Page 67 of Lost Girl

“Oh, the Tiger lillies!” Her voice raises a few octaves more. “I forgot all about those!”

“They’re vibrant as hell right now, too. We’ll have to go soon before the weather starts getting too chilly.”

Palm sliding down my arm, she takes hold of my hand and laces our fingers together, littering my skin with goosebumps. “Can we go tomorrow? I don’t want to miss them in all their glory.”

“Whenever you want, little wolf.” I squeeze her hand. “Whenever you want.”

As we near the docks of the port, soft music fills the air, drowning out the analytical whispers. There’s still eyes on us, but they’re fewer and not as attentive.

“Guess someone beat us to that piano,” Wendy states. “Shall we just head to the beach?”

“Nice try, but I’m not letting you off that easy. We can wait.” I withhold a laugh as she lets out a sigh.

“Fine, we’ll wait.”

“What’s wrong? Stagefright?”

“Well, yes,” she admits. “I told you, it’s been awhile since I’ve played. I’ll be rusty.”

“And I’ll be right beside you, so who cares. You’re playing for me, not for them.”

Wendy gazes up at me, beckoning my attention. “You’re lucky you’re you and I’m so fond of you. I’d have told anyone else to fuck off. I only used to play for dad and granddad.”

I don’t know how the hell to respond to that. I probably shouldn’t be taken aback, but I am. I’m fucking ecstatic, too. My chest wants to double in size, my lips want to claim hers, and that asshole trapped beneath my pants...well, you know.

He’s ready to mark her and never let her go.

“I’ll tell you what”—I lead us to some of the available seating at the very back—“We’ll enjoy the entertainment for half an hour max. If the piano still isn’t available by then, we’ll get out of here.”

“Promise?” She yanks me toward her before I can drop into one of the seats.

The look she’s giving me right now—all wide, innocent blues and pouty lips—splits my face with a slow smile. Hands falling to her waist, I pull her into me and drop my lips to her cheek, pressing them against her soft skin with purpose. “I promise, little wolf. Half an hour and then we’re out of here.”

Wendy shivers in my embrace, those dainty little hands of hers stealing up my torso over my shirt. I nearly shiver myself, inhaling a deep breath as my fingers dig into the curve of her figure. “Let’s sit,” she murmurs. “We seem to have attracted an audience.”

Of course we did.

Even so, the last thing I want to do is sit. I could stand here for the rest of the night with her in my arms and be the happiest bastard alive, but she’s already on edge about possibly playing with an audience, so I acquise and ease back, yanking her down with me.

Doesn’t mean I’m not gonna give them something to look at. They want to speculate what the Chief’s son is doing?

How about they speculate this.

As she falls into the seat beside me, I slink an arm over the back of her chair and twiddle my fingers at them, flashing them the cockiest grin I manage.

Eyes widen. Heads snap back toward the stage.

Yeah, that’s right, I saw you.

“Have you ever been to my world?” Wendy asks suddenly, returning my attention where it belongs.

"Just once, wasn't my cup of tea. Way too many people. Don’t get me wrong, I had fun, but I wouldn’t care to live my life there."

"Where did you go?"

"Las Vegas.”

"Ah, yes. Sin City,” she chuckles. “Why am I not surprised? Let me guess, you went with all the Lost Boys?"

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