Kissed by a Dark Prince(76)

“You didn’t need to do that,” she whispered.

“No, what he really didn’t need to do was make a mess of my joint.” The man from behind the bar sounded as pissed as hell and she looked back at him and then around the busy club.

Oh. My. Loren hadn’t frightened away all of the patrons but he had done a rather nice job of rearranging everything within a few metres radius. Broken barstools littered the area around her and there was a huge dent in the black bar top that looked as though Loren had tried to drive the demon’s head through the thick wood, and had succeeded.

She looked for the demon and found him sitting on the floor a few metres away to her left, leaning against the black wall. The female from the bar tended to the wounds Olivia could see beyond the slashes in his black t-shirt. Olivia looked back at Loren.

He diverted his gaze to the floor off to his left. It still lacked focus and he didn’t seem completely stable on his feet. Because of the alcohol? He had never tasted it before.

“Bleu.” Olivia turned a scowl on him. “I thought it was your duty to protect your prince? You knew what would happen if he drank, didn’t you?”

He looked sheepish and raked his fingers through his overlong black hair, confirming her suspicions.

She still wasn’t sure what had happened. She looked back at Loren, staring up at his handsome face until he finally brought his eyes back to her.

“How come the beer made you crazy and not Bleu?” She touched his cheek again and he flinched. She gentled her touch, lightly caressing the bruising.

“I have had no exposure to it.” He didn’t look as though he was going to elaborate.

Olivia looked back at Bleu.

“It is something we have to become accustomed to slowly because of our metabolism. It took me many years to handle more than a sip,” Bleu said and Olivia pieced the rest together for herself.

Loren had drunk a whole bottle of beer and then the remains of her rather potent cocktail. It explained the unfocused look in his eyes and his lack of balance, and also his earlier outburst.

“You’re drunk,” she stated it in a voice that left him no room to argue.

Loren shrugged and smiled, and it hit her straight in the middle of her chest and made her heart miss a beat. The twittering of females drew her attention away from him and she glared daggers at them all. They scurried into the crowd and Olivia grabbed one of the remaining barstools, set it down where Loren had been standing before getting instantly drunk, and manoeuvred him onto it.

He was still almost as tall as she was.

“Idiot,” she muttered and smoothed his black hair back. He had a few nasty cuts in his hairline that were bleeding and his lip was split too. Someone needed to take care of him, and her heart said to let it be her.

Loren parted his knees and she didn’t resist him when he claimed her waist and pulled her closer. His purple gaze turned hooded, focused on her lips. He leaned towards her and she pressed her hands against his chest.

“No. I’m not kissing you when you’re drunk.” It seemed like a reasonable excuse.

Sable arched an eyebrow at her. “So you have been kissing him before tonight then?”

A fierce blush surged up Olivia’s cheeks but she ignored it and continued checking Loren over. The demon seemed to have come off worse than he had, but she couldn’t see the rest of his body. His armour hid it from her eyes and she wasn’t going to ask him to let her see his chest because the irritating women hadn’t gone very far and he was liable to do something stupid when under the influence of the booze. The thought of other women seeing him in all his glory had her squeezing his shoulders and glaring at him.

His black eyebrows rose and a confused edge entered his eyes. Now he thought she was mad at him. That probably wasn’t a bad thing.

He tried to kiss her again.

“Loren!” She pushed him back and Bleu stepped in to help her. He shoved Loren a little too hard, or Loren was more drunk than they had thought, because he ended up falling off the stool and landing in a heap in the broken glass and spilled drinks.

Bleu growled something dark in their language, picked Loren up and set him back down again. Bleu’s black armour peeled away from his arm and she gasped when he turned his wrist towards him and sank his fangs into it. He released his wrist, his lips and fangs bloodied, and shoved it against Loren’s mouth.

Loren tried to get away from it but Bleu held firm, forcing it past his lips. When it became clear that Loren was going to refuse to drink, Bleu snarled at him, grabbed the nape of his neck and tipped his head back. Blood dripped down into Loren’s mouth. His eyes shot wide, the edges of his purple irises flashed brightly, and his torso violently arched forwards.