Wicked Bite (Night Rebel #2)(20)

He wagged a finger at me. “You tried to trick me first. Or am I supposed to believe you were struck with a sudden urge to kiss me that had nothing to do with an attempt to hit me with a knockout spell?”

Arrogant ass. “Maybe I did want to kiss you.”

His grin disappeared, replaced with an expression so intense, I had to look away. “Then prove it. Kiss me again.”

I was suddenly aware of how my legs were pressed against his and his mouth was only inches above mine. Worse, I could still taste him on my lips, smell his scent clinging to my body, and feel every flex of his muscles. I closed my eyes, trying to focus on anything except the near overwhelming urge I had to relinquish my control until we broke many of the long-standing ruins around us with our passion.

“Let me go, Ian.” The words were more than a request. They were practically a prayer.

My hands fell from his head as he broke the spell on me. At once, I was up and moving away, but he was faster.

“You know running from me won’t work. Besides, you owe me a date.”

That stunned me into stopping. “What?”

“A date,” he repeated, an impish smile curling his mouth. “A platonic one, though I can’t imagine how you got me to agree to that. Still, a promise is a promise, and you promised to let me show you a good time if we both survived.”

I stared at him. A new memory had almost split open his head, and he was talking about a date? “You can’t be serious.”

His eyes gleamed a richer shade of turquoise. “Never been more so. Still, if you’re not the type to honor your word—”

“I always honor my word,” I interrupted, then stopped when I caught a glimpse of Leah over Ian’s shoulder. She was doubled over with laughter. Trapped you again! she mouthed at me.

She was right, but Ian wouldn’t keep trapping me if I didn’t want to be caught. That was the simple, brutal truth.

And how could I leave him alone, anyway? He’d shown an absolute lack of interest in staying out of danger. Maybe agreeing to go on a date would get him to leave Greece, at least. Still, I couldn’t give in too easily. He’d smell a trap.

“Come on, Ian, I’m almost embarrassed for you,” I said. “You used to have thousands of people lining up to be with you. Now, you’re reduced to calling in an old promise for a date?”

He smirked as he came nearer. “That would be much more insulting if the scent of your desire wasn’t still covering me.”

“I kissed you to distract you,” I countered. “You just dropped from a memory before I could cast a spell on you.”

“Oh, you cast a spell on me, make no mistake.” All at once, his voice was a deep, sensual rasp. “One that’s more powerful because no magic was involved. I might not remember all of our time together, but I’m calling in your promise of a date because of what I do remember.”

I had to fight to keep my body from reacting to the new, rich timbre in his voice. He sounded that way in bed, and it made me feel dangerously weak.

“What do you remember?” I asked, my voice throatier than I intended it to be.

He leaned down, bringing his mouth next to my ear so that his words were a warm caress. “That’s for you to find out only if you accompany me on a date tonight.”

I should refuse. I should, but . . . again, I couldn’t trust him to stay out of trouble on his own. At least if I was with Ian, I could mitigate the amount of danger he could put himself in. If that didn’t work, I could always hit him on the head hard enough to knock him out, then imprison him in a suitably escape-proof dungeon. Vlad had one of those. I’m sure he’d save a space in it for Ian . . .

“One date,” I said.

His smile was a satin-lined trap closing around me. “You won’t regret it.”

I doubted that. I just didn’t know if I’d regret it sooner rather than later.





Chapter 10


Ian had already booked us on a flight to Paris. That’s how confident he’d been that I’d agree to this date. He hadn’t remembered to include Silver, but Ian mesmerized the flight attendant into adding Silver as my “emotional support” animal.

Then, he left me alone after checking the three of us into the Hotel Plaza Athenee. Our suite had two bedrooms, giving me privacy while ensuring that Ian and I were still under the same roof. He didn’t need such measures. I wasn’t going to sneak away. I’d decided on a new strategy for tonight.

It was afternoon—demon-free time—so I went shopping on the avenue Montaigne. Paris’s picturesque, tree-lined street was famous for its high-fashion stores. I bought my outfit from the most pretentious one, got a bite to eat from a store clerk, then went back to the hotel and spent a solid hour getting ready.

When I was done, my hair was in wire-stiff curls, heavy makeup covered my face, perfume covered my natural scent, gaudy jewelry dripped from my neck and ears, and my dress was a ridiculously expensive creation that only looked good on vastly underweight women. Even in my usual slender-formed glamour, it wouldn’t be flattering on me. In my true form, my curves bulged in all the wrong places, and its tight sheath meant I could only walk with mincing, delicate steps.

Ian had fallen for a warrior woman. I now looked like a spoiled fashion victim that would need assistance climbing into a cab. If I could conjure up a swoon at the presumed sight of danger, I would be the perfect repellant for him.