Page 24 of Damien’s Mate

Lila relaxed, muttering, “Idiot hooman.” Screwing with her at a time like this.

He moved to the door, but he didn’t holster his weapon—just held it where it wouldn’t be seen by anyone outside.

He was paranoid—she liked that in a guy. Plus, he’d ordered food. She liked that in a guy, too.

He opened the door a crack. A gruff male voice asked, “You da fuckin’ Nameless Man?” He didn’t sound like a typical delivery guy.

Damien shoved the gun in the back of his pants, but still stood so it would be impossible for anyone to kick the door open and bust in.

He scooped up a stack of bills from the table by the door and handed them over in exchange for two loaded brown paper bags. “Keep the change. And tell Luiz, the Nameless Man owes him one.”

“Whatever.”

Damien locked the door and threw the security bolt, then went to the window and watched until the man got back in his car and left.

Finally he dragged the table over by the bed and put the bags and his gun on it, pulling up a chair.

“What did you get us?” The smell of meat had already pervaded the room, and Lila was practically salivating. Healing took a lot out of a person, and she felt like she hadn’t eaten in days.

“Steaks,” he said. “I figured, broken bones need protein, and also, you know. Because of—” He made his hands into claws and made a rawr noise.

Seriously? Lila narrowed her eyes. “Did you just ‘rawr’ at me, hooman?”

He grinned, his eyes crinkling up at the corners. “Fuck yeah.”

“As soon as I’m done eating,” she said, “I’m going to beat the crap out of you.”

He continued opening the bags, pulling out container after container. “Does that count as a fight? I’m only asking because then it would qualify for makeup sex after.”

The thought of a repeat made her catch her breath. Which hurt like hell, thus ruling out any kind of sex.

“First,” she said, “it’s going to be more of a beatdown than a fight. Because ‘rawr.’” She did the claws like he had, except they were her real ones. He looked startled, then fascinated.

She retracted the claws. “And second, I have broken ribs, and I’m pretty sure my pelvis is cracked. Ain’t no orgasm good enough drown out that pain, hooman, no matter how much heat you’re packing.” She gazed pointedly at his crotch.

Apparently, trying to embarrass Damien by turning his sex talk back at him was wasted effort. The man just gave her that cocky grin and said, “You’re just pissed off because I promised you a fancy hotel.”

“Damn right. Also, and I quote, ‘the most expensive dinner I ever had’ unquote.” She gestured around the room, then raised her eyebrows. “This movie is not living up to the pre-release hype.”

“Yeah, well, you try checking into a fancy hotel with no luggage and an unconscious bleeding woman. Cops at the door in under ninety seconds.”

He opened one of the containers, tore off the top half and nested it underneath, then set it in front of her. “But if it makes you feel any better, I had to pay more money than you would believe to get steaks like this at three in the morning. And call in a favor.”

She was barely listening. The steak in front of her was two inches thick, medium rare, and almost too big for the carry-out container. It was all she could do to remember to use the utensils instead of just picking it up in both hands and tearing into it with her teeth.

“I got four steaks,” he said. “But I get one. Also there’s baked potatoes and salads, but…” He broke off as he watched her practically dive headfirst into the steak. “I guess you’re not interested in those.”

She didn’t even dignify that with an answer.

The room went silent as they ate. Damien was glad not to have to talk—he really didn’t know how to make casual conversation with a woman he’d had sex with in a bathroom, robbed a vault with, and then kidnapped.

Plus, she was a shifter—and she didn’t like him knowing about it, so he couldn’t ask her all the questions he was dying to ask.

When she’d plowed through the better part of two steaks, and he’d eaten most of another, he put the leftovers in the room’s mini-fridge and then stuffed the garbage into the two delivery bags.

“I’m just going to take this around to the dumpster,” he said. “You going to be okay while I’m gone?”

“I’m not five years old,” she said. “But if you’re nervous, leave me your gun.”