Page 19 of The Incubus and the Bodyguard

Her gaze moved briefly to where Cortes sat. “Your friend’s been checking his phone for the past five minutes. I’m guessing he’s about to make his excuses and leave.”

On cue, Cortes appeared at Vlad’s shoulder.

“Sorry to interrupt.” The Colombian didn’t even try to hide his amusement as he dipped his head courteously at Delphine. “I’m heading out. Anya called.”

Vlad strongly suspected that was a lie.

Popo bobbed on Cortes’s shoulder. “Remember what I said about optimal mating conditions—ow!”

The parrot rubbed his beak where Cortes had flicked it.

Delphine’s gaze narrowed ever so slightly. Though it was clear she couldn’t see or hear the bird, her instincts obviously told her something was amiss.

Cortes leaned in to whisper in Vlad’s ear. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“That’s a very short list,” he grunted.

Cortes chuckled and clapped his back before heading for the exit. “I’ll text you tomorrow.” He waved over his shoulder.

Delphine’s gaze returned to Vlad. “Now you really are drinking alone.”

“Not anymore,” Vlad drawled. He raised his glass.

The blonde smiled faintly and clinked hers against his. “Smooth.”

Vlad shrugged. “I try.”

He couldn’t help stare as she took another sip of her drink. The way she moved was riveting, every gesture deliberate and on point. Like she was constantly aware of her body and the space around her.

Even the way she swallowed fascinated him.

Tarang prowled closer, his curiosity a faint, warm pulse through their bond. To Vlad’s surprise, the tiger settled near Delphine’s feet, head cocked as he studied her.

“Military?” Vlad hazarded.

Delphine crunched on an ice cube. “What makes you say that?”

“The way you handled that drunk. That wasn’t some self-defense class move.”

She shrugged. “Maybe I just work out a lot.” Her stare turned piercing. “What about you? You move like someone who knows how to handle himself.”

CHAPTERSEVEN

Vlad discernedthe hidden question in her words.

“I box.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. “It keeps me grounded.”

Delphine cocked her head. “Somehow I doubt that.” She considered him for a moment. “So, what’s your story? Besides drinking good whiskey and making conversation with strange women in bars?”

Vlad’s mouth curved. “Would you believe I’m independently wealthy and spend my days collecting rare books?”

“No,” she replied stoically.

“How about running an underground fight club?”

“Getting warmer.” She took another sip of her drink. “I’m guessing the reality is more complicated.”

Vlad’s smile turned wry. “Isn’t it always?”

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