sprout wings and fly on several occasions.
“I’ve got fresh coffee,” Jake offered, drawing her attention away from the mysterious blond. “And I’m making omelets. Place your order if you want one.”
“He can’t help it.” Devon grinned. “He grew up in a restaurant.” Rather than joining Ian at the bar, Devon led Heather to the kitchen table. “Have a seat. I’ll grab us some coffee while you tell Jake what you want.”
Heather had told Jake what she wanted last night and he’d still walked away. Heat spread up her neck at the thought of how close they’d come to having sex. His kiss had left her dizzy and aching. She could only imagine how much more intense making love with him would have been.
Making love? She hardly knew the man. Love had nothing to do with this.
“So, what’s your pleasure?” Jake turned from the stove, spatula still in hand.
The blush already coloring her cheeks burned even brighter. “What do you have?”
His gaze narrowed and one corner of his mouth quirked. The sunlight made his eyes especially green. He was obviously aware of the sexual undertone. “Name it and I probably have it. If I don’t, we’ll improvise.”
Her nipples tingled and heat pulsed between her thighs. Oh this wasn’t good. She thought they’d settled this last night. Sex was not a good idea. They’d both agreed. Which meant she had to stop looking at him as if she wanted to devour him.
“Should we give you two some room?” Devon chuckled as she set a steaming mug of coffee in front of Heather.
“Anything but onions,” Heather finally answered Jake’s question and forced all thoughts of sex to the back of her mind. “I’m not hard to feed.”
With a knowing smile his only response, Jake turned back to the stove.
“Mom said the hunters are still searching for you.” Devon drew Heather’s attention back to the crisis at hand. “Lexxie wasn’t sure how many are still out there but she was pretty sure they had no idea where you’d gone.”
“Which buys us some time, but not much else.” Ian rounded the bar and sat down across the table from Heather. Again she was struck by the regal strength evident in his every move. “If you like, I can take this before the Prime Council.”
“I hate to point this out, sweetheart, but Nate didn’t break any rules.” Compassion shone in Devon’s gaze as she explained, “The competition her father arranged is outlined in the Charter. I looked it up this morning to make sure. It’s old and antiquated—like too many of the Charter’s rules—but it’s still a sanctioned ceremony.”
“That doesn’t surprise me.” Heather sighed. Her father was a master manipulator. He skated along on the razor’s edge, bending but seldom breaking the rules.
“I don’t care if it’s sanctioned or not. It’s unacceptable.” Jake walked to the table and set down a fluffy omelet in front of each of his guests.
“I’ll petition the council to purge the entry,” Ian assured him. “Unfortunately Nate is still protected by it. Even if every member of the Prime Council agrees that the contest was reprehensible, they can’t help us.”
“And the fact that Dad is on the Prime Council certainly doesn’t help.” Heather picked up her fork and pocked at her omelet but her appetite had all but fled. This wasn’t the first time her dignity had been compromised by outdated rules. Her definition had fallen into the same category. When she’d tried to object to being bartered as part of a proposed alliance, her father showed her the entries in the Charter that made it all completely legal. “I’ll change my name and start over somewhere else. If I do nothing to draw attention to myself, maybe—”
“You want to live the rest of your life looking over your shoulder?” Jake objected as he moved back into the kitchen.
“Of course not, but what choice is there? I won’t be the cause of a blood feud or worse. No one is going to lose their life
“I’ve got fresh coffee,” Jake offered, drawing her attention away from the mysterious blond. “And I’m making omelets. Place your order if you want one.”
“He can’t help it.” Devon grinned. “He grew up in a restaurant.” Rather than joining Ian at the bar, Devon led Heather to the kitchen table. “Have a seat. I’ll grab us some coffee while you tell Jake what you want.”
Heather had told Jake what she wanted last night and he’d still walked away. Heat spread up her neck at the thought of how close they’d come to having sex. His kiss had left her dizzy and aching. She could only imagine how much more intense making love with him would have been.
Making love? She hardly knew the man. Love had nothing to do with this.
“So, what’s your pleasure?” Jake turned from the stove, spatula still in hand.
The blush already coloring her cheeks burned even brighter. “What do you have?”
His gaze narrowed and one corner of his mouth quirked. The sunlight made his eyes especially green. He was obviously aware of the sexual undertone. “Name it and I probably have it. If I don’t, we’ll improvise.”
Her nipples tingled and heat pulsed between her thighs. Oh this wasn’t good. She thought they’d settled this last night. Sex was not a good idea. They’d both agreed. Which meant she had to stop looking at him as if she wanted to devour him.
“Should we give you two some room?” Devon chuckled as she set a steaming mug of coffee in front of Heather.
“Anything but onions,” Heather finally answered Jake’s question and forced all thoughts of sex to the back of her mind. “I’m not hard to feed.”
With a knowing smile his only response, Jake turned back to the stove.
“Mom said the hunters are still searching for you.” Devon drew Heather’s attention back to the crisis at hand. “Lexxie wasn’t sure how many are still out there but she was pretty sure they had no idea where you’d gone.”
“Which buys us some time, but not much else.” Ian rounded the bar and sat down across the table from Heather. Again she was struck by the regal strength evident in his every move. “If you like, I can take this before the Prime Council.”
“I hate to point this out, sweetheart, but Nate didn’t break any rules.” Compassion shone in Devon’s gaze as she explained, “The competition her father arranged is outlined in the Charter. I looked it up this morning to make sure. It’s old and antiquated—like too many of the Charter’s rules—but it’s still a sanctioned ceremony.”
“That doesn’t surprise me.” Heather sighed. Her father was a master manipulator. He skated along on the razor’s edge, bending but seldom breaking the rules.
“I don’t care if it’s sanctioned or not. It’s unacceptable.” Jake walked to the table and set down a fluffy omelet in front of each of his guests.
“I’ll petition the council to purge the entry,” Ian assured him. “Unfortunately Nate is still protected by it. Even if every member of the Prime Council agrees that the contest was reprehensible, they can’t help us.”
“And the fact that Dad is on the Prime Council certainly doesn’t help.” Heather picked up her fork and pocked at her omelet but her appetite had all but fled. This wasn’t the first time her dignity had been compromised by outdated rules. Her definition had fallen into the same category. When she’d tried to object to being bartered as part of a proposed alliance, her father showed her the entries in the Charter that made it all completely legal. “I’ll change my name and start over somewhere else. If I do nothing to draw attention to myself, maybe—”
“You want to live the rest of your life looking over your shoulder?” Jake objected as he moved back into the kitchen.
“Of course not, but what choice is there? I won’t be the cause of a blood feud or worse. No one is going to lose their life
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