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.”
With a low groan she snatched her hand away. In a minute she was going to be knocking aside the table and crawling over him like a sex-starved harpy.
“So why do you want me to host a party?”
He shrugged, the amusement lingering in his eyes. “It’s the most convenient way to gather all your neighbors at one time so I can question them.”
“You think they’ll confess to being a homicidal maniac over apple martinis?”
“It’s easier to read people when they’re in a group,” he explained. “If I do door-to-door interviews they’ll be on guard.”
“No shit,” she muttered, her gaze skimming over the heavy muscles of his chest.
Even dressed he would be the sort of unannounced visitor who would make her neighbors hide under their bed and call the cops.
His smile widened. “This way they’ll feel more comfortable.”
“And more likely to give something away?”
“That’s the hope.”
She had to admit it made sense, she acknowledged, rising to her feet.
As he said, her neighbors were more likely to let down their guard during the course of a party. Especially if she could score a bottle of nectar from Troy. A few drops in her guests’ drinks and their inhibitions would be lowered. Perhaps not to the point of revealing their most intimate secrets, but they would be more inclined to “share.”
“Fine.” She cleared her throat as he straightened, his muscles rippling in the afternoon sunlight that slanted through the glass wall. “I’ll send out the invitations.”
“You aren’t really going to serve apple martinis, are you?” he demanded, moving to stand way too close.
“How am I supposed to explain your presence?” she abruptly demanded.
“I’m your latest lover, of course.”
She snorted at his ready suggestion. “You could be my brother. Or the pool boy.”
His hand lifted to skim along her hairline, following the curve of her ear.
“I’m not nearly pretty enough to be the pool boy, and we don’t want to shock the natives if I happen to do this in front of them.”
A part of her knew a kiss was coming. She also knew she could halt it by taking a simple step backward. Instead she tilted back her head to meet his descending mouth, her lips parting in invitation to the deep, hungry kiss.
He groaned, his hands gripping her hips as their tongues tangled in a silent dance of mutual need.
An enthralling pleasure blasted through her, making her arch against his hardening cock as her hands ran a restless path over his powerful back.
He was so deliciously warm.
And male.
Starkly, unapologetically male.
The kiss deepened as she rubbed her aching breasts against his bare chest, her blood on fire with the need to feel him plunging deep inside her body.
As if sensing her desperate desire, his hands skimmed up the curve of her waist, cupping her breasts to tease her sensitive nipples with his thumbs.
She growled her approval, arching toward his insistent caresses as her hands slid beneath the satin boxers to cup the hard muscles of his perfect ass.
Laughing softly he nipped at her lower lip before whispering against her mouth.
“This isn’t at all brotherly.”
Busy thanking the gods that she wasn’t related to this intensely sexy Were, Sophia was taken off guard as a brick was tossed through the window over the sink.
They both stiffened in shock, but Luc swiftly recovered and was immediately out of her arms and sprinting toward the French doors leading onto the back patio.
Sophia felt a brief flare of fear at the realization he was unarmed as he charged after the trespasser only to grimace as the backlash of his power sizzled through the air. Even without shifting there were few demons who could match his strength.
And if he went wolf ...
Well, she pitied anyone stupid enough to stand in his path.
Of course, a silver bullet could bring down the mightiest Were, an anxious voice whispered in the back of her mind.
A voice she hastily squashed.
Luc could take care of himself. She refused to even consider the thought of him being hurt.
