“Cinderella,” Raoul commented as he did a quick survey of the roomy interior. “Good band in their time.”
With the car in gear, I risked a glance in his direction. Our sudden close confines didn’t sit well with me. A funny smile played along his perfectly shaped lips. I think it had something to do with the Cinderella song, a nostalgia of sorts.
“I didn’t listen to them much myself.” Driving was a good, valid excuse not to have to look directly at him. “I was always more of a Motley Crue kind of girl.”
“Nice.”
Silence fell, and with it, the tension grew thick enough to dance on. Just great. The ten minute drive to Raoul’s house was going to feel like an eternity. I messed around with the air conditioner settings when we came to a red light. I’d take any excuse to focus my attention on something other than useless small talk.
The light turned green, and I pulled onto a nearly empty street. One lone car sped past going in the opposite direction.
“I didn’t murder Julie.” He spoke so fast that I almost didn’t catch the words. His stiff posture looked uncomfortable, and I knew it couldn’t possibly be because of my super comfy seats.
“Um, ok.” Another glance at him revealed both fists clenched tightly on his lap. There was a desperation in his energy that picked at my senses.
“I think someone’s trying to set me up. Probably that good for nothing husband of hers.”
I didn’t need to look to know that he was staring at me, gauging my reaction. Ever the careful driver, I focused on nothing but the road ahead.
“Well, no offense, Raoul, but perhaps you should make a habit of seeing single women.” I shrugged a shoulder to emphasize the casual tone that I forced.
As we approached the train tracks, the red lights began to blink, and I hit the gas hard. I was not letting myself get trapped with him any longer than necessary. Railway tracks successfully bisect the town at three different points. If we got stuck on one side due to a slow moving train, there wasn’t much I could do but wait. By the time I reached the crossing outside of town, I would have spent an extra ten minutes getting there.
The engine gave a mighty rev as we shot over the crossing well before the arms came down. Raoul’s right hand gripped the door handle hard enough to turn his knuckles white. I was keenly aware of the sudden acceleration of his pulse.
He squirmed in his seat, clearly attempting to brush off the split second of fear. “Single women have too many hang ups. It’s never just sex with them.”
The tiny hairs on the back of my neck bristled, and a small fantasy played out in my head in which I throttled him with my bare hands. “God, do you have to be so callous? What’s wrong with wanting more than only to be another nameless number on a list?”
He cast me a look that clearly said I just didn’t get it. My temper began to rise, but I reined it in. In just a few more minutes, he would be gone.
“Don’t be so dramatic.” His ebony locks moved as he chuckled. “You always were the emotional type.”
That had been a direct hit. “Which explains why you were getting acquainted with the booking process rather than me.”
Maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea to do this just one night before the three days of the moon began. The day before, the day of and the day after the full moon is a highly powerful time. Animal urges and instincts are at their strongest and many are unable to deny the call of the wolf. Of course, most of us learned to control it. The moon doesn’t really have every shifter taking multiple partners or turning into a raging wolf in the grocery store checkout line.
Raoul watched me with eyes so dark they were nearly black. He was trying to unnerve me. A piece of shoulder length black hair fell across one eye, and he gave his head a toss. “Oh, here we go. I was wondering how long it would take for the gloves to come off.”
A frustrated growl rumbled in my throat, and I had to look away before his smug smile made me to do something that I’d regret.
“You’re a real piece of work, Raoul, you know that? In just a matter of seconds, you’ve got me wishing that I’d screened your call.” With a quick shoulder check, I changed lanes and then signaled to take the next left after the golf course.
Instead of anger or irritation like I’d anticipated, the conceited jerk threw his head back and laughed heartily. “If only, huh?”
“You’re an ass**le.” My fingers tightened on the wheel, and I forced myself to take a deep breath before I took out one of his eyes with a carefully directed claw.
“Well, I certainly didn’t get rich by always being the nice guy.”
Ain’t that the truth? As I turned into The Fairways, the golf course neighborhood where Raoul lived, I turned the radio up a few notches. Maybe he would get the hint.