know, we could not be doing this in public, I murmured back.
I got the private booth. What the hell else are these for?
I laughed, pushing at his chest, but he kissed me again, flooding me with more liquid heat. I felt him wanting to do more again, then pulling back, his light coiling around me in frustration. When he finally ended the kiss a few seconds later, my hands slid back into the open collar of his shirt, caressing his bare chest.
More pain shivered through him as I massaged his muscle and skin.
Tilting his head back on the padded booth, he smiled, but his eyes remained predatory. You’d better eat a lot tonight, Miri. We might not be leaving that room for awhile.
I let out a snort. Someone’s feeling confident.
Just determined... and whatever that other word is, the one you said you’d use instead of spoiled.
Entitled? I teased. Self-absorbed?
Unwilling to compromise. He pulsed another line of liquid fire at me, making my skin flush. He wrapped his hand around my thigh under the table. I already told you I’m going to take my time tonight, Miriam. That little twinge of jealousy about the hostess... the one you’ve been trying to hide from me? It’s only going to make things worse for you.
I rolled my eyes. You’re imagining things.
Oh? Am I? He smiled. That just made things worse for you, too.
I leaned my face towards his, about to answer––
When someone above us cleared their throat.
Four
DINNER GUESTS
THE SOUND MADE me jump about a foot. It wasn’t loud, which only made me realize just how quiet it had been in that secluded booth. It also made me realize that whoever stood there, they’d likely been waiting for us to stop kissing before they tried to get our attention.
When the man spoke, his words were unerringly polite.
“Apologies for the interruption. And thank you, again, for allowing us to meet you here...”
Trailing, he cleared his throat a second time, as if not sure what else to say.
Still fighting that sharp spike of adrenaline from our being interrupted, I turned my head. I knew who was speaking by then. Pretty much as soon as he opened his mouth, I knew.
Even so, I flinched when Mozar’s light blue eyes met mine.
His gaze remained shrewd as he adjusted his tie, smoothing down the front of his light brown dress shirt and centering the tie over it with one hand. In his other hand, he carried a leather satchel crammed full of files and papers.
Tearing his stare off my face when I glanced up a second time, Mozar looked at Black, his expression significantly more uncomfortable. He continued to stand there while Black and I separated from one another on the booth seat.
He was clearly waiting for an invitation before he sat down.
Someone moved just behind him then, twitching the dark curtain. I couldn’t see his face until he maneuvered the rest of the way into our little enclave, but once he had, I found myself relaxing.
“Hawking,” I said.
Mozar’s partner appeared much less embarrassed than Mozar. Smiling faintly, he raised his hand to me in a brief salute.
“Hey, Miri.”
Glancing over his shoulder at the taller man, Mozar swiveled his eyes back to me.
“I really do apologize,” he said. “These developments were... unexpected.”
“Fucking criminals,” Hawking said cheerfully. “No sense of timing.”
I laughed––I couldn’t help it. Hawking so rarely spoke the first time I met him. Apparently this was Hawking after he’d decided someone was on the right side of things.
Mozar shot an annoyed glance at his partner, right before he aimed a more polite one at me. I distinctly got the impression he didn’t like that I was addressing Hawking and not him, or that I was more friendly to Hawking than I was to him, either.
“I wouldn’t have dreamt of bothering the two of you here otherwise,” Mozar continued, clearing his throat as he smoothed the tie again. “When I spoke to Mr. Black about the case this morning, I expected to be with
I got the private booth. What the hell else are these for?
I laughed, pushing at his chest, but he kissed me again, flooding me with more liquid heat. I felt him wanting to do more again, then pulling back, his light coiling around me in frustration. When he finally ended the kiss a few seconds later, my hands slid back into the open collar of his shirt, caressing his bare chest.
More pain shivered through him as I massaged his muscle and skin.
Tilting his head back on the padded booth, he smiled, but his eyes remained predatory. You’d better eat a lot tonight, Miri. We might not be leaving that room for awhile.
I let out a snort. Someone’s feeling confident.
Just determined... and whatever that other word is, the one you said you’d use instead of spoiled.
Entitled? I teased. Self-absorbed?
Unwilling to compromise. He pulsed another line of liquid fire at me, making my skin flush. He wrapped his hand around my thigh under the table. I already told you I’m going to take my time tonight, Miriam. That little twinge of jealousy about the hostess... the one you’ve been trying to hide from me? It’s only going to make things worse for you.
I rolled my eyes. You’re imagining things.
Oh? Am I? He smiled. That just made things worse for you, too.
I leaned my face towards his, about to answer––
When someone above us cleared their throat.
Four
DINNER GUESTS
THE SOUND MADE me jump about a foot. It wasn’t loud, which only made me realize just how quiet it had been in that secluded booth. It also made me realize that whoever stood there, they’d likely been waiting for us to stop kissing before they tried to get our attention.
When the man spoke, his words were unerringly polite.
“Apologies for the interruption. And thank you, again, for allowing us to meet you here...”
Trailing, he cleared his throat a second time, as if not sure what else to say.
Still fighting that sharp spike of adrenaline from our being interrupted, I turned my head. I knew who was speaking by then. Pretty much as soon as he opened his mouth, I knew.
Even so, I flinched when Mozar’s light blue eyes met mine.
His gaze remained shrewd as he adjusted his tie, smoothing down the front of his light brown dress shirt and centering the tie over it with one hand. In his other hand, he carried a leather satchel crammed full of files and papers.
Tearing his stare off my face when I glanced up a second time, Mozar looked at Black, his expression significantly more uncomfortable. He continued to stand there while Black and I separated from one another on the booth seat.
He was clearly waiting for an invitation before he sat down.
Someone moved just behind him then, twitching the dark curtain. I couldn’t see his face until he maneuvered the rest of the way into our little enclave, but once he had, I found myself relaxing.
“Hawking,” I said.
Mozar’s partner appeared much less embarrassed than Mozar. Smiling faintly, he raised his hand to me in a brief salute.
“Hey, Miri.”
Glancing over his shoulder at the taller man, Mozar swiveled his eyes back to me.
“I really do apologize,” he said. “These developments were... unexpected.”
“Fucking criminals,” Hawking said cheerfully. “No sense of timing.”
I laughed––I couldn’t help it. Hawking so rarely spoke the first time I met him. Apparently this was Hawking after he’d decided someone was on the right side of things.
Mozar shot an annoyed glance at his partner, right before he aimed a more polite one at me. I distinctly got the impression he didn’t like that I was addressing Hawking and not him, or that I was more friendly to Hawking than I was to him, either.
“I wouldn’t have dreamt of bothering the two of you here otherwise,” Mozar continued, clearing his throat as he smoothed the tie again. “When I spoke to Mr. Black about the case this morning, I expected to be with
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