Love at Stake (Entangled Covet)(41)

“She was smooth, charming,” Melissa said. “I suppose it comes with the job, that ability to put people around her at ease. With some practice, she’ll fit right into your circles.”

“The benefit was a one-time event. Sasha cornered me.”

“I would have gone with you,” Melissa said. “Not to mention any number of your past lovers who would be more than happy to be on your arm for the night.”

“What’s your point, pet?” He scrawled his signature over an agreement he’d been debating.

“My point was you took her because you didn’t want anyone else.”

Lucian sighed, putting down his pen. “I sense there is a reason for this impromptu visit.”

“I like her,” Melissa said. “And you do too.”

“Of course I do.”

“More than the women you’ve been dating.”

Yes, more than them. More than anyone since Claudette. Abbey made him feel…alive. And after centuries of death, that was something special.

But those were words he would not say to Melissa. She’d be playing matchmaker if he gave her the slightest encouragement.

“You are a romantic, my dear. You always have been.” He reached for a ledger and opened it.

“And you’re a cynic.”

“A realist,” he corrected. “I enjoy Abbey. She’s bright and energetic. But she’s not my mate.” The words stuck in his throat despite the fact that he knew them to be true. Never again would he tie his life to a mortal. He’d learned far too well the pain of losing one he’d cared for. No, that risk was only worthwhile for his mate, and until he found her, he’d content himself with lesser relationships.

Does Abbey count as lesser? his traitorous mind whispered.

“How do you know she’s not your mate?” Melissa asked.

“She’s human.” His fingers ran down a long list of numbers as he reviewed them.

“So were we, once.” She shifted on her chair. “I know you brought her home last night. Did you want to let her leave your bed this morning?”

No, dammit, he hadn’t, but Abbey had insisted on leaving. She valued her job too much to let her coworkers down and he liked her loyalty. But it was one more reason they wouldn’t work out. He needed a woman committed only to him.

“Have you thought of her, sitting here alone with your dusty tomes and countless ledgers?”

“I’ve been working.” But she was right. Abbey was never far from his mind no matter what he was doing.

“It’s all right to let someone new in.”

“I’m actively searching for my mate,” he reminded her.

“And I’m saying you’ve found her.”

The words were like touching a live wire. He looked down at the numbers without seeing them. Abbey as his mate. Abbey in his arms forever.

Abbey dying a human death.

He hissed, slamming the ledger shut. “When I find my mate, I’ll know it. I’m far older than you, pet, and I’ve been searching far longer. I wouldn’t walk away from the chance to claim the one woman meant for me.”

Melissa looked unimpressed. “I think you’re the last person who would know when you found your mate. You’d fight against it with everything in you.”

“You’re barely past your first century. What would you know about this?”

She glanced at him and her eyes looked far older than her youthful face suggested. “I know love is complicated and messy. You order your world so very well, but finding your mate would be a whirlwind that wouldn’t fit into your carefully controlled life. She’d be something new, something different.”

“This conversation is over.”

He half expected her to argue but instead she inclined her head. “I’ve said what I came to say. But one last thing, Lucian. Abbey likes you. She’s growing attached. If you truly don’t want her in any permanent way, you need to think about what you’re doing.”

Lucian bit back the desire to bare his fangs as Melissa left his office. Her words were not welcome ones. Worse, they weren’t ones he hadn’t thought of a dozen times himself.

He’d seen Abbey’s face light up when she looked at him. His little human cared for him, and while the knowledge filled him with a curious satisfaction, he knew it was trouble.

She wasn’t a woman from his world. Hell, she was only supposed to have been a distraction in the first place. On that requirement, she’d succeeded admirably. So admirably that he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

But Melissa was right. He wasn’t being fair, and he prided himself on doing what was right. Always.