Page 38 of The Donor’s Dilemma

“We should have a signal. For in case you need saving,” she said, leaning into him a fraction more. Gazing up at his dark, hungry eyes.

“In case I need saving?” he asked, grinning.

“You can scratch your nose, and I’ll pretend to faint.”

“And what if I have an itchy nose?”

Verity hummed. “That might mess with the plan,” she mused, pouting.

Those black eyes flicked to her lips again, his grin widening until fangs pressed against his lip. It was only then she realised how rarely she saw them. His smiles were always a little tight. Composed.

He noticed her looking and drew his lips back over them. The mayor’s smile, perfectly tailored to make humans forget his true nature.

“Don’t do that,” she said, and his brow creased. “I mean it Theo, if you’re gonna smile, smile.”

Before she could think better of it, her hand found his jaw, stroking her thumb up across his skin.

“Smile or I’ll bite you,” she threatened, snapping her teeth and earning a low growl. That delicious rumble travelling through her back, straight to her core.

“Careful,” he told her, hand wrapping around her waist. “Don’t you go making promises you’re not gonna keep.”

“Oh, I’ll keep it,” she swore, and he smiled, fangs out and eyes crinkling.

There was only them. No crowded club. No soulful singer. Just Theo’s fingers as he tucked a stray hair behind her ear, getting close, his breath against her cheek, about to whisper Phoenar only knew what in her ear.

And then there was the bartender.

“Lord Chapel?” he asked.

Only Theo’s eyes moved as he stared at the man interrupting them.

“Mr Wysall is expecting you. He’s in the blue room, sir.”

Theo’s eyes found her again, so close they shared breath.

“Come on,” he sighed, pulling back and taking her hand.

The moment shattered, music and laughter washing over anew as Theo guided her through the crowd. She wanted to stop him, take him back to the bar and finish what he’d started, but they were here for a reason, and flirting was not it.

Well, she supposed it kind of was, but a line was blurring somewhere, and Verity couldn’t figure out where. Pretending to be a couple was one thing, but the way he held her so close, breath on her cheek and eyes hungry for more than just blood. Either Theo had a secret talent for acting, or he wasn’t pretending.

On her first visit to SubRosa, Verity had been so overwhelmed she hadn’t realised there was more outside the dance floor. The plush curtains and drapes circling the room hid a wide outer circle of booths and tables, dark spaces for nefarious activities, and dotted between the booths were doors.

The one Theo led her to opened into a corridor. Both the velvet ceiling and the carpet beneath their feet were dotted with lights, as if they were walking through stars that cast a soft glow over the gilded oil paintings along the walls. Though beautiful, the works of art were nothing like the ones in Theo’s office. Men and women, vampires and humans, creatures she had only read about. Some naked, some dressed, some… copulating.

Music and talking drifted from each closed door as they walked until Theo stopped at one and, to Verity’s dismay, they heard a woman shouting.

He stared at the “Blue Room” door before turning to Verity, brows drawn together.

“Think we can still run?” he asked.

Before Verity could answer a low male murmur came from inside and the door swung open.

“Theo!” exclaimed a man, pulling him into a hug and slapping his back. “I was starting to worry!”

“I told him, Theo!” came the shouting woman’s voice. “I told him he’s a shitty friend!”

“Oh, that’s not true,” Theo laughed, pulling back and taking Verity’s hand again to pull her into the room.