He looked at me for a moment, and then started to laugh. “Favorite color?”
I shrugged. “It’s a new subject, isn’t it?”
“I don’t know that I have a favorite color.”
“My guess would be black. You wear a lot of it.”
He looked down at his staple outfit— black shirt, black jacket, black pants. All designer and custom made to perfectly fit his tall, lean frame. “It all matches.”
I nodded. “So you pick black to help you have a no-brainer wardrobe?”
“Why else?”
“It does suit you.”
“You think so?”
“Yes, it gives off that slightly sinister, but very sexy look.”
His gaze moved slowly down the front of my dress. “I see that you are also wearing black tonight. Are you trying to look sinister?”
I looked down to be faced with my cleavage. “Not so much.”
He raised an eyebrow. “So just sexy.”
I slid out of my side of the booth and slid in beside Thierry. “We sort of match, don’t we?”
He paused and met my gaze. “Yes, I suppose we do.”
I slipped my hand under his jacket and against the warmth of his chest. “How much time do we have left?”
He glanced at his watch. “A little over an hour.”
“That should be enough.”
“For what?” he asked with mock innocence, as he slowly ran his fingers through my hair and tucked it behind my ear.
“Maybe that’s enough small talk for one night.” I grinned and moved my hands up to draw his face closer to mine to kiss him. After a moment, I traced my tongue over his fangs—small and sharp, just like mine. Something else that matched.
Thierry could kiss. And this was such a wonderful kiss that whispered promises of things to come, but still . . . there was something missing. It wasn’t like last night. He was restraining himself again. I could feel it. He was only giving a percentage of himself. It might have been 90 percent, but I could tell that it wasn’t a hundred.
But 90 percent of Thierry was 1,000 percent of any other guy I’d ever kissed. If I’d been standing up,
my knees would have gone weak.
I inhaled his cologne. Woodsy, musky, undoubtedly male. Not like some of these fruity, floral colognes men wear that smell like clones of women’s perfume. Thierry’s was different, and I associated the scent with him completely. I slid my hand down to his waist as I buried my nose into his neck.
He tensed. “What are you doing?”
“Smelling you.” My hand moved down to his thigh.
“Why?”
“Because you smell so damn good. And it isn’t just because of my new vampire nose.”
“Your senses are heightening?” he asked.
I nodded. “I’ve noticed smell and hearing,” I kissed him again. “Taste, too. I’m still disappointed that I won’t be able to turn into a bat, but I’m moving on.”
“All earlier than expected,” Thierry said, his expression darkening a little. “My fault, I’m afraid. I never should have given you my blood.”
“If you hadn’t, I’d be dead right now. So I appreciate it.”
“There were other options. I simply wasn’t thinking.”
I moved even closer to him. “You think too much.”
Our lips met again and I allowed my hands to wander freely along his delicious body. I wanted him so badly it hurt. It had been two long weeks since we were in Mexico. And this was so perfect. Why had I doubted things between us?
He grabbed my hand just before it started to make any unladylike maneuvers and brought it to his lips to kiss. “Do you have anything else you wanted to know about me, or were you simply wondering what my favorite color was?”
I smiled at him. “Okay, I do have another question. Where did you get that wonderful cologne?”
He placed my hand on the tabletop and poured me more champagne. “Veronique gave it to me. She has it specially made every year.”
Cold shower. Right here. And I didn’t even have to get wet.
I scooted a little away from him so we were no longer touching. “Veronique.”
“Yes.”
Yes, despite the fact they weren’t together anymore, that woman would always be the dark little rain cloud over our relationship.
“Why don’t you divorce her?” I asked.
My eyes widened. Yikes. Did I really just say that out loud?
Yeah, I did. So what? It’s about time somebody did.
Oh, God. Can I take it back?
Thierry looked surprised at my question. “Divorce?”
I swallowed hard. “Um. Well, it’s not like you two are living together anymore. Your marriage is in name only. Isn’t that what you told me?”
“Of course. But a divorce—”