“I’m glad.”

So he wasn’t much of a talker. That was fine by her because she might make a fool of herself with how nervous she was.

They pulled into a small parking lot some time later. Le Marquis was a small French restaurant that required a reservation made months in advance to get in. She had no idea how he planned to get them inside, but she didn’t doubt he’d do it.

He opened the door for her, and escorted her inside. He whispered a few words to the maître d’ and shook his hand. She didn’t know how much was exchanged in that simple handshake but she was sure it was hefty.

The silver-haired maître d’ led them to a secluded table in the back of the quiet restaurant. Violins played softly over the speakers, taper candles lit the tables in a dim glow, and there was more silverware on the table than she knew what to do with.

Dmetri excused the maître d’ and pulled a chair out for her. He looked absolutely decadent in the dim light. His hair hung long and was pale like the color of white sand. He slid her seat in under her and his fingers lingered for a moment on her shoulder before he took the seat opposite her.

When a waiter in a black tuxedo came by, Dmetri ordered them a bottle of wine without even looking at the menu.

“Are you going to order my food for me too?”

Dmetri’s lips pulled into a small smile. “Yes.”

Without looking at the menu in front of her, she asked, “And what do you think I’ll want?”

He considered it seriously as he watched her, his head cocked to the side. Long hair fell over his shoulder, nearly reaching the middle of his chest. As he usually did, tonight he wore another black suit. This one somehow looked even more expensive than the others did but she couldn’t really be sure.

“Steak au Poivre.”

She clasped her hands to her heart. “You said steak, you can’t go wrong.” The waiter came by and poured their wine. Dmetri did order her food, though nothing for himself.

Picking up her long-stemmed glass, she swirled the white bubbly wine around then sipped it. At once, the bubbles popped on her tongue with sweetness that reminded her of pears.

Her eyes lit up. “This is wonderful.”

He smiled again, just one edge of his nicely made mouth curving up. “I’m glad you like it.”

“So why have you been so persistent about taking me out? You don’t know me or anything about me, really.” If he said because her body rocked then she might seriously consider kissing him tonight.

He seemed shocked by the question as if he hadn’t thought about why he was so interested in her. Or he was just surprised she’d asked. He leaned forward and the round table grew smaller. She could see the clear blue of his eyes in detail now, the black of his pupils, which watched every move she made.

“I don’t like women like you.”

A heavy pause.

Then Christine laughed in disbelief. She covered her mouth with her hand, afraid she’d be yelled at in a place like this for making any sounder louder than a whisper. But then she saw his face—and laughed harder.

Shoulders shaking, she ignored his shocked face. It took a while but eventually she got herself under control.

“Obviously not,” she said with mock seriousness.

His eye twitched. “I didn’t mean it like that. I meant that I don’t normally date...”

“Women like me?” she finished for him.

He nodded once, looking uncomfortable. Christine looked at the vampire and realized something quite endearing about him. He wasn’t all charm and smarm after all.

“You’re cute,” she said.

His face curled in disgust like he just smelled something awful. She started laughing again but quieted at his hard look. This night was turning out to be more fun than she thought it would be.

The

Steak au Poivre

tasted like heaven in her mouth. Juicy, tender meat with a creamy sauce and a side of roasted potatoes easily beat anything she’d ever cooked. She cleaned her entire plate and then frowned because she wouldn’t have any leftovers. Sighing she sat back in her seat and resisted the urge to rub her full belly.

“That was one helluva meal.”

He nodded like a king at her. “I’m pleased you enjoyed it.”

“I don’t even want to know how much it cost.”

“You probably don’t,” he said.

Laughing, she picked up her wine and finished her glass. When he moved to refill it, she held out the glass for him.

“Tell me about yourself,” he said.

Christine always hated questions like this. She wasn’t a unique or interesting person.

Voicing her life always made her realize just how un-special she was.

“You already know I’m the pack’s healer.”

“Where did you learn your skills?”

“From the previous healer. I apprenticed under him. When he died, I took over the reins.

How about you tell me about you?” If he noticed how quick she was to turn the conversation around, he didn’t say anything.

“I’m an Elder with the Justicars.”

“Oh, fancy.”

He almost looked like he’d laugh, but he didn’t. “I suppose to some it is. It’s mostly boring work. Paperwork, hearings, trials, things like that.” Christine leaned forward in her seat, one elbow resting on the table. Her hand teased the stem of the wine glass. “How old are you?”

“Old,” he said stiffly.

“A little self-conscious are we?”

He grimaced and took a long drink of his wine. “Six hundred and something. I don’t count anymore.”

“That’s a lot of candles on your birthday cake.”

His eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t eat cake, and I don’t celebrate the day of my birth.” Shaking her head, she grinned at him. The wine made her feel relaxed and light as if she were walking on air. “It was a joke, Dmetri.”

He gave her a tight-lipped smile. “Of course.”

They sat there for a moment in awkward silence, their gazes locked, and thoughts flying.

Christine wondered if he always kissed as restrained as he had before. He kept his control tight around him as if he was afraid of what might happen if it came loose. Cool and indifferent, that’s what he was. Nothing particularly revved him up. She had the distinct interest in seeing what did.

This might be due to the three or four glasses of wine she’d just imbibed.

Dmetri gave her an arched look as she stood. She smiled in return and crossed around the table to him. The restaurant was mostly empty now and the nearest table of people wouldn’t be able to see them from the partition that separated them.

“What are you doing?”

She pushed at his shoulder until he leaned back in his chair, then she skillfully sat in his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. He stared at her with shock...and heat in his eyes.

She liked how she felt in his lap. He was warm but not excessively so, not like a lykaen would be. His suit was soft against her bare skin where she rested on it. The material was fine and well made, probably even tailored. She had no doubt that it was expensive, too. The man did have higher tastes. That only made her smile that she’d attracted his attention. The air that he held himself in said he was the kind of man, or vampire, that only went with classy broads. She shivered, women like her mother probably.

“What are you doing?” he asked again, his voice low, rough.

Christine pressed her lips to his ear and bit down on the soft lobe. His entire body tightened in response, hands coming up to wrap around her back and thigh. She inwardly applauded him for not touching her beneath her dress; instead, he cupped her from atop the material. Like a gentleman, she mused.

“Kissing you,” she whispered in his ear.

And then she pressed her lips to his cheek. He was cool to the touch and smooth. He smelled rich and delicious this close but the scent was subtle and unique to him. She trailed soft kisses along his jaw line then veered up as she neared his mouth.