Burning Dawn
Page 32

Did he want her? The way she wanted him?
Please, please, please.
No. Not please!
Someone chuckled. “O-kay. This is halfway to awkward.”
Scowling, Thane tore his attention away from her and sat back down.
Good. That was good. She could breathe again. The only difference was, her skin was more sensitive...tingling, aching, as if she and Thane were back in that garden, sitting beside each other, within reach.
The stilted conversations she wished she’d tried to listen to instead of spacing out like a love-struck teenager had ceased, she realized. All eyes were glued to her.
“Where’s your robe?” Thane asked.
So. He knew Adrian had tried to foist one off on her. “It’s stuffed in a potted plant, where I’d like it to remain.” A robe meant lower tips. “Now, then. What can I get you guys to drink?”
“How about a nice, tall glass of you, pretty girl,” said Most Beautiful.
“Like I haven’t heard that one before,” she muttered.
“Ouch. Okay, I’ll step up my game. Or not. I know that you noticed me,” he continued smoothly. “Everyone does.” A slow, seductive grin curved his sensuous mouth. It was an invitation to attend the party in his pants, no doubt about it. “Now the only question left to answer is what time you’d like to get off. Because I’ll make sure it happens. Twice.”
Yeah. She’d found a candidate. Teasing him, she said, “Okay, one arsenic, coming up.”
A genuine laugh of amusement barked from him.
Most Beautiful liked death threats with his alcohol. Got it.
“I’ll be coming back for you, female,” he said. “I guarantee it.”
Thane banged a hand against the tabletop, and a jagged crack formed in the center. Startled, Elin yelped. Uh-oh. Stupid girl! Had she really just threatened his friend the way she threatened regular customers? Plucky best friend hadn’t worked. She’d had to go with homicidal sweetheart.
“I wasn’t really going to feed him arsenic,” she rushed out.
But Thane’s gaze wasn’t on her. It was on Most Beautiful. “Elin, send Savy in here, then have Adrian escort you to my suite.”
Wait. What? “Uh, well—”
“No arguments,” he snapped, still not glancing in her direction.
“Who said I was going to argue?” I was. I so was. Why did he want her to go to his suite? To punish her in private? She scanned the six occupants in the small, secluded room at the north corner of the bar, hoping for concrete answers. No longer did anyone pay her any heed. Everyone watched Thane with unabashed interest. “Fine. I’ll do it.” I thought we were semi-friends, you jerk! “But would it be okay if I gave the order to Bellorie instead?”
It was probably a million kinds of wrong to suggest a change. Probably? Ha. With Mr. No Debate, it was. More than that, warriors didn’t like to be second-guessed. And Thane was more warrior than most!
But Bellorie was Elin’s personal favorite, and the girl wanted in here so bad. And, really, Elin was already in trouble. What harm could a little more do?
Oh, crap. A little more trouble could equal a lot more pain. Like the time Kendra whipped her—and then threw her into a salt bath.
At last Thane faced her. Those electric blues practically vibrated with awareness, unnerving her. Making her feel naked rather than partially clothed.
Making her body crave all over again...
An unreadable light entered his eyes—something hard and hot. Carnal and dangerous. Rather than order her to bend over his lap and apologize while he spanked her, which she kind of expected, he nodded. “Send Bellorie.”
Most Beautiful gaped at Thane. “Did you just change your orders? For an employee?”
Not waiting around to hear his reply, Elin rushed out and hunted her best girl. The bubbly Harpy was at the bar, loading a tray with drinks.
“You’re up, Rocket,” Elin told her. “Thane wants you serving his table tonight.”
The redhead faced her, mouth agape. “Me? Really? Even though I tried to give Koldo a lap dance last time?”
Which one was Koldo? Most Beautiful? “Yep. Even though.”
Bellorie jumped up and down with excitement. “This is gonna be the best night ever.”
“Just be careful. Thane is in a snarly mood. Definitely don’t threaten his friends.”
“Please.” Bellorie pulled a tube of bright red lipstick from her pocket. “I’m not in my early fifties anymore. I would never do anything as childish as threatening a Sent One.”
Blimey. “How old are you?”
“One hundred and three luscious years.” This was said as if the advanced age were perfectly normal. And up here, it totally was.
Just how old was Thane? Had he already lived a lifetime, like Bellorie? Or several lifetimes?
Either way, he would live several more. Maybe Elin would age more slowly than the average human. Maybe she wouldn’t. She had no outward signs of being Phoenix, no fangs or claws. No ability to produce flames. No birthmarks. So, why would she have any internal signs, like eternal youth?
This was just another reason to stay away from Thane.
“So, where will you be while the sexiest males in the skies are falling madly, passionately in lust with me?” Bellorie asked, fluffing her hair and checking her appearance in the mirror over the bar.
Can’t tell her. Just...can’t. Pity—or worse, horror—would take over her features, and Elin would never find the courage to wait for Thane and the coming punishment, as ordered. A punishment she wouldn’t accept peacefully!
“I’m taking care of something for Mr. Thane.” Truth, without details. Friendship preserved. She gave the girl a little push toward the private room. “You better go before you make his crap list.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time, Bonka Donk.” Grinning, Bellorie skipped away.
Elin reluctantly approached Adrian. He didn’t look at her, but his posture did straighten the slightest degree. “You’re supposed to escort me to Thane’s stupid suite to await his stupid majesty’s every stupid whim.”
A moment passed. Then another. No response was forthcoming. At first, she didn’t think he’d heard her. Then he stalked away from her and entered the private room. He exited a few minutes later, his expression granite hard and rougher than sandpaper. He bypassed Elin—still without a word. Whatever. She followed.