Josie Lynn looked cute and sexy and kind of hip. Even the boots worked with the outfit.
But he’d already learned where saying anything flirty would get him: standing outside the walls she put around herself. So he simply nodded. “It looks fine.”
She inspected it once more, tugging down the hem a little, then said, “I’d like to go back to Gautreaux’s. I want to see if my stuff is still there, and maybe if it is, we could test the punch bowl or glasses for traces of whatever drug was used.”
“Good idea.”
They headed down St. Louis toward Chartres, where the reception venue was.
“If it is the band of marauding Chers who did this, do you think robbery was their main goal?”
Drake shrugged. “Who can know what marauding Chers want, but since we don’t have any of our valuables, it seems likely.”
“But why were we missing our clothing, too?”
“Well, I don’t know if you recall how you felt before you blacked out, but I do, and I definitely wanted to be doing things that required me losing my clothes.”
Josie Lynn didn’t say anything, but her deep pink blush was answer enough.
They both fell silent.
“Do—do you think we did have sex?” she asked, her voice quieter than normal. Her cheeks pinker still.
“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “But I think it’s very possible. What do you think?”
When she fell quiet again, he glanced at her profile. Her lips were pressed firmly together, and she blinked several times as if she was fighting tears. That was answer enough, too.
It was on the tip of his tongue to ask if she felt different, if she thought she could even tell, physically, if something might have happened. But her forlorn expression stopped him. He reached out to touch her arm. “Are you okay?”
She nodded. “I—I just hope all my catering stuff is still at Gautreaux’s.”
Drake didn’t doubt she was concerned about that, but he knew that wasn’t what had her ready to cry. He tried not to be offended that the idea of possibly having had sex with him brought her to tears. After all, she had made it clear, pre-drugging, that she wasn’t interested in him, and if they had done the dirty, the act hadn’t been her choice, but because of the effects of the drug.
He had to admit that he didn’t like the idea either.
“You know what, we probably didn’t,” he said with feigned decisiveness.
“You don’t think so?”
He shook his head. “Nope, and since we don’t remember what happened anyway, I think we might as well assume nothing did.”
She didn’t say anything more, and he got the distinct feeling that plan didn’t soothe her as much as she’d like.
Chapter Nine
VOULEZ-VOUS COUCHER AVEC MOI?
“SO how do you think we wound up wearing handcuffs?” Lizette asked Johnny as they sat outside of Saxon’s apartment on two rickety iron chairs on the narrow balcony. The drink he had handed her was resting in her grip, and she had her legs crossed, giving her appearance a sense of propriety she didn’t feel. But it was actually pleasant to finally stop tromping around and just sit in the warm air and try to calm down. The courtyard was completely empty, only two apartments having access to it, and it felt safe to Lizette.
“Your guess is as good as mine.”
Not normally prone to hysterics, she had been quite close to having a complete breakdown when she had seen the picture of Johnny biting her neck. It had looked so . . . sexy. So . . . public. “Were we wearing handcuffs in the photo?”
“No. So I guess we can still assume that it happened at Zelda’s later in the night.”
“Perhaps you meant it as a flirtation.”
“Hey!” He smiled at her. “How do you know it was my idea? Maybe it was your way of keeping me close at hand until you could get all your questions about ‘The List’ answered.”
It was clear what he thought of her job. It should have bothered her more than it actually did. But he sounded more teasing than anything else, and she had to admit that was something she appreciated about Johnny. He didn’t seem prone to hysterics either, and he definitely took the approach that life was meant for laughing. Lizette found that a refreshing change from the ancient and dusty vampires in the VA who clung to brooding traditions. To them, shopping for a new coffin was a hot night on the town. Johnny didn’t even have a coffin. She knew because it wasn’t on the list.
“I highly doubt that I would resort to handcuffs. Then again, I can’t say I behaved the way I normally would have last night.” She stared down into her glass. “I have compromised this case, you know. I will have to return to Paris and have it reassigned. It wouldn’t be ethical for me to be the one investigating your identity when I have . . . when we . . .” Lizette forced herself to say it. “When we have been sexually intimate.”