I grimaced. “Well, I couldn’t, but aside from those few days, I’ve abstained.”
“I guess that explains the desire that just about blew me off my feet.”
“Yeah. Sorry about that.”
He laughed softly. “Don’t be. It was a nice reaction to get.” He studied me for a moment, then said, “You haven’t told me why.”
I took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “Because I wanted something more than just the touch of a stranger. I wanted the caring, the emotion, that I got with Kellen. And with you.”
“You could have contacted me after the breakup.”
“No, I couldn’t. I’d told you to go away and give me time, remember. And after the breakup, I still needed that time.” To not only recover from the hurt, but to decide what I really wanted. Except it wasn’t until tonight, and the kiss we’d shared, that I’d really known. “Quinn, I like what we have. I believe it’s good, and I believe it is strong. But I also believe my soul mate is out there, which means I still won’t commit fully to anyone. Not even you.”
“So where does that leave us?”
“In the same old quandary, I guess.” I squeezed his hands and then released them. The world felt a whole lot colder without his touch, and my hormones screamed in horror.
He leaned back and picked up his wineglass, his movements elegant and casual. As if he hadn’t shared a mind-blowing kiss only moments before. And yet I could feel the hunger on him, smell his arousal.
He took a sip of the drink, then said, “None of the Trollops are here yet.”
I glanced at my watch. It was just after seven-thirty. “I thought this gig started at seven?”
“It does, but the beautiful people tend to arrive just before the main proceedings. Unless they are on the hunt, of course. Then it’s a different matter.”
“I think most people would consider you one of the beautiful people.” But despite the scent of his arousal spinning all around me, he didn’t particularly seem to be on the hunt. But then, if a vampire with over twelve hundred years behind him couldn’t control his emotions and needs, then who could?
“Was that a compliment? Ms. Jenson, I’m shocked.”
“Okay, so I’ve been a little sparse in my compliments. But then, so have you, buddy.”
“Which is very remiss of me. You look stunning in green, by the way.”
I smiled. “Compliments that you’ve been prodded into don’t count.” I leaned back a little, and crossed one leg over the other, showing a nice amount of thigh. “So what are we going to do, Quinn?”
“I don’t know.” His gaze went past me. “Marcy Bennett and Enna Free just walked into the room.”
I twisted around to look. Two statuesque blonde women stood at the doorway, one dressed in dusky orange that clashed a little too much with her overly tanned skin. The other was wearing the deep red of autumn leaves.
“Enna’s the one on the right?” Only a cat would put that color dress with her skin tone.
“Yes.”
“Then I guess I’d better go back to work.”
I stood somewhat reluctantly. He stood up also, but wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me closer, his fingers splayed against the bare skin of my back, sending little bolts of electricity tingling up and down my spine.
I licked my suddenly dry lips and stared into his dark eyes, seeing the hunger there, seeing the need. And not just sexual need. “I thought you didn’t want to do casual?”
“I thought you said you’d quit casual?”
I smiled. “Well, yeah, but that doesn’t change—”
He placed a finger gently against my lips, silencing me. “I have the presidential suite at the Langham. If you feel like discussing this matter any further, come back there when you finish tonight.”
“I’m not sure what time I’m going to be finished working.” And I certainly wasn’t sure if I should go back, no matter what I was feeling or how much I needed him. We’d been through so much, had hurt each other so much, that part of me worried that the cycle would just start up all over again.
I couldn’t bear that. There’d been enough shit in my life already. I just wanted a simple, straightforward, caring relationship with someone for a change. No ulterior motives, no hang-ups about what I was or what I did. I just wanted to deal with regular everyday problems in a regular everyday relationship.
And I really wasn’t sure Quinn and I could ever have just a regular relationship.
“It doesn’t matter what time you turn up. I’m not going anywhere.” He bent and kissed me, his lips lingering, teasingly close as he added, “Please come back, Riley.”
I took a shuddery breath and released it slowly. “No promises.”
I stepped away, even though all I wanted to do was remain in his arms with all that lean strength wrapped around me. To feel safe and secure and cared for for the first time in what seemed like ages.
“Be careful when you’re dealing with the bakeneko. Don’t let it get a taste of you.”
“The bitch isn’t going to get close enough to bite, trust me on that.” I gave him a confident smile, then turned and walked away—even though my legs felt like jelly and every step away from him had my hormones screaming in rage.
The glittery room seemed a whole lot noisier away from the quiet oasis that had seemed to surround Quinn and me, and I suddenly wondered if he’d been using his vampire wiles again. Not on me, but on the others in this room. There were a lot of people here, but he was a whole lot of vampire, and it wouldn’t have surprised me if he had been keeping the noise and the people at bay while we talked.
Enna and her friend hadn’t moved that far from the main entrance, their gazes scanning the room as if they were searching for someone. Or perhaps they were checking out the talent.
I skirted the room, coming up to them from the left and slightly behind. I was one table away when Enna suddenly swung around, her nostrils flaring as she sucked in air. I hadn’t thought she’d gotten close enough to me to catch my scent when we were chasing her earlier, but obviously I’d been wrong. Her gaze zoomed to mine, and an anger that was both derisive and alien flared deep in the blue depths. She bared her teeth and made an odd sort of hissing sound, then turned and ran for the door.
Chapter 8
For a cat who’d only been wearing stilettos for a few weeks, she was damned fast.
I ran after her, dodging tables and people. Some fool in a suit saw her running and gallantly opened the door, then walked away and let it shut, making me waste precious seconds flinging it back open again.
Thankfully, the hallway beyond was relatively clear of people. Enna had already gone through the main entrance doors and swung right, heading toward the river.
I raced after her, startling the doorman by thumping my hand against the door as he began to close it.
“Sorry,” he said, but by then I was almost out of earshot.
The night was cold, filled with the scent of eucalyptus and the slightly muddy aroma that was the Yarra River. But the scent of cat rode the night sharply and it was easy to follow. I raced along the footpath, my stilettos creating a sharp tattoo of sound that echoed across the moonlit gardens that surrounded us. Up ahead, Enna’s vivid orange form ran on, her arms pumping as fast as her feet. It almost looked as if she was so used to running on four legs that she couldn’t quite adjust her motion to two. But it wasn’t helping, because slowly but surely I was reeling her in.
Beyond her, the footpath curved around to the left and disappeared behind some trees. I reached for more speed, wanting to grab her before she got to the corner and went out of my sight, however briefly. She was obviously thinking along similar lines, because her speed increased and her arms and legs became little more than a blur.