Lover at Last (Black Dagger Brotherhood #11)(152)
Author: J.R. Ward

Yup, given his most recent…predilection…he liked the way he felt in the decor, in these clothes, with this mind-set.

Of course, the illusion was going to be shattered as soon as he reached his club, but here was where the up-and-up mattered.

Or…might matter.

For f**k’s sake, he hoped to goddamn hell it would finally matter.

His Chosen, the one he’d met up north at Rehv’s Great Camp, and had seen that first night he’d arrived, hadn’t been around. So in a way, he thought as he walked out, all this wardrobe nonsense and appearances stuff had been for nothing much.

He was optimistic, though. Through a series of carefully orchestrated conversations with various household members, he’d learned that the Chosen Layla had been servicing the blood needs of folks who’d had them – but could no longer do so, thanks to her pregnancy.

Blessed event, indeed.

So the Chosen Selena…

Selena. What a great name that was….

Anywho, the Chosen Selena had been coming to take care of these things, and that meant, sooner or later, she had to be back. Vishous, Rhage, Blay, Qhuinn, and Saxton all had to feed regularly, and given the way those boys had been fighting for the past couple of nights, they were going to need a vein.

Which meant she had to come.

Although…damn. He couldn’t say he really appreciated the reason why. The idea of someone else at her vein kind of made him want to go Ginsu on whoever it was.

All things considered, his obsession was a little sad, particularly in its manifestations: Every night for the past week, he’d hung around after First Meal, waiting, looking casual, talking to the godforsaken Lassiter – who was actually not that bad a guy when you got to know him. Matter of fact, that angel was a font of information about the house, and so into his crap TV that he didn’t seem to notice how many questions were clustered around the subject of the females. The Primale. Whether there was any hooking up going on anywhere, with anybody outside of mated couples.

Pausing by his computer, he turned off The Howard Stern Show, cutting short another round of Baba Booey bashing; then he left his room, stalking past the vaulted wall that retracted whenever Wrath or Beth wanted to come or go from their quarters. Hitting the carpeted stairs, he emerged at the head of the hall of statues.

Or hall of buck-ass naked dudes, as he thought of it.

Rounding to the right, he went by the king’s study, which was closed, and descended the grand staircase into that incredible foyer. On the way down, he bitched about the time, wishing he didn’t have to go. Business was business, however, and –

He was halfway to the mosaic floor below when the female he had wanted to see emerged from the billiards room and headed in the direction of the library.

"Selena," he called out, going across to the balcony and leaning on all that gold leaf.

As he looked over the drop, her head lifted, and her eyes rose to his own.

Pound. Pound. Pound.

His heart got loud as a war chant in his chest, and his hands automatically went to his coat, making sure that the front stayed closed. She was a female of worth, after all – and he didn’t want to frighten her with his weapons.

Oh, man, she was beautiful.

With her dark hair twisted high off her nape, and her diaphanous robe draping her body, she was far too precious and gentle to be around anything violent.

Or anything like him.

"Hello," she said with a slight smile.

That voice. Sweet Jesus, that voice…

Trez went on full high-tail, doing a down-and-around at a dead run. "How are you?" he said as he all but skidded to a halt in front of her.

She bowed a little. "Very well."

"That’s good. That’s real good. So…" Fuck. "Do you come here often?"

He wanted to smack himself in the head. What, like this was a bar? Shit –

"When I am called, yes." Her head tilted to one side, her eyes narrowing. "You’re different, aren’t you?"

As he glanced at the dark skin of his hands, he knew she wasn’t talking about chromatics. "Not that different."

He had fangs, for instance – that wanted to bite. And…other things. That happened to be getting aroused just being in her presence.

"What are you?" Her stare was steady and strong, as if she were assessing him on some level deeper than sight or hearing or scent. "I cannot…place it."

That is not for you.

As his brother’s voice checked in, Trez pushed it aside. "I’m a friend of the Brotherhood’s."

"And the king’s, or you would not be here."

"That’s right."

"Do you fight with them?"

"If they call on me."

Now her eyes shone with respect. "That is right and proper." She bowed again. "Your service is laudable."

Silence cropped up between them, and as he racked his brain for something, anything, he was reminded of all that f**king he’d been doing. Now, that shit he was able to tee up at a moment’s notice. Polite conversation, on the other hand? Talk about your foreign languages.

God, he hated thinking of any of that around her.

"Are you all right?" the Chosen asked.

And that was when she touched him. Reaching out, she put her hand on his forearm – and even though there was no skin-to-skin contact, his body felt the connection all over, his arms and legs stilling, his mind going into a kind of blankness, as if he were in a trance.

"You are…incredibly beautiful," he heard himself say.

The Chosen’s eyebrows shot up.

"Just being honest," he murmured. "And I’ve got to tell you…I’ve been waiting to see you all week."

Her hand, the one that touched him, retracted and rose to the collar of her robing, closing the lapels. "I…"

That is not for you.

As her awkwardness tore through him, Trez dropped his lids, a sense of what-the-hell-was-he-thinking hitting him hard: From what he understood about the Scribe Virgin’s Chosen, they were the purest and most virtuous variety of female on the planet. The polar opposite of his "partners" of late.

What did he think was going to happen if he started laying lines on her? She was going to hop up and throw her legs around his hips?

"I’m sorry," she said.

"No, listen, you don’t have to apologize." He took a step away, because although she was tall, she was a quarter of his size, and the last thing he wanted was for her to feel crowded. "I just wanted you to know."

"I…"

Great. Anytime a female had to search her mind for appropriate words? You knew you’d really put your foot in it.

"I’m sorry," she said again.

"No, it’s okay. It’s cool." He lifted his hand. "Don’t worry about it."