PLAY OF PASSION

Feeling the hum of anticipation in his belly, Andrew gave his alpha an innocent smile. “I have no idea what you mean.”


Hawke pointed a finger at him. “I want my calm, collected lieutenant back by the end of the week, or I’m packing you in a box and shipping you to fucking Siberia.”

Andrew grinned. “I hear it’s nice there this time of year.”

Indigo knew she looked good in the strapless little black dress that came to midthigh and skimmed over her body like a lover’s caress. Feet encased in three-inch heels, hair cascading down to the dip of her spine, and lips plump and red, she intended to make Andrew Kincaid’s eyes pop out in revenge for the relentless pressure she was under to “forgive him.” It didn’t matter how many times she explained that it wasn’t about forgiveness, but about the health of the pack; no one listened.

She’d had enough.

Several men waiting at the bar went stock-still as she entered the restaurant. “Andrew Kincaid,” she said to the hostess, ignoring everyone else.

The petite brunette checked her sleek computronic organizer. “This way, Ms. Riviere.”

Indigo narrowed her eyes, but said nothing as she followed the woman through the carpeted center of the restaurant and up the small flight of stairs at the back. She heard several men suck in a breath as she passed, while one audibly moaned, “Oh, God, those are what I call legs,” but none of it eased her temper.

Instead of showing her to a table on the upper level, the hostess took her to the door of a small private room. “I hope you enjoy your meal, Ms. Riviere,” the woman said, opening the door and waiting for Indigo to enter.

“Thank you.” She heard the door close behind her, but her eyes were on the man who stood beside the table dressed in a tuxedo that turned him from gorgeous and deliciously sexy to devastatingly handsome—but with the wicked still in his eye.

“Wow.” He ran his eyes down her body, back up, then down again. Slowly. Very, very slowly.

Every inch of her skin felt hypersensitive by the time those playful blue eyes met hers again. “I’m officially slayed,” he said, placing a hand on his heart.

She would not smile. “I thought this was a party.”

“Of two.” Pulling out her chair, he inclined his head. “Won’t you take a seat, Indigo?”

It felt strange to hear him use her full name. But deciding to take him up on his offer since the whole point of tonight was to talk to him face-to-face, she closed the distance between them and, placing her purse on the table, sat down. He eased the chair in behind her, his arms on either side of her body. “You smell …” A long, slow breath, as if he was savoring the scent of her.

She didn’t reply, overwhelmed by the sensory impact of him. The warmth of his body lapped against her skin even as the wild male scent of him wrapped around her like an invisible caress. She almost expected him to bend his head and kiss her nape, so much so that her body tightened in anticipation, but he released his hold on the arms of the chair and moved around to sit across from her.

“You still carry my scent in your skin.”

She closed her hands hard on the chair arms to get herself under control. “It’ll fade.” Pain and an untamed, unnamed emotion flared within her even as she spoke.

“I’ve got you in my skin, too,” he said in a tone that she couldn’t read, before pushing a code on the little touch pad sitting to the side. “I hope you don’t mind, but I placed an order for both of us earlier. I wanted to be able to talk to you without interruptions.”

Unsure how to read his behavior, she said, “That’s fine,” and watched as the door opened to admit an attendant dressed in a smart black suit. Rolling in the serving cart, the slender man placed it quietly by the side of the table. “You’re certain you do not wish for me to stay, sir?”

“No, we’ll manage.”

The man left with a nod to both Drew and Indigo.

Rising, Drew lifted off a cover to place a plate of delicacies in front of her. “I thought you’d like a choice of starters.”

Starting to feel an odd prickling at the back of her neck—as if she’d walked unawares into a trap—Indigo nonetheless picked up an artwork of a pastry and popped it into her mouth as he retrieved his own plate. The flavors exploded on her tongue in a burst of sweetness and spice. “Delicious.”

Drew’s smile was sharp, satisfied … and something else, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on but that made her wolf growl in warning as he murmured, “Good.”

Deciding to take the bull by the horns, she allowed him to pour the wine before saying, “So, what’s this about?”

“I’m leaving the pack.”

Her heart skipped a beat before she narrowed her eyes. “Uh-huh.”

He gave her a crooked smile. “No joke. I spoke to WinterFire in North Dakota. They’re willing to welcome me into the fold.”

WinterFire was a strong, but much, much smaller pack. “And what will you do in WinterFire?” She wasn’t buying it, not for an instant.