“Never mind,” she said. “You don’t have to answer.”

He did anyway, desperate to prolong the connection. “Demons are evil, with nothing good in them. With them, and the centuries of our battles, I regret nothing.”

Her head tilted to the side as she studied him. “How old are you?”

“Old.”

“Over two hundred?”

“Yes.”

A gasp. “Over three hundred?”

“Yes. Let me save you some time. I am a little over a thousand.”

“Wow. That’s, like, really old.”

“Just as I said.”

“No, Grandpa. You left out the really.”

His lips twitched at the corners. She’d teased him; she wasn’t afraid of him. “Come. We have much more to discuss.”

He ushered her into the elevator. When the doors closed, sealing them inside, the scent of her filled the confined space and enveloped him; he could almost taste the cherry flavor he knew was embedded in her skin. His body ached.

He didn’t want to wait to pounce.

He pushed a button and stopped the elevator before it reached the upper floor.

He turned to her and leaned against the railing. Whatever she saw in his expression made her gulp. She backed away from him, trying to move out of reach, but he caught her by the wrist and tugged her close, between his spread legs.

“Whatever you’re thinking,” she said, breathless, “take another route.”

“But I like these thoughts.” He leaned down to run his hands up the backs of her thighs, cup her bottom and squeeze, making her gasp. Then he pinned her against the railing and braced his palms beside her temples. He wanted so badly to rub the hardest part of him against the softest part of her and barely managed to hold himself still. “Tell me. Are you ashamed of what we did in the tub?”

“Ashamed? No.” Her gaze held his, unflinching, letting him see the fire banked in those smoked-glass eyes. “But...”

“But?” he insisted, suddenly hating the word. “Why did you run?”

“A lot of reasons,” she hedged.

“Start with one. We’ll work from there.”

“Okay, fine. Number one, guilt. I’d just betrayed my husband.”

As he’d suspected. Confirmation was sweet. “Was the male—”

“Bay.”

“Was he cruel? Would he want you to remain alone?”

“Noooo,” she admitted, drawing out the word. “But that doesn’t change anything.”

The tenderness in her expression roused his jealous side. A side he hadn’t known he possessed until he’d met her. “So...you would honor his memory...but not his wishes?”

Her lashes practically fused as she glared up at him.

He didn’t want her angry; he wanted her pliant. So let’s try this another way. “You attended parties as a couple?”

“Yes.”

“You had fun. Laughed.”

“Yes,” she repeated, her head tilting with confusion.

“I bet he adored your laughter.” I do.

“Ah, okay. I see where you’re going with this. I should live my life the way he’d like. Carefree.”

“Weedless.”

She pursed her lips. “What about you?” She waved her hand to indicate the club behind the elevator doors. “I know you’re some bigwig billionaire sky mogul, but what do you do for fun?”

He thought for a moment. “I don’t. As one of the strongest fighters of my race, I fight. I’ve always fought.”

Her fingers abandoned his robe to twirl the curls at his nape. Even better. “Poor Thane. You’ve never had time to play?”

Every muscle in his body clenched. “I seem to remember playing earlier today.”

She sucked in a breath. Apprehension—and desire—danced through her eyes.

“That was a lot of fun,” he whispered. “I’d like to do it again.”

She gulped. “All right,” she finally said, her voice going low and husky. “Let’s play.”

A sense of triumph flared. “Yes. Let’s.” He arched his hips, grinding his erection between her legs, and she moaned. “We’ll play Elin, May I.”

Her breaths came more heavily as she nodded.

“Elin, may I kiss you?”

She nodded again, her eyes wide, and he lowered his head. But he didn’t press his mouth against hers. Not yet. He hovered above her, breathing her in, drinking in her mounting arousal—and letting her drink in his.

She braced her hands on his shoulders, waiting. “Thane. I’m ready. I’m not even going to make you beg for it.”

“You want me to beg for it?” He knew how temptation worked. Knew it was better to chip away at resistance a bit at a time. A taste here. A nibble there. Until the first true craving hit...and it was too late to stop. “Because I will.”

A tremor rocked her.

“May I cup your breasts? Please.”

“Y-yes,” she agreed softly.

“May I spread your legs and stroke myself against you?” Her mind might want to stay true to her dead husband, but her body did not. “May I bring you to climax?”

Her next exhalation came fast and shallow. “Please.”

Such a sweet capitulation. But still he didn’t rush into action. He grazed the tip of his nose against hers, and gave her the barest of kisses.

She tensed, eager for more, only to deflate a moment thereafter. “Are you having fun?” she gritted.

“Yes.” At last he traced his tongue around the seam of her lips. “Do you like my game?”

She fisted his hair so tightly, several strands pulled free. “No. You’ve asked, you’ve received permission, but you haven’t taken.”

He nuzzled her cheek. “And you want me to take?”

“Yes!”

“Me. Only me?”

“Yes!”

“When?”

“Now!”

Such vehemence. He couldn’t resist.

Thane kicked her legs apart. As he pressed his lips against hers, thrusting his tongue deep, he cupped her breasts, her nipples already hard little buds. He ground his erection between her legs, giving her everything he’d promised in one fell swoop.

Everything but the climax.