“I work for a distillery. I sample other whisky around the world for comparison.”
Her red eyes held his as she lifted the wineglass to her lips and sampled the cabernet sauvignon. “Wouldn’t it be easier to taste these whiskies at your distillery?”
“It might, but it adds to the taste of the whisky to try it at the place it’s distilled. It’s also helpful to sit in a pub and watch what the bartenders pour for their patrons.”
“I see.” She set down her glass and licked her lips.
Kiril swirled the red wine in his glass thinking how much he wanted to kiss her, to wrap her long hair around his hand and hold her hostage as he ravaged her lips. “What do you do?”
“I work in my family’s business.”
So she didn’t lie either. Interesting. “And what is it your family does?”
“Import/export.”
Another truth. Dark Fae were notorious for luring humans into their world, but it wasn’t pleasure the humans received. The women were taken by the males, and though they might experience brief pleasure, unbeknownst to them their souls were being drained.
As for the human males, the female Dark used them for sex. Sex with a Dark was like a drug, and the humans could become addicted fast. The females rarely lived long enough to know what was happening, but the female Darks made sure to keep the human males alive for decades while having their fun.
“A lucrative business, I assume,” Kiril said.
Shara glanced away. “It is.”
Kiril let the questions drop as their food was delivered. The rest of the meal was spent talking of anything that neither of them had to lie about. It was … refreshing. For the first time in days, Kiril almost felt like himself. He was still on guard, but he was more relaxed. Perhaps it was because he knew what he was about.
Or maybe it was because he wanted to shove aside the food, yank her to her feet, and toss her atop the table to have his way with her.
CHAPTER TWO
It was lucky that Shara had gotten a look at Kiril the day after she was informed of her mission. She found Kiril attractive from a distance, but up close he robbed her of breath and thought.
He was tall and potent, overwhelming and dynamic. Compelling and persuasive.
He was—simply put—extraordinary.
Her fingers itched to sink into his wheat-colored hair that was thick and kept in longish waves. His eyes were the color of shamrocks—a bright, vivid green—and saw everything.
He wore the black suit with ease. The cut of it showing off his wide shoulders and narrow hips. The simple white shirt beneath was left unbuttoned at the top with no tie in sight.
The flash of onyx and pearl at his wrists drew her eye to his cuff links. It was the only jewelry he wore except for his watch.
He was all male—hard, vigorous, and intense.
His face appeared to be cut from granite. The hard line of his jaw only amplified his square chin and the little indent in the middle. Though he appeared relaxed and at ease, she knew he was anything but. His gaze swept the restaurant, taking in everything in that one glance. And when his green gaze focused on her, her heart skidded and her stomach fluttered.
While at one time she might have found some excitement at the thought of bedding a human, no male—Fae or human—stirred her as Kiril did. He faced the world as if daring it to challenge him.
He was the embodiment of excitement, intrigue … fascination.
Farrell had warned her that Kiril was an experienced flirt who had no problem getting any woman he wanted. With charm that could seduce an angel into Hell itself, she understood why. It wasn’t just his charm either. It was the way he looked at her when she talked, as if she were the only person in the entire world that he wanted to be with, to listen to.
He made her feel special and unique.
Remarkable.
How amazing her time with him would be, but a glimpse of one of her brother’s lackeys reminded her that she was proving herself and her loyalty to her family. She wasn’t with Kiril for fun. She had a job to do. Her very life depended upon it. Her family was one of the most powerful in the Dark Fae world.
She had already shamed them. This was her last chance—in all ways.
Her brother, Farrell, waited in the wings for her to screw up so he could kill her. He was watching her every move, ensuring she carried through with things exactly as instructed and deliver a Dragon King to their father.
For a short time during their meal, Shara allowed herself to believe it was all real. Daydreaming. It’s what had sustained her for six hundred years while being kept prisoner in her own room for her last transgression. Six hundred years of thinking how she was forgotten as her parents doted on her elder siblings and their accomplishments while she was left to do as she pleased.