Part 8 (1/2)
”All werewolves have a 'thing' for each other during the full moon phase, Sal. It's beside the point.”
She sniffed. ”I'll initiate it, but it'll take awhile to collect the information.”
”Let me know when it's there.”
”Will do.”
I hung up and climbed into my car, then headed home to write up my overdue reports. Neither Rhoan or Liander were home when I got there, but I found a note on the fridge saying they'd gone out for dinner.
Which made my stomach rumble a reminder that it needed something more substantial than a burger. So once I'd typed up the report and sent it off to Jack, I grabbed my cell and rang Quinn.
”I was wondering when I was going to hear from you,” he said.
The s.e.xy lilt in his voice made want me to sigh in pleasure. ”I didn't want to disturb any vital business meetings.”
”All business meetings are vital, and they all drag on into boredom if there isn't a reason to take a break.” His voice was wry.
”Am I going to see you tonight?””That depends on whether you intend to pay for dinner or not. I gave my last spare cash to a street kid and now I'm broke until payday.”
”And I'm sure there's a perfectly good reason for you doing that. Only it probably won't make sense to the more logical of us.”
”That's a rather catty remark from someone who wants s.e.x tonight.”
”Not when I'm paying for the dinner you obviously can't afford.”
”True. Apology accepted then.”
He laughed softly. ”Shall I try and book a table at Wren's?”
Wren's was the latest ”it” spot for all of Melbourne's high flyers and, as such, had a waiting list months long. Luckily for us, Quinn knew the owner and most times could get us squeezed in. We'd been there five times now, and I adored the food. Mainly because Wren's was rare in the world of fine dining-it actually served enough food to keep even a hungry werewolf happy.
”If you get us a table, I'll love you forever.”
”If only you would,” he said, with another laugh. The sound washed across my senses as sweetly as a caress and made my body tingle with desire. ”What time?”
I glanced at my watch. It was just after six-thirty now, and Wren's was in the heart of Toorak, which was always a ha.s.sle to get to.
”I can be there by seven-thirty.”
”You really are hungry.”
”And maybe not just for food,” I said cheekily. ”I hope you're not wearing an expensive suit, vampire, because I fully intend to rip it off later.”
”Be my guest. It'll be worth the loss.”
I grinned. ”See you in an hour.”
I hung up then walked into the bathroom, having a quick shower and drying my hair before heading for my bedroom. Wren's was posh, so I grabbed a form-fitting black skirt that was split up the left side, and a s.e.xy black jacket for warmth. The jacket was short, barely skimming my waist, and the neckline plunged enough to show glimpses of my lacy red bra. I had matching panties, but I didn't put them on. There was something delicious about going without them. To complete the outfit, I chose four- inch red stilettos-the ones with the wood heels, of course. Mainly because Jack had a habit of calling me out to a job at the most awkward times, and the wooden stilettos had come in handy as a weapon more than once.
Quinn was already waiting in front of the gla.s.s and chrome building when I arrived. He was dressed semi-formally in black pants and a neat pale-pink s.h.i.+rt that was roughly rolled up to the elbows, and he was holding a black jacket casually over his shoulder. He looked absolutely wonderful.
His gaze met mine for a moment, then swept down my length, and the desire that stirred the air when he looked up again was powerful enough to make my wolf soul want to howl.
”You look fantastic,” he said, swinging around and offering me his free arm.
I laughed softly. ”I was just thinking the same about you.””Then we're well matched.” The gray-clad doorman opened the door and gave us a nod. Quinn continued, ”Frances couldn't give us a table tonight.”
Disappointment ran through me, then stalled as I saw the amus.e.m.e.nt in his bright eyes. ”I'm sensing there's a 'but' to that statement.”
”But I booked out the starlight function room for us instead.”
I stared at him for a moment, then laughed. ”That room is huge.”
”So is, I presume, your appet.i.te, because I have preordered all your favorites. Besides, what is the point of being a billionaire if I cannot splurge occasionally?”
I grinned. ”I guess this means we'll have to make sure you get your money's worth.”
The look he gave me just about smoked my insides, and it was all I could do to stop myself dancing with excitement.
Frances Wren, owner and chief hostess of the business, approached as we neared the maitre d's station. She was a tall, willowy woman with perfect blond hair and sapphire colored eyes. She was also over five hundred years old, and didn't look a day over twenty. Vampirism did have its benefits.
”Quinn,” she said, her Irish accent far more p.r.o.nounced than his ever had been. ”It's lovely to see you again.”
He gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. ”I hope I'm not pus.h.i.+ng my luck by booking at such short notice.”
”The room wasn't being used, so it's hardly a problem. Besides, I owe you far more than a table a couple of times a week.” She turned her attention to me, and her smile radiated a warmth that had my own lips reacting. ”Riley. Lovely to see you again.”
”Are you sure opening the starlight room for just the two of us isn't going to be a problem?”
She gave Quinn an amused look. ”Rest a.s.sured, it isn't. And he did tell me it was a matter of life or death. For his clothes, that is.”
”He might have been right.”
She laughed softly. ”This way, please.”
She led us through the packed dining room. The color scheme was as muted as the light, and the overall impression the room gave was one of warm welcome. Wren's decor might be subdued, but the food was spectacular, and that was probably the secret behind its success.
We climbed the stairs at the back and reached the barely lit landing. The decor here was richer, all claret and gold, with plush velvet chairs and tapestries on the wall. Wren opened the double doors that led off the wide corridor beyond the stairs and ushered us through.
Like the hallway, the starlight room was plush and rich. Tapestries and old paintings lined three walls, but the fourth-the side that looked onto the street-was a smoky gla.s.s through which little could be seen. There was no ceiling in this room, just more gla.s.s. The sky was clear and bright above us.
The room itself was shadowed, the only light coming from the muted wall lights and the candelabra set up in the middle of the table. Two winegla.s.ses sat near the candelabra, and an open bottle of wine waited in a freestanding chiller.
”Your meal will be up in an hour,” Frances said softly, amus.e.m.e.nt dancing across her lips. ”I hope that gives you enough time.” I waited until she'd left, then glanced at Quinn, eyebrow raised. ”Time enough for what?”
”To enjoy the wine, of course.” He rested his fingers lightly against my spine, guiding me across to the table. The heat of his touch sent little flashes of desire racing across my flesh, until it felt like my whole body was tingling.
”It doesn't take a whole hour to drink one bottle of wine,” I said, sitting on the edge of the table rather than on one of the plush chairs.
”It does if you drink it with proper appreciation, rather than merely gulping.” He handed me a gla.s.s, then picked up the wine and poured it. ”Tell me about your day.”