Page 40 of Tempting the Dhampir

Using our phones seems like a much easier method than running to a random floor.

Sadie rolls her eyes at me, but a smile plays around the corners of her mouth.

When we get downstairs, I stick my elbow out for her, just like I did on the island. “Milady.”

She settles her hand easily in the crook of my elbow, like we’ve done this a thousand times before, and I marvel at how natural things feel between us.

I lead her to Liha, our best steak restaurant. This time she doesn’t attempt to hide her dazzled expression.

I try to see it from Sadie’s point of view, wondering what’s fascinating her the most, but the way the amber glow from the low-hanging chandelier plays across her skin has me reaching for words. I’m momentarily struck speechless as I study her.

Her eyes are lit with excitement as they dart around the room, taking in each detail. From the low black leather armchairs to the high-backed tufted royal-blue velvet ones. From the burgundy-and-gold wallpaper and the framed photos covering the walls to the fully stocked bar at the center of the room.

I walk us over to a booth in the back that’s always reserved for me, waiting for her to scoot in before I slide in on her other side.

“This place is beautiful. I’ve seen pictures online, but it’s so much better in real life. The lighting, the music, the ambiance—it’s perfect.” Sadie’s eyes keep roaming around, fingers playing with the sequins on her skirt.

She’s such an interesting dichotomy, and I have a deep-seated desire to puzzle her out. One moment she’s fully confident, but then when I say something nice, she gets a look of disbelief on her face, like she doesn’t usually expect people to be considerate of her preferences.

I want, no, I need her to trust me. To feel safe enough to be herself around me.

“It’s my favorite place to eat. I’d hoped you’d like it. You said you wanted the steak? How do you take it?” Please say rare, please say rare, please say rare.

“Rare. That’s the only way to go,” Sadie says without hesitation.

My heart just stopped and kick-started back to life, racing like a cheetah with its tail on fire. Could this woman be any more perfect for me?

I take a surreptitious breath in and respond casually, “We can agree on that. I only eat mine rare. Maximum flavor.”

Choosing that moment to divert her attention, I signal the waiter over and order our steaks—my portion double hers. I don’t know why the thought comes to me, but I’m pleased that she’s comfortable with seeing blood. Maybe my dormant vampire genes are peeking out to appreciate her.

“Let’s play a get-to-know-you game.”

Sadie narrows her eyes at me. “I’m a bit hesitant to play another game with you when I’m distracted by good food.”

“No wagers, no repercussions. Just rapid-fire questions,” I reassure her.

I only want this to be fun, no heavy topics to put her on the back foot.

“How many do we each get?” She cocks her head at me, my gaze instantly drawn to her beautifully elegant neck.

I’ve never given necks a thought in my life. As a dhampir, I don’t need or want blood. But why am I suddenly watching her pulse throb under a very thin layer of skin?

Blinking away my weird thoughts about Sadie’s blood, I answer her question. “Let’s do five tonight, five tomorrow, and so on. We’ll keep them light tonight, and as time passes, we can choose to increase the intensity.”

I like to pretend that I spontaneously came up with this idea now, when, in fact, I’ve been contemplating ways to get to know her better. Making this a game and starting out light should help build her trust in me, which has somehow become imperative.

Sadie nods in approval. “I like that. But let’s each get the option to veto one.”

“Done. First question. What’s your favorite flower?” I waste no time in getting to know her.

Sadie’s eyes widen and a laugh falls from her. It’s a magical sound. I don’t think I’ve heard her carefree laugh until now. I might just have to resort to doing crazy things to ensure she’ll laugh like that more. Every day.

“That’s what you want to know?” she asks through her laughter, clearly amused by my easy question.

“Is that your first question?” I taunt slyly.

“No!” she cries. “Peonies. I love peonies.”

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