Page 35 of Fae Devoted
“Naturally.”
“If I told you, I’d have to kiss you.”
Tucker placed his palms on the door above her head, ensuring it stayed closed and caging her in. He bent until their noses almost touched, the last several hours pushing his restraint to the boiling point. “Kill me. You’d have tokillme.”
“Why ever would I ever want to do that?” she asked, voice breathless and airy.
Giving in to the never-ending temptation that was Jo, he lowered another inch and gently brushed his lips over hers. Heat ignited at the light touch, and the brief caress he intended to calm his wolf escalated into mouths pressing together in explosive need. The nails-on-a-chalkboard screech of his claws scraping the metal underneath the padding brought Tucker to his senses, and he broke the kiss on a harsh gasp.
Jo’s forehead landed on his breastbone with a dull thud whilehisplanted against the door with a sharper thwack. Neither spoke, the rasp of their erratic breathing the only communication between them for several minutes.
“What did you find out?” he finally managed.
Jo lifted her head and released a heavy sigh, the sound reminiscent of a Guard instructor disappointed by the actions of a stubborn trainee failing to learn a repeated lesson. “Nothing yet, but I’ve been invited to a party later tonight.”
“By whom?”
“Stephen, the dark-haired witch from the casino. He asked me to go as his date.”
Tucker’s throat rumbled, and Jo absently rubbed his chest, her instincts in tune with his wolf since the beginning of their relationship. Her touch never failed to soothe him, even when she was irritated by Tucker’s overprotective tendencies or those of every other Ferwyn male in her life.
“I think he’s trying to impress me with who’s hosting the party.” She all but buzzed with excitement.
“And who would that be?”
“Patriarch Julien DuPont.”
Julien DuPont was the most powerful vampire in the territory and a total unknown. A wildcard Tucker hadn’t met and didn’t trust.
“Where?”
“The penthouse suite.”
Fear punched Tucker in the gut. The hotel’s top floor was one of the few places he couldn’t access without a special guest key. He’d be nowhere near Jo if there were trouble. “No.”
“I bet he knows everything that’s going on in the city, and every Fae Touched that steps foot inside the Rivière.” She frowned. “Hopefully, noteverybodythat walks in the door. We don’t want him finding out about you.”
“You’re not going.”
It was as if Tucker hadn’t spoken.
“I doubt there’ll be any shifters attending. Stephen told me it would be a small gathering to celebrate the patriarch’s consort’sfiftieth birthday. She’s a witch and Stephen’s cousin. Which, of course, makes her a witch, duh. Anyhoo, can you believe how lucky it was to meet him? It had to be fate.”
“You’ll be on your own.”
“I’ll leave my phone on speaker. You’ll be able to hear everything.”
He swore under his breath. “I don’t like it.”
“We can’t miss this opportunity. I can feel it, Jacob. He’ll know something. An outcast like your brother wouldn’t have gone unnoticed by the resident vamps.”
“No, not with the damage on his face.”
“You never mentioned Jeremiah was wounded the last time you saw him.”
“Not wounded, Jo. Scarred.” Leaving a single hand on the door as a precaution, Tucker ran his forefinger in a curved line from his right temple to the corner of his mouth. “Jeremiah is permanently disfigured.”
“Maybe he was cut with wrought iron.” Jo shuddered, pulled his hand from where it still hovered beside his lips, and threaded their fingers together. “Injuries caused by the purest ore can prolong the healing time.”
