Page 62 of Cursed Bonds: An Alpha's Destiny

Actually, I could recall at least a few chapters in my books about fertility magic. Libido enhancement, curing erectile dysfunction, a potion to ease morning sickness, and, yes, one for helping a barren couple get pregnant. I hadn’t really gone over those chapters too much.

“The pay would be, shall we say, extravagant,” Eren added with another shark-toothed grin. “What do you say? Help a guy out?”

If it meant I could get out of here with my skin intact, I’d say whatever I needed to say. Who cared if I was lying as long as Eren bought it?

“I guess I can do some research, see what I can come up with. No promises, though.”

“Fair enough,” he said, stepping back and holding his hands up in surrender. “I do appreciate that. My friend will be happy to hear it.” He turned to leave, but before I could sigh with relief, he turned back. “Oh, one more thing?”

“Yes?” I said, exhausted.

“Let’s keep this little chat to ourselves? No reason for anyone else to know about my buddy’s issues. ’Kay?”

“Whatever you say.”

“Cool.” He winked and made a finger gun, pointing at me. “See you soon, Kirsten.”

Eren went to his friend, and thirty seconds later, they were gone. I clung to the rack of clothes to keep my knees from giving out. God, there was something about that guy that was beyond creepy.

I wasn’t in the mood to buy lingerie anymore, but I didn’t want to leave the store too soon. The last thing I wanted was to run across Eren again on the street. I forced myself to browse a bit to kill time, and eventually I did grab one item from the back lingerie area. It wasn’t as risqué as Harley probably would have liked, but it was much more skimpy than anything I’d ever worn before.

I shrugged. It was a good compromise.

Leaving the store gave me the strangest sensation that I was stepping out into a dangerous battlefield. Danger could be lurking around any corner. I didn’t breathe easy until I was back in my car with the doors locked. I gave a little shudder of relief as I started my car and backed out. As I drove, I kept checking my mirrors and glancing at passing cars. I had no clue what Eren might be driving, so it was probably pointless, but I couldn’t stop myself.

Home again and safe behind my ward, I allowed myself to relax at last. I spent the rest of the day going through more of Nana’s things—thankfully, nothing else was earth-shattering—and getting ready for dinner at Jace’s. If there was one good thing about Eren accosting me in the city, it was the fact that it had stopped me from stressing about the date.

When I arrived at Jace’s place, my thoughts were less chaotic, the encounter with Eren pushed to the back of my mind. He greeted me at the door, again dressed in a way that complemented his muscular physique. I’d worn a simple sundress, though the little number I’d bought in the city was underneath.

“Evening,” Jace said as I stepped up onto his porch.

“Hey.”

He took my hand to lead me inside, then kissed me lightly. “I hope you’re hungry,” he said.

A delectable scent hit me then, and I realized that with the events of the day, I hadn’t eaten anything. Not even breakfast. Two or three cups of coffee was all I’d managed. My stomach gave a lurch and growled so loud that even if Jace wasn’t a shifter, he would have heard it.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he said with a grin.

“A little,” I admitted.

The table in the dining room was set with plates, glasses, and silverware. A bottle of white wine sat chilling in a small bucket along with a big bowl of salad, a dish I didn’t recognize, and a strange-looking pasty at the center of the table.

“Um, what are we having?” I asked as I took a seat.

Jace pointed the items out as he spoke. “Chopped salad with blue cheese vinaigrette, a potato soufflé. Just imagine the softest and fluffiest mashed potatoes you’ve had in your life,” he said, explaining the potato dish. “And Beef Wellington.”

“Amazing,” I said, then added hesitantly, “What’s Beef Wellington?”

He took his own seat and laughed. “Sorry. It a beef fillet, seared, and then surrounded in a mushroom pâté, wrapped in puff pastry and baked to medium rare.”

I stared at the food in awe. I was a pretty decent cook, but there was no way I’d have any idea of where to begin with all this.

“You made all of this?” I asked, staring at him with open-mouthed wonder.

Jace shrugged. “Mostly. I used frozen puff pastry because this all took most of the day, and I didn’t want to add more to my plate.”

“Holy crap,” I blurted. “Where did you learn to make this? Culinary school or something?”

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