For years, she’d tried to hide her full figure. No amount of dieting would produce the skinny look so popular with glamour magazines. She dreamed of the day that the hourglass came back into fashion.
“A man should like you for who you are,” she told her reflection. No other option was acceptable.
Would tonight be the night? Not likely. She cursed Sarah for planting the thought in her mind. Or maybe they were her thoughts, which meant her friend was finally rubbing off on her.
Madie shimmied into the lingerie and dressed quickly, giving herself no time to chicken out.
The black outfit she chose was businesslike, but also sexy. It struck just enough of a balance to make her feel secure, confident. The skirt hugged her curves, showing them to her best advantage. She added a tight black V-neck sweater that displayed her generous cleavage. A quick dab of perfume behind her ears and she was ready.
For the life of her, Madie didn’t know why she was worried. This was just dinner.
Her mind flashed to his naked form.
Who was she trying to fool? Madie knew she was hoping for far more than food…eventually.
The bell buzzed at seven-thirty on the dot. Madie peeked out the peephole. Damon stood outside her door dressed in a deep brown suit. In his hand was a bouquet of blood red roses.
Madie took a deep breath, pasted a smile on her face, and opened the door. The intoxicating floral scent engulfed her as she stared at Damon.
His face had been freshly shaven, accentuating his chiseled jawline. The ends of his whiskey-colored hair were damp, curling enticingly over his collar. The expensive suit made his shoulders look impossibly wide, and those hazel eyes. . .
He was a walking, talking Molotov cocktail of sexuality. A truly lethal combination destined to make her heart explode and her underwear melt away.
Damon smiled and handed over the blooms.
“Thank you.” Madie grasped the roses tight, holding them to her chest.
Desire flared in Damon’s eyes as his gaze traveled over her body, carefully taking in all the curves. After his leisurely perusal, he shifted his attention back to her face, lingering on her mouth. The air heated around them, making her painfully aware that they were alone.
“You look utterly delectable.” Damon smiled, his appreciation genuine.
Madie blushed, but remembered to invited him in.
She smoothed her hand down her outfit, over her not too subtle curves. The lace on her thong tickled across her belly and backside. Madie desperately needed to pull the creeping material out, but that wouldn’t be very sexy.
“Please, take a seat.” She managed, hoping her nervousness wasn’t as obvious as it seemed. “Would you like something to drink?”
“What do you have?” Damon sat on the couch.
“Not much. Just tea, OJ, and water. I don’t really have people over,” she admitted.
***
He looked around, since in his rush to eliminate the threat last night he hadn’t gotten the chance. “OJ would be great.”
Damon knew that she didn’t have people over. He’d already scented her place. For some reason, it made him unduly pleased that Madie didn’t have men around.
Not that he cared one way or the other. It was just nice not to have any interruptions.
As Madie disappeared into the kitchen, his eyes followed her swaying bottom until she was out of sight. He glanced around the small living room. It had few homey touches, mainly art pieces from her classes.
A number of photos sat on a curio shelf. Damon walked over and picked up a photo, lightly caressing the frame with his fingertips. It showed Madie’s smiling face, when she was a child. She was seated next to a blonde-haired woman with similar features, obviously her mother, the resemblance astonishing.
Beauty ran in the family.
In the other photo, her smile had been replaced with a frown. She looked tiny and overwhelmed, surrounded by men with bright red hair and grim expressions.
Damon bristled.
He knew those men by reputation, without knowing their names. The oldest man’s eyes were cold, almost dead. He looked as if his soul had long since departed his body, leaving behind an iron-hard shell of a man.
Gaston…
Madie returned, teetering in her high-heeled boots, carrying two glasses of OJ. Her smile radiated from within and Damon found himself responding despite his resolve to keep a part of himself distant.
“Thank you.” He took a glass from her unsteady hand. “How did you sleep?”
She smiled. “Not bad all things considering.”
“Have you heard anymore from the police?”
Her smile dropped. “Yes, they phoned this morning. They didn’t go into any details, but they did mention that there have been several robberies in the area. I think they think last night was a robbery gone bad.”
“What do you think?” Damon asked. “Now that you’ve had some time to sleep on it.”
“Honestly, I don’t know what to think.” She glanced at the picture in his hand. “That’s my father’s side of the family. I look like a cotton ball in that picture.”
“You definitely stand out,” he said.
“I don’t look like I belong to any of them, except Mom.” Madie pointed to the picture next to it. “They’re a grim bunch when they are around, but I suppose since they’re family that you’ve got to love them.” She laughed.
Damon flinched. “They’re not around anymore?”
“No, that was our last family reunion. It’s probably been fifteen years ago. Some have passed on, since that photo was taken. My other uncles and cousins live all over the planet. It’s hard to keep up with them,” she said.
He doubted she’d love them so much, if she knew what they did for a living. Perhaps she already knew. Madie gazed at the photos lovingly. Damon tensed. He didn’t want to hear about her emotions. His were doing their best to interfere with the task at hand. He didn’t need to know any more personal things about her, unless they helped him with his goal, which was to bury himself between her thighs and retrieve the Book of Lycan. The sex would get her out of his system once and for all and hopefully break the Hunter line of succession in the process. It had to work.
For his sake—and hers.
“Your family wouldn’t happen to be related to the Valois’ from France?” He found himself asking despite his resolve.
Madie hesitated. Fear shadowed her eyes. “Why do you ask?”
“I’ve heard that the family has an antique collection of first edition books. As an art collector, I’m interested in a lot of different mediums.”
Madie exhaled and the tension in her shoulders relaxed.
“I’m sorry, did I say something wrong?” Damon hoped he hadn’t played his hand too soon.
She shook her head. “No, not at all. I just thought you might have been referring to something else. It’s not important.”
Damon changed the subject. “It’s a shame you don’t live around more of your family.” He indicated to the picture.
“It’s probably a good thing.” Madie laughed.
“Why would you say that?” he asked.
“My uncles had some kind of falling out with my father. They’re no longer speaking.” She shrugged like it was no big deal, but sadness crept in her voice.
“I’m sorry.” What was he saying? It was better for all Moonlight Kin, if the family rift continued.
“Don’t be. It’s been a while and it really doesn’t hurt near as much as it did in the beginning. To be honest, we don’t have a lot in common.”
Damon studied her. Today she smelled like apple blossoms in the spring, succulent and tempting. Too tempting. He sniffed again trying to pick up her natural scent.
Her hormones shifted. In another day or so, Madie would be in heat. Luperca help him, when that happened. He already found her hard to resist.
Damon’s cock hardened as his body digested the news. His mouth started to water. He tried to concen
trate on drinking the orange juice, but it was no use. He took a couple of sips and dropped the glass on the end table, spilling some in the process.
“I’m sorry.” He ran a trembling hand through his hair. “We better go. Our reservation is for eight-thirty.” His voice came out in a low rasp.
Madie grabbed a towel from the kitchen and bent over to mop up the juice. Her bottom tilted up another inch as she reached across the table. With every swirl of the rag, her hips jerked.
Damon rubbed his itchy palms along his pants. He had to get her out of her apartment or he’d end up taking her right here and now.
Chapter Fourteen
Madie’s heart raced as they pulled up to the restaurant in Damon’s Jaguar. After parking, he escorted her inside, resting his hand at the small of her back. The heat from his palm burned right through her sweater, making her skin tight.
Neptune’s flashed in blue neon at the entrance. It wasn’t much to look at from the outside, just your standard eastern seaboard whitewashed brick, but inside it was warm and cozy. A crackling fire blazed in an over-sized hearth of worn stone on one wall. The rest of the rectangular room was bracketed by floor to ceiling windows.
White linen tables were spread about the space, along with a smattering of booths. The candlelight from each table flickered enticingly like jewels upon a foamy sea. The flames danced as the bustling staff stirred the air. There appeared to be a good view from every seat.
They checked their coats at the door. The hostess, a plump woman in her late forties gave Damon a secretive smile, but he didn’t seem to notice. The woman led them toward a table next to a window.
When they reached their table, Damon’s eyes locked on Madie’s face. He gave her a slow, sensual smile. Her breath caught as he moved behind her. His fingers casually brushed her arm, as Damon pulled her chair out and waited for her to take a seat.
The innocent touch singed her to the bone. Madie sat down. She’d been on so few dates in her life and none had come close to giving her this kind of treatment. Almost all the men that she’d encountered had arrived on her doorstep via her father’s matchmaking.
They didn’t care about her, only her inheritance. Damon treated her like a lady, like she was more than just an obligation. He didn’t know Gaston and he didn’t need her money. It was refreshing.
Madie smiled and decided to enjoy herself. What she did or did not do with Damon Laroche was her choice, and her choice only.
Damon took his seat. A waitress arrived with menus and a wine list.
“Would you like a glass of wine?” he asked, scanning the vintages.
“Red, I think.” She pondered for a second before deciding what to order for dinner. “Definitely, red.”
Damon arranged for a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon to be brought to the table, along with a crab appetizer. They placed their orders for the main course, then the waitress scurried off.
He turned to Madie. “Trust me, you’ll love this.”
The wine was dropped off discreetly. Damon swirled the wine in his glass, then held it up to the flame of the candle to examine the color. “Looks good.” He inhaled, then took a sip. “Tastes even better, though I think it may need to breathe some more.”
Madie followed his lead, so that it appeared that she knew what she was doing. The ruby colored liquid slipped over her tongue and down her throat, leaving the taste of currants and a trail of wonderful warmth behind.
The appetizer arrived as they finished their first glass of wine. Damon selected a crab-filled pastry square and held it up to Madie’s mouth.
She looked around the restaurant. Couples dotted the corners, laughing and chatting over their candlelit dinners. No one looked in their direction. Flushed from the wine and being too close to Damon, Madie nervously shifted in her seat.
“It’s just the two of us. Nobody is watching.” His eyes dared her to accept his offering.
Madie opened her mouth and the buttery delight slid inside, melting on contact. Crab juice squirted out the center as she bit down. She closed her eyes for a moment and savored the succulent morsel. “That is delicious.”
“Told you.” Damon brushed a bit of crumb and butter from the side of her mouth with a slow swipe of his finger. His hazel eyes ignited against the candlelight as he raised that same finger to his mouth and sucked it, his tongue lapping the remnants of butter.
Madie imagined that sinful mouth closing over her sensitive nipples. Despite the wine, her throat went dry. With trembling fingers, she lifted a pastry off the plate and held it to his lips.
Damon grabbed her hand, holding it steady as he devoured the pastry. Before Madie could pull away, he sucked one of her fingers into his mouth, swirling his tongue around and around, until the butter had been removed.
The ache that started between Madie’s thighs turned into a steady throb. No amount of crossing and uncrossing her legs could diminish it. He was making her feel things that she’d never felt before and he hadn’t even kissed her yet.
Madie was so engrossed in her fantasy that she didn’t hear the waitress approach. She jumped when her steak was placed in front of her. After the waitress left, Madie forced herself to focus on her plate. She cut into the medium rare meat grateful that her hands had something to do. Blood dripped from her fork as she raised a slice to her mouth and took a bite.
Heaven.
Damon’s eyes held undisguised appreciation. “You prefer your steak rare.”
“You sound surprised.”
“I am. Most women don’t eat their meat that way,” he said.
She laughed. “I like my steak practically mooing. I’m a serious carnivore.” She looked at her plate. “I hope it doesn’t offend you or gross you out.” Her smile faded. What if Damon was a vegetarian? She glanced down at the bloody steak on her plate and suddenly it didn’t look nearly as appealing as it had a moment ago.
“Not at all,” he said. “Most people order fish when they come here.”
The waitress returned with Damon’s order. It was a steak, too.
He sliced into a corner and held it up for Madie’s inspection. It looked as if it hadn’t been cooked at all. “It appears we have similar appetites.”
“If you love a woman with an appetite, then you’re sure to love me. I eat like a horse.” Madie realized how bad that sounded as the last word left her mouth.
Damon stared at her, but said nothing. A myriad of emotions crossed his handsome face.
Heat rushed to her cheeks. She’d embarrassed herself again. She knew dinner was a bad idea. “I didn’t mean anything by that. I wasn’t trying to imply… I have a bad habit of speaking before I think.” She covered her face with her napkin.
“Don’t worry about it.” His lips quirked in a half smile.
They ate companionably. Madie found herself telling Damon things she shared with few people. She told him about her mother fighting for her to go to school and how afterwards she’d worked her way through college at the coffee shop.
“So it’s true about the…books?” Damon asked.
“For a second there, I thought you were going to ask me about my family’s odd reputation.”
Damon looked at her, his gaze intense. “I find gossip tedious and rarely truthful. Don’t you?”
“Yes, I do.” Madie swallowed the last drops from her third glass of wine. She was feeling so good, better than good, and Damon’s response made her feel even better. “It’s true that my father has a large collection of musty old books.”
Damon sat up straighter in his seat. “I’d love to see them some day. I admit I’m a bit of an antiquarian,” he said. “It’s just a hobby, but goes nicely with my other interests.”
Madie hesitated.
“We could swap,” he said, before she could reply. “I’ll show you my collection and you can show me yours.”
As ideas went, Madie thought she got the better end of the deal. “Okay, but given the size of my father’s collection, you may want to narrow it down
a bit. I can’t bring you the whole library.”
Damon took a sip of wine. “Fair enough.” He tilted his head in thought. “How about you bring me the three oldest titles?”
Madie frowned. “You don’t care who the authors are or the subject matter?”
“Not in the least.” He shook his head. “I’m more interested in the book’s age and its bindings.”
“It’s a deal.” She held out her hand to shake his. He took her hand gently and brought it to his lips, then placed a kiss upon her knuckles.
Damon released her and picked up his wine glass. “Here’s to our mutually satisfying agreement. May we both find what we’re looking for.” He clinked her glass and down the last of his wine.
Chapter Fifteen
Damon wined and dined Madie over the next few days. Each night he dropped her off at her house, but never tried to kiss her. He was a perfect gentleman. Beyond a perfect gentleman. And it was driving Madie absolutely insane.
At first she’d been grateful that Damon had taken things so slow, but her gratitude had quickly morphed into frustration. Every casual touch, every heated glance only ratcheted up her need.
If he didn’t do something soon, she was going to. Madie had read enough books and watched enough videos to know what to do—at least in theory. She figured once she got things started Damon would take over.
It was a good plan, but success rested solely upon his cooperation.
What if he didn’t respond? What if he wasn’t interested in her that way? The thought dampened some of her enthusiasm. It didn’t help that Sarah asked her every day if they’d ‘done it’ yet. It was Friday. Graduation was tomorrow. If something didn’t give soon, Madie was going to scream.
Damon picked her up for dinner at eight. They drove through New Salford. Instead of making a left toward the restaurant, he made a right.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
He glanced at her. “To my house. I want to show you my collection.”
Moonlight Kin: A Wolf's Tale Page 10