Lindsey’s Wolves(6)

Would the bronze skin of her arms and legs extend to her entire body? Was it natural? Or did she have tan lines? Perhaps tiny straps of a string bikini would extend across her shoulders and reveal smooth white breasts that would contrast with ripe pink nipples.

Again, he gritted his teeth as he guided her through the front door.

“Good evening, Señor Ramos. We have your table ready. Right this way.”

“How did they…?”

“I came by earlier to make a reservation. So we wouldn’t have to wait,” he explained.

“How thoughtful.” She beamed at him.

“¿Está bién, Señor?” the maître de questioned, his eyebrows raised.

“Is this okay?” Alejandro turned to Lindsey.

“Of course. It’s wonderful.”

“Perfecto, gracias,” he said to the polite man.

He released the breath he’d been holding as she eased into her chair. He didn’t know why he’d been holding his breath. She didn’t seem the type who would have complained about the location of the table.

He just wanted everything to be … perfect.

And it was panning out that way.

The table was small, which had attracted Alejandro right away. He wanted to be able to touch her across the tablecloth. Hoped to share morsels of food. Hell, he wanted to be able to kiss her if he desired, lick dabs of garlic and olive oil from her lips. He wouldn’t, of course, but he wanted the possibility to exist nonetheless.

“The ambience is so … romantic,” she stated, peering around the room. “They even have a little band wandering around. What do you call that?”

“Mariachi. They’ll meander from table to table during the evening. It’s actually a Mexican tradition, but fits in perfect here.”

She was right, of course. He couldn’t have chosen better, assuming the food was as good as the service and atmosphere. Dim lighting interspersed with candles provided the perfect setting for the seduction he had planned.

By the end of the evening, he wanted this woman to be so comfortable with him she wouldn’t balk at seeing him every opportunity they had. He knew it wasn’t customary in the U.S. for new couples to see each other so frequently, among humans that is. But lupines knew in an instant when they met their mate, and Alejandro was as warm-blooded as any American wolf when it came to claiming his woman. He wanted her fast, soon, often, and aggressively.

Now he just had to convince her.

“Their music is wonderful.”

“I’m glad you like it.” He reached across the table and took both her hands in his. “Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”

“I believe you did, but thank you.” A pink blush once again crawled across her cheeks, making Alex wonder if he’d see that same flush across her breasts in the near future. Would her skin blotch in the telltale sign of a satisfied woman after she orgasmed?

Releasing only one hand, he angled a menu in front of her and then opened one for himself.

Five seconds went by before she looked back up at him. “I’d love for you to just order for both of us, if you don’t mind. I have no idea what anything is and I bet you have excellent taste in food.” She bit her lower lip between her teeth and grinned.

“I’d be honored.” Alejandro couldn’t keep himself from reaching up and running the pad of his thumb along her bottom lip, gently releasing it from the clutches of her perfect straight white teeth. “If you don’t have any preferences, I’ll order an assortment of tapas to start. That’ll give you a smattering of foods to explore.”

“Tapas?”

“They’re kind of like what you call appetizers, only smaller. Just a few bites on a small plate. Extremely common and popular in Spain.”

“Sounds heavenly.”

“Is there anything you don’t like?” He gazed into her deep brown eyes, hoping she wasn’t a picky eater. Spaniards loved their food with a passion unmatched in other countries.

“Not at all. I eat everything.”

A shadow fell over them as the waiter approached.

“Good evening. I’m Raúl. I’ll be your server tonight. Can I interest you in some wine?” The waiter had arrived on the tail end of their conversation as though planned. “We have a wonderful house vino from Rueda.”

He had yet to question Lindsey about her preferences when it came to wine. Again, the stars would be so very nicely aligned if this seemingly perfect mate of his also enjoyed the vino rojo of his home country. “Do you like red wine, Lindsey?”

“Sometimes. Let’s try it.” She may have been a bit reserved about the feelings she felt slamming her concerning having met him only yesterday, but he’d have to give her credit for being adventurous. She wasn’t backing down.