Where Darkness Lives (Guardians of Eternity #7.75)(13)

Not that she thought Luc would intrude into her privacy. He might be overbearing when it came to protecting her, but he would never force himself on an unwilling woman.

Why would he?

He no doubt had an entire harem waiting for him back in Miami.

Refusing to consider why that thought made her wolf snarl, Sophia yanked off her camisole and shorts before entering her shower and turning the cold water on full blast.

A half an hour later she was dressed in a tiny yellow bikini with a matching sarong that fell to her knees tied around her slender waist. Her hair was pulled into a high ponytail and her expression was defiant.

She hadn’t chosen her favorite swimsuit to make Luc forget those females she was now convinced he must have left behind. That would be downright childish, she told herself as she made her way toward the delicious aroma of frying onions, garlic, peppers, and fresh tomatoes.

It was just that she always spent a few hours by the pool before heading to her club.

Of course, if it did make his jaw drop, then she wouldn’t complain.

Her cocky smile lasted until she stepped into the kitchen to catch sight of Luc standing beside the stove still dressed in nothing more than his silk boxers.

Instinctively her hand lifted to make sure no drool was dribbling down her chin.

Holy crap.

Most women would sell their souls to walk in and find this bronzed god fixing them breakfast.

Including her, she abruptly realized.

For a crazed moment she considered the pleasure of walking across the floor and wrapping her arms around his narrow waist to press herself against his back.

Then abruptly she recalled he wasn’t here because he’d been mesmerized by her charm. Or even because he thought she was hot.

He was here because her life was in danger. And while she didn’t doubt for a minute he would be more than happy to fulfill a few of her deepest fantasies, she would be a fool to think she would be anything but a convenient female body he was willing to use until it was time to move on.

She didn’t know why the thought should make her suddenly so grumpy, but she did know her fingers itched to toss a few of her Baccarat crystal glasses.

Instead she forced a casual smile to her lips as she crossed to the breakfast nook where the table was already set, complete with fresh roses from the garden.

“Making yourself at home?” she drawled, settling on a padded wicker chair.

Efficiently plating a mound of golden scrambled eggs that he covered with his chunky tomato sauce, he crossed to set it in the center of the table. Sophia breathed deeply, catching the spicy aroma of chilies and cumin and chopped oregano.

“You should be thanking me,” he murmured, taking a seat across the small table, his grin distinctly wicked. “I’ve had women begging on their knees for a taste of my huevos rancheros.”

That wasn’t the only thing they begged for, she silently acknowledged, piling her plate high with scrambled eggs before taking a sip of her freshly squeezed orange juice.

Heaven.

She glanced up to catch him watching her with an unreadable expression.

“Shouldn’t you be rigging up my alarm system or something?”

“We need to talk first.” He nodded toward her plate. “Eat.”

She rolled her eyes at his commanding tone. “Are you going to give me a treat if I roll over and play dead?”

His lips twitched. “What do you want from me?”

“Ask me, don’t order me.”

“Do I get credit for not throwing you over my shoulder and hauling you back to bed?” Heat blazed in his eyes as they skimmed down her nearly naked body. “That’s what my inner caveman is urging me to do. And my wolf agrees.”

So did her wolf.

It didn’t mind a bit of caveman.

Not when the end result was some raw, spectacular sex.

She shoveled the eggs into her mouth, barely taking time to savor the bold flavor as she cleaned her plate. Anything to distract her from the aching void between her legs that was becoming nearly unbearable.

Once finished, she pushed away her plate. It really had been delicious and she crankily wondered if there was anything that wasn’t perfect about this Were.

“What do you want to discuss?”

Having polished off his own plate, Luc settled back in his chair, his arms folded across his chest.

“A party.”

“Excuse me?”

“I want you to host a party.”

She slowly narrowed her gaze. “What kind of party?”

He gave a sudden laugh. “Not the kind you’re thinking of.”

“Now you can read my mind?” she muttered, pretending the maddening image of Luc floating in her hot tub with a covey of water sprites pleasuring his naked body hadn’t just flared through her mind.

He leaned forward, his hand reaching to cover hers. “I told you I’m not into public displays. Especially not when it comes to sex,” he assured her in a voice filled with husky promise. “I like it mano y mano with lots of privacy and lots of time.” The dark eyes flashed with sinful amusement. “And occasionally handcuffs.”

“Handcuffs?” She pretended his light touch wasn’t sending molten need through her veins. “Do you need restraints to acquire your dates? Or to keep them from escaping?”

He lifted her fingers to his lips. “Someday very soon I’ll show you exactly what I do with them.”