Page 77 of De-Witched

“Well...there was...okay, not him. Paul was...well, he isn’t the best example.” Leah trailed off, irritated when she couldn’t name anyone. That hidden truth mocked her. “I have bad taste,” she argued, flushing hot.

Tia snorted. “You’re telling me.” Leah made a face at her and she smirked back. “I’m just saying, be careful. This isn’t the guy to finally commit to—because he can’t commit back, and I’d honestly have you committed before it went that far. He’d never choose you over the rules. That warlock is too black-and-white.”

Leah wanted to argue, but now wasn’t the time to get into it. Besides, “I’m not in love with him or anything. God, Kole was acting the same way. I just...” She tried to find the words to explain why she needed to pursue this, couldn’t.

“I honestly don’t get it.” Tia looked across at Gabriel, who’d emerged from whatever rock he’d been under. “He’s too uptight to be a good lover.”

“Shhh,” Emma hushed, seeing a woman turn to them in surprise. She smiled weakly, then swatted Tia. “Would you keep it down?”

“C’mon, tell me you don’t agree.”

“Don’t get me involved.” Though she couldn’t resist adding, “But if you ask me, he’s got a real Tarzan, Jane vibe.”

Tia gagged as Leah’s smile widened. “I’ll find out, report back.”

“Please.” Tia held up her hands, gestured. “Don’t.”

It was another twenty minutes before she worked around to where Gabriel was standing alone. Warmed from her friends’ wary acceptance—because that’s what that had been—Leah was all set to barrel through any objections he had. She was done thinking.

Goodnight, you’re mine.

Pleasure bloomed at the sight of him. Not a hair out of place, he looked as suited to this finery as any of the elite here. She knew what they saw: someone cold, someone formal, someone unapproachable.

She saw Gabe.

He looked up, neutral at her approach.

She didn’t bother with small talk. “Dance with me?”

Something electric leaped between them as he slid his hand into hers, turned toward the dance floor. Something slow played now, moody, as they joined the other couples.

Bastian had stolen Emma, tucking her into his body and whispering in her ear, making her blush. Tia had struck up a conversation with a good-looking guy at one of the tables but would be portalling off soon to check on the bar, which they’d left in the care of a recent hire.

Leah forgot them both as Gabriel placed a hand on the small of her back, bared by her dress. Skin to skin. The intimate touch ignited a liquid warmth low in her belly as he moved them to the music.

“It’s going well, don’t you think?” Her eyes traced the dark soon-to-be-stubble on his chin, the angle of his jaw. She wanted to nip there. “Even Chuck behaved.”

“Except for the one woman,” he agreed.

“I’m sure she’ll be able to get wine out of that dress.”

“Is that why you threw more on her?”

“Look, I heard white wine helps get red wine stains out.”

“Fire also works but I wouldn’t recommend it.”

She’d have laughed, but it wasn’t Gabe speaking to her. He was using his social voice. He was hiding from her.

She wouldn’t allow it. “Thanks. For all of this.”

“I did nothing.”

“Sure.” She snorted, enjoying the swish of her skirts as his legs glided against hers. “Except come up with the idea, help plan it, implement it.”

“I was bored.”

“I think you like me,” she teased.

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