He was a rude, condescending ass who was clearly convinced she was far beneath his lofty royal position.
Precisely the sort of man she detested.
But the moment he walked into the room, she was zapped with such an intense sexual reaction that she felt physically compelled to reach out and touch him.
She tried to tell herself that it was merely a predictable reaction to being near a Chatri. They’d once been worshiped as gods by her people, hadn’t they? The urge to become his ready, willing, and eager concubine was surely nothing more than a primitive instinct.
Or maybe she was just one of those women who had shitty taste in men.
She had, after all, believed herself to be in love with her boss, Santiago, who’d recently mated his beloved Nefri.
Whatever the cause, she found her nerves rubbed raw as the prince came to a halt in front of the desk, his expression haughty.
“Where is the Anasso?”
His power wrapped around her, the scent of aged whiskey teasing at her nose. She shuddered as a decadent pleasure bubbled through her blood.
“Do I look like a receptionist?” she forced herself to demand.
He narrowed his stunning cognac eyes. “You look like a lesser fey who should know her place.”
Her hand reached for the paperweight. She wasn’t going to throw it. Not yet.
“My place is at Viper’s club, but because of you I’m stuck here.”
He peered down the length of his noble nose. “It should be an honor to serve me.”
“It’s a waste of my time.”
A frown touched his brows, as if he didn’t know what to do with a female who refused to play by his rules. Then he gave a sharp shake of his head, the overhead chandelier catching the ruby highlights in the long length of his hair.
“I did not come here to speak with you,” he said, his cultured voice holding the edge of an accent. “I need to see the vampire.”
“Why?”
“It is not your concern.”
Her fingers tightened on the paperweight. Styx hadn’t forbidden her from doing bodily harm to the prince when he’d insisted she remain in Chicago.
Still, she didn’t know how long she was going to have to deal with this aggravating male. After punching him in the nose it would probably be better if she resisted further bloodshed for as long as possible.
“Unfortunately it is,” she said stiffly.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Styx has forced . . . requested that I be his liaison.”
“And what does that mean?”
“Any requests you have for the King of Vampires must go through me,” she informed him.
He made a sound of impatience. “That’s unacceptable.”
“No shit,” she muttered. “But that’s the way it is. So what do you want?”
Magnus studied her for a long minute, taking careful note of her stubborn expression. At last he heaved a resigned sigh.
“I wondered if he was aware there has been an imp circling the estate for the past hour.”
“An imp?” Having expected some ridiculous demand, Tonya was caught off guard by the prince’s question. With a smooth motion she was on her feet and heading toward the windows that overlooked the rose garden. When the Chatri had first made their appearance in Chicago, the King of Vampires’ estate had been nearly overrun by fey who were desperate to catch sight of their one-time gods. Then Styx had sent his Ravens to warn the various imps, sprites, fairies, and nymphs that his house wasn’t a damned tourist attraction and that he’d start putting fey heads on spikes if they didn’t stay the hell away. It’d been enough to send the gawkers fleeing in fear. It seemed almost unbelievable that there would be an imp brave enough to invite the Anasso’s wrath. “You’re certain?”
Outrage touched the lean, beautiful face. “Of course I am certain.”
“Male or female?” she demanded. “Did you get a good look at them?”
His gaze followed her hand as it slid into the back pocket of her leather pants to pull out her cell phone, lingering on the lush curve of her ass before it was abruptly jerking up to meet her taunting smile.
“A male,” he said, his voice frigid although Tonya didn’t miss the color that stained the pale honey of his skin. The prince had been sneaking a peek. “And I didn’t see him at all.”
Tonya’s brief flare of amusement was forgotten as she studied him in confusion. “Then how do you know there’s someone out there?”
“I can sense them.”
She blinked in shock. “Even through the layers of magic?”
He shrugged. “It is my talent.”
Her first thought was that he was lying. No one had the ability to detect an imp that was several hundred yards away and on the opposite side of the thick shields that protected the estate.
Then she realized that he had no reason to make up a story.
Not when he could so easily be proved wrong.
“I’ll let Styx know.” Tapping a brief text to the vampire who was no doubt just rising, she lifted her head to meet the cognac gaze that was studying her with an unnerving intensity. “Is there anything else?”