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If she stayed with Vanderale Industries. Sanctuary needed her more than Dane or Leo Vanderale. And Mercury needed her with him. He would do what she needed to do, what she wanted to do, but he didn’t think she was as happy working for Dane as she would be here.
“Damn parties,” she muttered, turning away from him and walking toward the bedroom before casting him a heated little look over her shoulder. “Want to shower with me?”
“Wrong question,” he growled. “Because you keep me from it.”
He followed after as she laughed, the thought of playing with Ria in the shower again causing his cock to jerk in anticipation.
Hell, it might not be mating heat, but it was damned close. For now, for tonight, he would content himself with that. But he was going to have to stop rubbing his tongue against his teeth, hoping. Because he swore he was making it raw.
Later that evening, as Ria stepped from the bathroom, clipping the pearl earrings to her ears that she had chosen to wear, her hair pinned behind her head, it was all Mercury could do to hold back his growl.
He was in his dress uniform. The severe black pants and jacket were confining enough. The dress boots were a pain in the ass, but he tolerated them when he had to. He wore the insignia of his rank, that of second commander, a narrow golden bar attached to the left shoulder of his jacket. On the right was the gold lion’s head denoting his genetic ranking, and below it the brass Bureau of Breed Affairs pin, a simple brass pin with the initials BBA.
The dress uniform was a necessary evil. Ria’s hair pinned up wasn’t.
“Take your hair down.” He’d meant to make it a request as his gaze swept over the simple black gown she wore. The long sleeves covered her arms, while the material reached to the base of her neck in back.
The front was cut lower, scooped and rounded over her breasts, leaving the barest hint of cleavage.
She wore pearls around her neck to match the earrings, and nothing more.
“I’m not taking down my hair.” She moved to sit on the bureau and checked her earrings. “It would be . . . Mercury.”
As she talked, he had moved behind her, pulled the anchoring pins and watched that thick, silken mass of hair as it unraveled down her back.
“You did not do that.” She turned on him, incredulous. “Damn you!”
His eyes narrowed back at her. “Get as mad as you like. I want it down.”
Her eyes narrowed back at him. “I want that damned cheesecake I mentioned before. Doesn’t mean I’m going to get it.”
He growled. “There will be four different kinds of cheesecake on the buffet. I requested it. Just for you. All chocolate.”
For a second he could have sworn her eyes glazed with something akin to approaching ecstasy.
“I’m going to revise my opinion of you.” She pouted with charming irritation. “You’re a cruel, evil man. Teasing me with cheesecake. I’ll get you back. You watch.”
He smiled back at her, his brows arching as he pushed his fingers through her hair and restrained the need to kiss her. If he kissed her, he would never get out of that cabin with her.
He let his gaze go over her again, noticing as he did so that the cut of her dress hid the bite he had placed on her shoulder. For some reason, that bothered him.
“Leave the hair down,” he told her. “We’ll discuss the dress later.”
“Yeah, with a whip and a chair in my hand,” she informed him archly. “Don’t start giving orders, Mercury. I don’t obey so well.”
Ria allowed him to get away with the hair, simply because she was learning how much he enjoyed it down. But her clothes, as much as she sometimes disliked them herself, were imperative.
Clothing style, makeup and presence were a hazard in her job, and at parties such as the one Sanctuary was hosting tonight she met many of the people she was sent to investigate.
“You should be able to dress as you like,” he growled. “I swear, Ria, I can feel your dissatisfaction with that dress.”
She looked at him sharply. She hated this dress. It was simple, the cut and design elegant enough. And it was unassuming. She had never hated unassuming as much as she did tonight.
“The dress is like your dress uniform, less threatening and more civilized in ways than the uniform you work in. My line of work requires that I appear unthreatening at all times. No matter the job or the event.”
She moved to the closet and pulled a pair of low heels from the shelf inside. She had to keep herself from staring at them in regret. As with the dress. Simple. Unassuming.
She put them on anyway and turned back to Mercury.
