked down her nose at him. “Her?”
He relaxed and suppressed a laugh at the little ‘O’ her mouth formed with her horrified expression before she’d schooled her features once more. She didn’t share. Good. One more thing in common with him.
“Yes. ‘Her.’” He held out his hand to Caro, a courtly gesture as if to help her descend the shallow steps further into the showroom.
She stared at his hand, then accepted his courtesy and continued into the sumptuously appointed space.
He tucked her hand into the crook of his arm so they could stroll together. Her tense muscles gratified him even more. Several steps later, he determined he shouldn’t keep his mate in suspense. He bent his head to hers and said, “She’s not my lover.”
Caro slowed to trail a hand and her attention on a case which exhibited an array of emeralds. “My apologies for my reaction. I’m not your lover either.”
Her neutral tone suggested disinterest. However, her arousal’s scent from those moments in Mel’s conference room still lingered with him. Already he stirred for her, and he could almost taste her on his tongue. “But you should be.”
“No, I shouldn’t.” Her gaze swung from the case, and she lifted her chin. “I’m not interested in a one-night stand.”
While he might’ve been insulted, he understood why she might have that impression. The stratified Sanguis society considered vampires ‘lesser.’ Though the king had recently been instituting reforms, among them the slackening of strict marriage rules to allow bonding to anyone without royal consent, the practice was hardly accepted among the larger demon society.
West halted, then tugged gently at their connection, and she swung to face him. Though she may have shuttered herself away behind a placid mask of indifference, she didn’t fool him. Her rapid breathing and refusal to meet his gaze contraindicated her words. With a gentle hand he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, then leaned down to murmur against the delicate shell, “I’m not interested in a one-night stand either.”
Her breathing stopped altogether, and she dipped her chin. After several moments, she lifted her shining gaze to his and opened her mouth, though no words emerged. In an instant, the hope extinguished, and she pivoted to the display next to her. “Does she like emeralds?”
He let her change the subject. “Not emeralds.”
She accepted his words and started forward once more, with her gaze reserved for the store’s wares.
While she wandered the cases, occasionally stopping to admire a finely worked piece, he paced her, attempting to mute to the savagely sexual demands of a demon. No amount of verbal coaxing or force would change her mind. This would be her decision.
His heart cramped in his chest at the idea she wouldn’t be able to accept him. Understandable. More than a one-night stand could mean a relationship. She’d been in a profession where people preyed upon emotion like a weapon. The job demanded someone believe the ends justified the means, or there would be no sleep at the end of the day. How had she grown up to be able to divorce herself from the collective conscience which governed normal human society? He cataloged the small amount of time he’d spent with her. The flashes of humor and fear he’d seen had been quickly boarded up. No doubt exhibiting any emotion, maybe even the mere presence, made her uncomfortable.
She stopped at the ruby case. This one held far more pieces than all other displays, except for the fyre crystals. He perused the necklaces, bracelets, rings, and earrings surrounding a tiara. The jeweler sold only the finest stones sourced from around the worlds, both human and fae. These blood-red gems would be natural and not heat treated to enhance their color. These were magnificent, truly rare gems. “You like rubies?”
A wry smile shadowed her lips. “I don’t, but if the woman you’re buying for is a demon, she would. Those or fyre crystals.”
Satisfaction curled through him with her perception. “Why?”
“Both are costly and proclaim status. Obviously, the fae gems are more expensive, though due to their color rubies seem to hold a special place in Sanguis hearts.”
How she’d hit the nail on the head suggested she’d studied the clan. His sister liked both, but preferred rubies. He’d eyed one for her already. Which would Caro choose? “Is there a piece you think I should buy?”
