“What would you like?” he asked when they reached the front of the line.
Her mind went blank. She’d just suggested they go to the bar as a distraction. But now … “A shot of tequila,” she said defiantly, knowing it wasn’t something most would order here.
He raised a brow.
Her embarrassment just made her voice sound snotty. “What? You afraid I’m going to get hammered?”
“Maybe. I remember the last time you went to a bar and drank tequila. I remember what you did and how I almost couldn’t protect you.”
“Well, let me assure you, I have no intention of leaving your side.”
“How about instead of a drink, I offer you something else?”
“What’s that?”
“A dance.”
Her face stiffened with insecurity. She’d undergone basic dance training at the compound and every time she’d felt like a horse wearing roller skates.
“Come on,” he urged, grinning. “It’ll be fun.”
As she looked at him, his expression and words seemed genuine. As if he really wanted to dance with her because he’d enjoy it and not because it would be a means to an end. Of course, that wasn’t true, but it didn’t change the fact that she very much wanted it to be. Now that their night of passion was over, she wanted to be in his arms again, and if dancing with him was the only way to make it happen …
She nodded. “Lead the way.”
They walked past the other couples on the dance floor and faced each other. He slid his hand beneath her hair and cupped her nape. Just cupped it. Whatever chill had clung to him when they’d first met was completely gone now. She couldn’t help wondering if the fact he’d drunk her blood had something to do with it. The warmth of his hand was like a fiery brand, instantly heating her and making her quiver with anticipation. She stared at his mouth, willing him to press it against her own, but he didn’t move, didn’t pull her closer. He simply held her, lightly but with an unmistakable air of possession that had her biting her lip to keep from moaning.
She wanted him again. Wanted his mouth on hers. His hands all over her. His body inside her. Here. Now. What came afterward didn’t matter.
Only it did. And as she stared into his eyes, that knowledge stared back at her.
He wanted her, too. He wanted to do everything he’d done to her before and more. He wanted to push her, make her once again accept the kind of pleasure she’d never allowed herself before. The kind she hadn’t even believed existed until she’d met him.
But he was content with touching her, just touching her, because he knew what happened next did matter. Not just to them, but to the countless others whose lives he thought might be made better if they could successfully complete their mission. And whose lives would be lost if they couldn’t.
With great sex comes great responsibility, she thought, then had to fight the urge to giggle hysterically. What a joke. She’d never had great sex, not until Ty, but her life had always been about responsibility, whether it had been to her sister or to the gang. Their time together was the first time she’d had one without the other. She wanted it again. But it wasn’t going to happen. Not with him. Not now.
With a sigh of regret, she closed her eyes. An instant later, he made the same shaky, puffing sound, pulled her into him, pressed his forehead gently against hers, and began to sway in a gentle, barely there dance. The hand at the back of her neck moved, massaging her muscles in a distinctly soothing rhythm at odds with the tension coursing through his body and her own.
“I still want you,” he said, his breath caressing her lips the way she longed for his tongue to do. “Don’t think for a second that I don’t.”
“I know,” she answered softly. “I—I still want you, too.”
His eyes blazed and a sense of certainty filled his gaze. “Fuck it. I don’t care about our pasts and I don’t care that our futures are uncertain. I will have you again,” he vowed. “We’ll have each other. But …”
His voice trailed off, and she whispered, “But I’m a nice human girl who should stick to her own kind.”
He didn’t dispute what she’d said. Ana desperately wanted him to. Hope was a stealthy specter, overwhelming her before she could stop it.
She warned herself to get real.
“Maybe not,” he said slowly. “If you want more, I’ll show you that what I gave you was only the beginning.”
In other words, he wasn’t promising her anything beyond the pleasure he could give her during the night. Why would he? She’d told him sex was all she’d wanted. She knew he couldn’t lie, but part of her wished vampires could smell lies uttered by others, too.
They danced for a little while, as close as they dared. Eventually, she couldn’t help herself. She leaned forward and kissed him.
His lips on hers were like coming home, or at least what coming home should feel like. Pleasure and contentment and familiarity. She opened her mouth, urging him to take her deeper, and he did. He took things from her she didn’t even know she had to give.
When he finally pulled away, she looked off to the side, feeling too vulnerable. Gently, he held her chin and turned her face until she had no choice but to meet his gaze.
She licked her lips. Wanted to cry out that she wanted him. Needed him. Not just for sex or for a night or even until their mission was over. She tried to imagine her life without him in it and she couldn’t. Somehow, she knew that when he left her, he’d leave a bigger hole in her heart than even Gloria had when they’d been separated.
And that scared the shit out of her.
Once he adjusted to being a vampire, he’d probably go back to his privileged life. He’d forget about her. Hell, he’d probably forget about Belladonna and Rogues on the loose. She had yet to meet one of those, but they were out there. Using and torturing humans.
Pathetic, helpless, inferior humans, which was all she’d ever be.
“What are you thinking?” he asked her.
She raised her chin. “You don’t know?”
He frowned. “I told you. I’ve never tried to read your mind. And I won’t.”
“Unless you need to. For the job. For some other reason you think justifies your actions.”
“It’s hardly a power I can use at will. Most of the time it doesn’t work, no matter how hard I try. But what’s your point?”
“The point is, you can read minds. You’re a vampire, for God’s sake. We need to keep things professional between us. Get the job done. Get into Salvation’s Crossing and get out. And then move on.”
“Okay.” He nodded and far too easily seemed to dismiss her. As they continued to dance, his gaze swept the room.
“Do you—do you see Miguel yet?”
“No,” he said grimly. “I don’t. And something tells me he’s not going to show. Damn it.”
“Why do you say that?”
“He’s supposed to be here checking out potential investors. The net worth of the people in this room reaches billions.”
“Maybe he’s just trying to exercise a little finesse. Miguel was never the brash type. He worked his charm. Moved in for the kill nice and slow.” She frowned, wondering why she’d described Miguel more like a predator than the friend she remembered. Belladonna’s suspicious mindset must be influencing her more than she’d thought.
“You’re right. We’ll stay. Assuming you can stand my company for another few hours, that is.” He smiled at her. “Are my fangs showing?”
Did he really think that’s why she’d retreated from him? “No. And I never said I can’t stand your company.”
His tense expression relaxed slightly and he shrugged, the careless gesture tearing at her heart. “Great. So we’ll drink. We’ll dance. We’ll get where we need to go, and at the end we’ll go our separate ways. Right?”