dear.” He bent over her hand, kissing her knuckles. “It only needs one thing to complete the look.”
He opened the box, presenting her with it. She gasped at the rainbows of light twinkling in reflection off a myriad of diamonds and emeralds. There was a necklace, earrings and a bracelet.
The exquisitely matched set had the look of antiquity.
“They’re beautiful.” Her voice was breathy and hushed as he lifted the bracelet from the box to drape around her wrist. He fastened the catch and then moved behind her to do the same with the necklace.
She’d put her hair up for the occasion so only a few loose tendrils of her hair teased her neck.
Dante blew them out of his way with a soft breath that made her shiver. The platinum of the necklace was cool against her neck but warmed rapidly, as did her entire body with Dante so close.
“Put on the earrings.” He handed her the old fashioned dangles as he stepped around to look at her. She complied while he watched, the fire in his eyes making her breathless. “I was right,” he said as she fastened the second earring and faced him. “Emeralds suit you, Megan. You’ll be the belle of the ball.”
She didn’t argue though she was certain she didn’t look that good. Oh, she admitted she looked better than she ever had. She cleaned up well for a half-breed wolf. There was no doubt in her mind though, wherever he was taking her, other women would be lined up for his attention.
He was dashing in white tie and tails. He looked as if he’d been born to model formal wear, and she had to keep reminding herself that he was just a job. There could be no future in anything between them. She had to do her work, report back to her keeper and then she would be free to go on her way.
“So where exactly are we going?” She needed to bring this dazzling moment to an end and focus on her objective.
“Even I have to dance attendance on the Mistress from time to time. She rules this area and when she issues an invitation, it is always wiser to accept than to decline.”
“Mistress? Not Master? I thought your kind had Masters in every region.”
“In rare instances, women hold the office. Because the position is won by prevailing in combat, few women have the stomach for being constantly sized up and challenged at the first sign of weakness, or the desire to even try to keep the rest of us in line.”
“So what is this Mistress like?”
“The New York Mistress is an exceptional female with a keen mind for political intrigue. I’d say she thinks her job is fun, having met her a few times in the past. She has a somewhat perverse sense of humor.” Dante seemed amused by his own words.
He let her precede him out the door to a waiting stretch limousine. Duncan was nowhere to be seen, so she assumed he hadn’t been invited. For that matter, she hadn’t been invited. She surmised from their clothing that she was the obligatory date for whatever social occasion demanded formal attire from a century past.
The limo took them to a downtown edifice that had once been a church. Not just a church but something only a little less grand than a full-fledged cathedral. This place had gargoyles on the battlements and carvings of all kinds gracing its stone walls. Even from a distance, Megan could sniff out the fact that not all the gargoyles peering over the crowd were made of stone.
Shivers coursed over her spine when they entered through massive carved wood and steel doors into a cavernous vestibule. They didn’t get far before an officious man with a list spoke to Dante.
He looked down his nose at Megan until he got a good look at her, then his expression changed.
It was almost comical how he reacted once he realized she was were .
The majordomo—that’s what she assumed his function was—was a vampire. The shiver returned when Megan realized she was literally surrounded by vamps of every description, all staring at her as they paused in the vestibule
He opened the box, presenting her with it. She gasped at the rainbows of light twinkling in reflection off a myriad of diamonds and emeralds. There was a necklace, earrings and a bracelet.
The exquisitely matched set had the look of antiquity.
“They’re beautiful.” Her voice was breathy and hushed as he lifted the bracelet from the box to drape around her wrist. He fastened the catch and then moved behind her to do the same with the necklace.
She’d put her hair up for the occasion so only a few loose tendrils of her hair teased her neck.
Dante blew them out of his way with a soft breath that made her shiver. The platinum of the necklace was cool against her neck but warmed rapidly, as did her entire body with Dante so close.
“Put on the earrings.” He handed her the old fashioned dangles as he stepped around to look at her. She complied while he watched, the fire in his eyes making her breathless. “I was right,” he said as she fastened the second earring and faced him. “Emeralds suit you, Megan. You’ll be the belle of the ball.”
She didn’t argue though she was certain she didn’t look that good. Oh, she admitted she looked better than she ever had. She cleaned up well for a half-breed wolf. There was no doubt in her mind though, wherever he was taking her, other women would be lined up for his attention.
He was dashing in white tie and tails. He looked as if he’d been born to model formal wear, and she had to keep reminding herself that he was just a job. There could be no future in anything between them. She had to do her work, report back to her keeper and then she would be free to go on her way.
“So where exactly are we going?” She needed to bring this dazzling moment to an end and focus on her objective.
“Even I have to dance attendance on the Mistress from time to time. She rules this area and when she issues an invitation, it is always wiser to accept than to decline.”
“Mistress? Not Master? I thought your kind had Masters in every region.”
“In rare instances, women hold the office. Because the position is won by prevailing in combat, few women have the stomach for being constantly sized up and challenged at the first sign of weakness, or the desire to even try to keep the rest of us in line.”
“So what is this Mistress like?”
“The New York Mistress is an exceptional female with a keen mind for political intrigue. I’d say she thinks her job is fun, having met her a few times in the past. She has a somewhat perverse sense of humor.” Dante seemed amused by his own words.
He let her precede him out the door to a waiting stretch limousine. Duncan was nowhere to be seen, so she assumed he hadn’t been invited. For that matter, she hadn’t been invited. She surmised from their clothing that she was the obligatory date for whatever social occasion demanded formal attire from a century past.
The limo took them to a downtown edifice that had once been a church. Not just a church but something only a little less grand than a full-fledged cathedral. This place had gargoyles on the battlements and carvings of all kinds gracing its stone walls. Even from a distance, Megan could sniff out the fact that not all the gargoyles peering over the crowd were made of stone.
Shivers coursed over her spine when they entered through massive carved wood and steel doors into a cavernous vestibule. They didn’t get far before an officious man with a list spoke to Dante.
He looked down his nose at Megan until he got a good look at her, then his expression changed.
It was almost comical how he reacted once he realized she was were .
The majordomo—that’s what she assumed his function was—was a vampire. The shiver returned when Megan realized she was literally surrounded by vamps of every description, all staring at her as they paused in the vestibule
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