“I’m not wearing some unknown chick’s panties, thanks. I’d rather go commando.”
Spade winked. “That’s the spirit. Make Crispin more amenable to whatever you ask, I daresay.”
I pointed to the door. “Goodbye.”
He just laughed as he left. I wished I were as amused.
I eyed the dress with dread. Once I put this on, there would be no more stalling.
“Fuck it,” I announced out loud. I’d present my offer to Bones, probably get turned down, and be on my way to Vlad’s. I zipped myself up, put on the matching shoes that were a tad too tight, and marched out of the guest room. My hair was still damp. I gave it a shake and glanced around, not seeing anyone.
“Hello?” I called out. Damned if I’d start peeking in doors. Where was Spade? Or Fabian?
“Downstairs.”
It was Bones’s voice. I fought a shiver, giving myself a mental slap. Get a grip.
“Am I supposed to say ‘Marco’?” I asked, going down the stairs.
I heard his amused snort inside the room to the left of the landing. “If you’d like.”
Enter freely and of your own will. I squared my shoulders and did just that.
Bones sat on a brown leather sofa that was a few shades lighter than his eyes. The walls were rust-colored, with white crown molding, and the floors were a darkened oak with thick rugs. He almost matched the room with his outfit; a cream shirt that was unbuttoned at the neck, sleeves rolled up, and tan pants. And he was so friggin’ gorgeous that it hurt just looking at him.
“I wasn’t expecting you, so I don’t have any gin,” he said, filling a glass. “Care for a whiskey instead?”
“Sure. Thanks,” I added as an afterthought, lingering by the door.
He gave me a look as he poured another one. “You didn’t come all the way here just to hug the doorframe, did you?”
Left with few options, I sat, choosing the couch opposite him. As soon as I did, however, I stiffened, remembering my lack of underwear. The dress was a few inches north of my knees. What if Bones thought I was trying to flash him?
“Er, do you mind?” I stammered, quickly taking a seat on his couch, but as far away from him as I could scoot.
An eyebrow rose. “Not at all.”
He handed me the whiskey. I gulped it down in one swallow.
“Thirsty, are you?” he remarked, taking it and filling it to the top. “You must be. Otherwise, one might think you needed liquor in order to speak with me.”
His dry tone told me I was being obvious. I took the glass but only gave it a sip this time.
Bones leaned back, studying me. I felt so self-conscious. If only I had a shield of makeup, some perfectly arranged hair…and oh yeah. Some panties.
He didn’t say anything. The silence extended. Somehow, I couldn’t bring myself to just spill out the reason I’d come. Maybe I hoped he’d pick it from my mind, and I could skip the whole conversation part.
I glanced away, but I could feel his eyes on me. Bones was still half-reclined, sipping his whiskey, watching me until I squirmed. If this was an interrogation technique, it was working. I’d soon be spilling my guts just to break the silent tension.
“Okay, then…let’s get down to it.”
I tried to look at him when I spoke, but I couldn’t. It wasn’t fair that seeing him was so devastating to me and yet so clearly meaningless to him.
“I’m, uh, ready to become a vampire,” I blurted.
Talk about a graceful way to broach the topic. I flicked my gaze to his for a second. Dark brown eyes met mine before I looked away.
The tension made me jumpy. I got up, ready to start pacing, when he set his glass down and his hand shot out to grab me.
I yanked back at once, but his fingers tightened. “Sit down,” he said in a quiet, steely tone.
Short of bracing my legs against his chest and pulling, I wasn’t getting my arm back. Frustrated, I flopped onto the couch. “I’m sitting, now let go of me.”
“I don’t think I will,” he replied with that same metal undertone. “I’m not hurting you, so quit glaring at me, and if you tug away even once more, I’m going to fling myself on top of you until we’re finished with this conversation.”
That stilled me. Bones never made empty threats. The thought of being pinned under him had me alarmed for several reasons, and none of those was fear.
“That’s better.” His grip loosened, but he didn’t release me. “Right then, I have some questions, and you’re going to answer them.”
Why hadn’t I insisted on discussing this over the phone? I mentally groaned.
“Ask. You’ve got me anchored. I can’t go anywhere.”