Where Darkness Lives (Guardians of Eternity #7.75)(19)

“You still have guests.”

“They aren’t waiting around for my company,” she said, the bite in her voice unmistakable. “Just try to keep the noise down. We don’t want to be busted by the neighborhood watch.”

A slow, wicked smile curved his lips. “Why, Sophia. Are you jealous?”

Holding herself rigid, she met his teasing gaze. “I’m a Were.”

“And?”

“And we don’t get jealous.”

His humorless laugh echoed through the kitchen. “If that were true then I wouldn’t have waited outside your club for that damned imp to show up just so I could make it clear he wasn’t to so much as smile at you during your meeting.”

She blinked in surprise at his blunt confession. As she should. He’d felt like a dork waiting for the imp to make his scheduled appointment with Sophia and then accosting him as if he were some lethal assassin instead of a harmless liquor distributor.

Of course that didn’t stop him.

He’d been compelled to make sure the fey understood that Sophia belonged to him.

“I wondered why Andrew looked like he’d just swallowed his tongue,” she muttered.

“He was lucky he still had a tongue after I watched him whispering sweet nothings in your ear,” he said dryly.

She sniffed, folding her arms over her chest. “At least he wasn’t groping me like an octopus.”

Ah. She was jealous.

Thank God.

“Are you referring to Kirsten?” he asked in an overly innocent tone.

Her eyes narrowed. “I’ve never cared for cold-blooded leeches, but to each his own I guess.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

Not giving her time to react, Luc scooped Sophia off her feet and headed out of the kitchen.

“What are you doing?”

She frowned, but astonishingly she made no effort to struggle out of his grasp. Or even to rip out his throat.

Progress.

“We need to talk.”

“Then talk,” she muttered.

He crossed the foyer and easily jogged up the curved staircase, using the excuse to press her tight against his chest.

“In private.”

“What about your groupies?”

“They’ll eventually find easier game.” He held her petulant gaze, not bothering to hide his smoldering desire. “This one’s already been bagged and tagged.”

She licked her lips as he stepped into her bedroom and kicked shut the door behind them.

“Luc.”

Still holding her gaze, which was now wary, he gently set her on her feet in the middle of the room, his hands resting on her nicely rounded hips.

“We won’t be interrupted here.”

She arched a brow. “And that’s the only reason you chose my bedroom?”

His grip tightened on her hips, his already hardened c**k throbbing with an eager plea for attention, but with an effort he forced himself to concentrate on business before pleasure.

Later ...

Oh, the things he intended to do.

“Tell me what you learned from the nymph.”

Her lips thinned at his commanding tone, but she wasn’t a fool. She had to sense he was hanging on by a thread.

As if his raging erection didn’t give it away.

“She was the one harassing me.”

“You’re sure?”

“She’s not the brightest bulb,” she said dryly. “With a little prompting she confessed to writing the notes and leaving dead animals and slashing my tires. Oh, and throwing the brick through my window.” She made a sound of disgust. “Bitch.”

He nodded. He’d pegged the nymph for the childish pranks, but it was nice to have it confirmed.

“And the attempts on your life?”

“She was clueless.”

“You believe her?”

“Yes.” She nodded without hesitation. “She might be a flake, but she’s not bloodthirsty enough to try to kill me.”

“So there are two separate enemies.” Luc felt a piece of the aggravating puzzle slide into place. It wasn’t that the harassment was escalating. It was that they were traveling separate paths. “One mystery solved.”

She tilted back her head to regard him with a lift of her brows.

“What about you?”

“Me?”

“You were the one who insisted that I host this ridiculous shindig,” she tartly reminded him. “Did you learn anything besides Cindy’s bust size?”

“Cindy?”

“The mortal who was worshipping at your feet.”

“Ah.” He allowed his fingers to trail over her lower back, male enough to enjoy her pique. “Was she the brunette or the redhead? They all start to look alike.”

“You ...”

He pressed a finger to her lips, halting her furious words. “I’ve started the process.”

She shook off his hand, her eyes narrowing. “What the hell does that mean?”

He reached into the side of his Speedo to pull out a small key.

“This.”

She snorted, unimpressed. “A key?”

“I lifted it from Kirsten when she was trying to stick her tongue down my throat,” he explained.