A pause.
Kirby had the feeling she’d surprised him, but he recovered quickly. “Oh, I do.” His voice had dropped, acquired a rougher edge. “However, and despite Vera’s refusal to believe me, I’m very particular about who I make naked now that I’m no longer a hormone-driven teenager. Of course, when I was a teenager, a naked woman would’ve ended things rather abruptly, biologically speaking.”
Skin burning again when it had just settled, Kirby nonetheless refused to back down. “I hope your ability to stand . . . firm”—Was she really saying this?—“against temptation has improved with time?” She’d never flirted this way, hadn’t known she could.
A hand on her lower back, his breath warm against her earlobe as he bent close to say, “You have no idea, little cat.”
Fighting the shiver that threatened, she walked into Vera’s house and to the kitchen, where she placed the cake on the counter, and said, “I’ll make the coffee.”
It gave her something to do, though if she’d thought it’d help her ignore Bastien, that proved a futile effort. Sprawled in a chair at the kitchen table opposite Vera, he was saying something that had the older woman laughing.
“Why are you dressed up so spiffy?” Vera asked once her laughter had faded, lifting her fashionable but unnecessary cane to tap Bastien’s forearm. “Was it for the girl selection?”
Bastien dropped his head in his hands, the stunning dark red of his hair catching the sunlight pouring through the kitchen windows, all of which overlooked woods filled with tall green firs. His white shirt was pulled taut over his shoulders in this position, his strength apparent. “I thought Mom needed my help with the furniture,” he growled when he raised his head. “If I’d known it was about matchmaking, I’d have worn my rattiest jeans and a stained T-shirt.”
Ears straining to hear every word, Kirby found the cups as the coffee began to percolate.
“Your mother loves you.” Vera glared at Bastien. “You’re in fine form, prime of your life, should find a girl before you get old and crinkly.”
“Gee, thanks, Vera.” A masculine mutter as he leaned back again, one arm braced lazily against the back of his chair, his big body loose limbed, very much a cat at rest. “I was hoping I had a few more years yet.”
Vera’s response was a grin bright and full of anticipation. “I’ll enjoy watching you fall, Bastien Smith. I bet she wraps you around her finger.”
A shrug, those broad shoulders catching Kirby’s attention again. “Of course she will.” Impossible as it was, it felt as if his voice was pitched to stroke over Kirby’s senses. “What would be the point otherwise?”
Vera’s smile turned affectionate. “I’m glad to see you understand that.” Glancing up as Kirby brought across the tray holding the coffee, Vera’s expression softened. “And you, Kirby?” She tugged Kirby into a seat. “Have you found someone yet?”
“I’ve only been in the city two weeks,” she said, conscious of Bastien going preternaturally still for a single, taut moment, the green of his eyes no longer human, before he rose to get the cake.
“From the accent,” he said, “I’m guessing . . . Georgia?”
Kirby nodded, happy he’d changed the subject, but Vera wasn’t done.
“Two weeks, schmoo weeks. It’s never too early to start looking.” The older woman’s eyes glinted, flicking from Kirby to Bastien. “You two would make pretty cubs together.”
Kirby wanted to die. Dig a hole, jump inside, bury herself for good measure.
Bastien, on the other hand, served up the cake without missing a beat, his body heat lapping against her like a tactile caress where he stood between her and Vera. “Undoubtedly,” he said, “but not if you terrify Kirby away with warnings about the likelihood of ending up naked while with me.”
Kirby responded in pure self-defense, driven by that strangeness in her that said she couldn’t permit him to overwhelm her. Not now, not ever. She might not be a dominant, but it was critical he didn’t see her as weak. “That likelihood is getting less and less with every word you speak,” she said, ignoring the strange thoughts in her head, the continuing stinging in her fingertips.
Laughing, Vera slapped her hand against the table as Bastien took his seat with a meek expression belied by the fact he’d shifted his chair so his thigh pressed against Kirby’s. It incited an escalation in her clawing awareness of him, her skin prickling in a way that felt as if it came from inside and out both. Almost as if she had a leopard under her skin, too, one that was rubbing up against it in an effort to get closer to this gorgeous cat who made her nerve endings go haywire.
Shaking off the odd sensation, she focused on his conversation with Vera. Intelligent, witty, a little bit wicked, Bastien was definitely the kind of man who’d never have trouble attracting a woman. Kirby was far from immune. If she was brutally honest, she’d never reacted to anyone as she’d done to Bastien.
That raw wave of need, of want, at the start, followed by an increasing desire to know more about him, know everything . . . It was unsettling. As was the tearing disappointment that had her nails digging into her palms when he glanced at his watch and said, “I’d better get into the office. With the instability caused by the Psy political situation, I have to keep an extra-sharp eye on things.”
“All work and no play.” Vera shook her head as Kirby stared deliberately into her half-empty coffee cup in an effort to hide her disturbing reaction, her skin flushing alternately hot then cold. “Be careful you don’t become a dull boy.”
“I thought I was making women naked on a regular basis?” Rising with that quip, Bastien went around to kiss Vera on the cheek. “Can I give you a ride anywhere, Kirby?” he asked, his hand on the back of her chair.
Scared by how much she wanted to lean back, rub her cheek against his arm, tug him down to her mouth, she shook her head.
“Don’t be silly,” Vera said. “You haven’t got a car.”
Her fingers flexed, the tingling in her fingertips increasing in strength. “It’s no trouble to catch the—”
Bastien’s breath whispered hot and silken over her ear, his face a caress away from her own. “I promise I don’t bite.” It was a dare.