“My kind of female.” Wraith could really like this chick if he ever allowed himself attachments, which he didn’t.
Find an excuse to touch her. Tayla had told him that. She’d said something about how he had to start small. Light, innocent touches.
He was not good at light and innocent. Pounce and pillage… that was his style.
Cursing to himself, he cocked out his arm in a foreign-feeling gentlemanly gesture to escort her. To his surprise, she hooked her dainty hand around his forearm and allowed him to walk her to the bar, where they were greeted by a middle-aged Egyptian man who wrinkled his nose at Wraith’s facial dermoire.
Wraith itched to shove the guy’s head up his ass, but he kept himself in check and ordered a double whiskey, neat.
“I’ll have what he’s having,” Serena said, and Wraith felt the slow burn of admiration creeping up on him. He’d expected her to drink something sweet and fruity.
This chick was not what he’d expected, and he wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad one.
He put his hand on her knee.
She picked it up and put it back in his lap.
Crash. And. Burn.
As though Wraith didn’t exist, Serena braced her elbows on the bar top and played with her napkin, grinning at the bartender when he set her drink down in front of her. Goddamn. The sensual glow that radiated from her when she smiled was downright unholy, and he felt an erotic surge rise up like a tide in his veins. And in his jeans.
He despised that reaction to humans. It made him feel dirty, and he ruthlessly tamped down his urges, even though those urges were what were going to win him the prize.
He’d planned to meet her, whisk her someplace private, take her, and be done with it without ever having to exchange names. He was a freaking incubus, after all. Effortless sex was what he did. No female had ever resisted him. It figured that the one he needed to not resist him would be the one he would have to work at seducing.
This situation had been poorly planned on his part, which was unacceptable. He usually spent weeks, if not months, researching his missions, his prizes, his targets. It wasn’t that he liked research, but better to know every detail than to spend too much time chasing his tail when he could be chasing some female’s tail. He liked a quick in and out. Smash and grab.
Serena was not going to be a quick in and out, though there would be some of that.
“I wouldn’t have taken you for liking the hard stuff,” he commented as the bartender slid his glass toward him.
She downed her whiskey like a shot and pushed her glass at the bartender for a refill. “Love the burn.”
Burn. Yeah. Because that’s what she was doing to him right now.
“You probably think that’s pretty unladylike, don’t you?”
He shook his head, which had begun pounding at the temples. The poison again. “I think it makes you pretty damned hot.”
“Well, aren’t you a charmer.” She frowned. “Are you okay?”
“Fine.” He hooked his foot through one of his backpack straps and tugged it closer to the leg of his stool. His meds were in there, and he wanted to keep them close. “Slight headache.”
“That thing didn’t hurt you, did it?” She put her hand on the side of his head, running her fingers through his hair. His scalp tingled and his body coiled and he hissed in a breath. She jerked her fingers away. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“It’s okay.” His voice was humiliatingly hoarse. “I have aspirin.”
She nodded at his lame response and trailed her finger along the rim of her refilled glass, circling it almost lovingly. “So, when do you head home, Josh?”
Josh. Man, he wasn’t going to survive this. Wraith downed his drink, welcoming the smoky bite and the burn, just like she did. He signaled for more whiskey.
“Whenever I feel like it. I decided to make a vacation out of this trip. One of those one hundred and one things to do before you die.”
She slammed another shot, and a railroad spike of lust hammered into his groin. “So you’ve never been here then?”
“I’ve been here.” Hundreds of times, actually. Egypt was a treasure trove of useful artifacts for Eidolon’s magic collection. “But always for work, never for… pleasure.”
“Ah. What kind of work do you do?”
Here was where he needed to play his cards right. Too much information might make her suspicious, especially if it didn’t jibe with what she’d been told about the “real” Josh. But he needed to tantalize her, reel her in with common interests.
“My brothers and I run a medical center that uses nontraditional cures to treat patients, and I’m in charge of collections.”
“Collections? As in, getting people to pay?”
“Collections, as in assembling the ingredients and mystical objects the doctors sometimes use in the cures.”