he’d bet a hundred bucks that she’d borrowed the boots from one of her friends. Her slight concession to Bourbon Street fashion.
Still, her attire wasn’t remotely risqué, but his body reacted all the same. Damn, she was pretty.
“Ah, now I know why you keep messing up the lyrics,” Drake leaned in to say, wiggling his eyebrows as he followed Ren’s gaze.
Ren didn’t bother to reply. It was true: since laying eyes on this woman, he hadn’t been able to focus on anything else. So what would it really hurt if he went for it and tried to seduce her?
Sure, he was a vampire. Sure, she might, by some weird twist of fate, know the music he composed nearly two centuries ago. In the end, she would be just like all the other women he slept with—a tourist going back to her normal life, leaving him behind on Bourbon Street.
Maggie could not believe her ears. Was Ren actually up there announcing to the whole bar that they were friends? This guy really took blowing hot and cold to a whole new level.
“What is he doing?” Jo asked, obviously as confused by the abrupt change in behavior as Maggie was. He really was impossible to understand.
“So this song is for Maggie.” He smiled at her again, then said something to the guitarist on his right. The music started, but Maggie didn’t immediately recognize the tune.
Maybe this was just his way of apologizing for asking her to wait around only to leave almost as soon as they began to chat. Maybe he realized she’d been embarrassed—which actually made her feel even more embarrassed now.
Then she heard the lyrics.
A violent blush burned her cheeks. She could not be hearing this right. He wanted her to want him? He needed her to need him?
This was a joke, right?
“Subtle,” Jo murmured.
“I think it’s sweet.” Erika practically sighed.
Maggie shot Erika an amazed look, then realized that most of the patrons in the bar were looking at her with the same goofy smile Erika sported.
Maggie’s cheeks burned even more. This was just cruel; a mean joke. It had to be. Nothing that happen between them last night could lead her to believe he could mean any of what he was singing.
Suddenly she was back in another place feeling just as stupid, then too the butt of some colossal joke.
Her cheeks still burned, but now with irritation. God, she was so stupid. To come back here—
because a fortune-teller saw it in a bunch of wet tea leaves.
She didn’t say a word to her friends as she strode past the stage and out the door.
She’d made it a block down the street, past the mechanical swinging legs protruding through the window of one of the many nudie bars, when she heard her name being called. But it wasn’t Jo or Erika as she expected.
She spun, slipping on one of the many strands of Mardi Gras beads that littered the street—even though it wasn’t close to Mardi Gras yet. Obviously another joke by the universe to make her feel stupid. But before she could fall, a strong hand reached out to catch her arm and steady her.
She regained her balance and stared up into hazel eyes, one fringed with white lashes.
“Maggie,” Ren said, not releasing his hold on her, although he loosened his grip. Maybe to let her know he wasn’t going to stop her if she really wanted to go.
She told herself to do just that. Go. But instead she remained still, staring at where his fingers touched her bare skin.
And darn it, her body reacted to him. Even as she felt the burn of humiliation, she also felt the hot tingle of attraction.
“I don’t appreciate you making me the target of some private joke back there,” she said, managing to keep her voice even, despite her embarrassment, despite her arousal.
“I wasn’t,” he said, his own voice sounding sincerely confused.
She stopped staring at his hand and met his gaze. “You’d have to be. There was no other reason to sing that song.”
A small smile curled his lips. “Actually, I can think of
Still, her attire wasn’t remotely risqué, but his body reacted all the same. Damn, she was pretty.
“Ah, now I know why you keep messing up the lyrics,” Drake leaned in to say, wiggling his eyebrows as he followed Ren’s gaze.
Ren didn’t bother to reply. It was true: since laying eyes on this woman, he hadn’t been able to focus on anything else. So what would it really hurt if he went for it and tried to seduce her?
Sure, he was a vampire. Sure, she might, by some weird twist of fate, know the music he composed nearly two centuries ago. In the end, she would be just like all the other women he slept with—a tourist going back to her normal life, leaving him behind on Bourbon Street.
Maggie could not believe her ears. Was Ren actually up there announcing to the whole bar that they were friends? This guy really took blowing hot and cold to a whole new level.
“What is he doing?” Jo asked, obviously as confused by the abrupt change in behavior as Maggie was. He really was impossible to understand.
“So this song is for Maggie.” He smiled at her again, then said something to the guitarist on his right. The music started, but Maggie didn’t immediately recognize the tune.
Maybe this was just his way of apologizing for asking her to wait around only to leave almost as soon as they began to chat. Maybe he realized she’d been embarrassed—which actually made her feel even more embarrassed now.
Then she heard the lyrics.
A violent blush burned her cheeks. She could not be hearing this right. He wanted her to want him? He needed her to need him?
This was a joke, right?
“Subtle,” Jo murmured.
“I think it’s sweet.” Erika practically sighed.
Maggie shot Erika an amazed look, then realized that most of the patrons in the bar were looking at her with the same goofy smile Erika sported.
Maggie’s cheeks burned even more. This was just cruel; a mean joke. It had to be. Nothing that happen between them last night could lead her to believe he could mean any of what he was singing.
Suddenly she was back in another place feeling just as stupid, then too the butt of some colossal joke.
Her cheeks still burned, but now with irritation. God, she was so stupid. To come back here—
because a fortune-teller saw it in a bunch of wet tea leaves.
She didn’t say a word to her friends as she strode past the stage and out the door.
She’d made it a block down the street, past the mechanical swinging legs protruding through the window of one of the many nudie bars, when she heard her name being called. But it wasn’t Jo or Erika as she expected.
She spun, slipping on one of the many strands of Mardi Gras beads that littered the street—even though it wasn’t close to Mardi Gras yet. Obviously another joke by the universe to make her feel stupid. But before she could fall, a strong hand reached out to catch her arm and steady her.
She regained her balance and stared up into hazel eyes, one fringed with white lashes.
“Maggie,” Ren said, not releasing his hold on her, although he loosened his grip. Maybe to let her know he wasn’t going to stop her if she really wanted to go.
She told herself to do just that. Go. But instead she remained still, staring at where his fingers touched her bare skin.
And darn it, her body reacted to him. Even as she felt the burn of humiliation, she also felt the hot tingle of attraction.
“I don’t appreciate you making me the target of some private joke back there,” she said, managing to keep her voice even, despite her embarrassment, despite her arousal.
“I wasn’t,” he said, his own voice sounding sincerely confused.
She stopped staring at his hand and met his gaze. “You’d have to be. There was no other reason to sing that song.”
A small smile curled his lips. “Actually, I can think of
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