Tariq sighed. “I thought you were going to give our relationship a chance? Relationships require compromise.”
She paused, holding the bundle of scraps in her hands. “So my choices are I move in with you or you come live with me? Where’s your compromise? I told you you’re moving too fast. Unlike you I haven’t spent the last century or so longing for a mate. The Felini don’t mate. We breed.”
“But you’re not just Felini, are you? As much as you might hate to admit it, you’re Vampalien too and we do mate,” he argued. He planted his hands on his hips in an outward manifestation of the irritation she could feel growing inside of him.
“I won’t live here, surrounded by your people,” she said, her voice rising.
“Then I’ll come to you. Makes no difference to me where we live. It would be more convenient to me for us to stay here but I can live anywhere,” he said calmly, as though the more agitated she became the more serene it made him.
“You can’t live in my den, you daft vampyr. My pride would eat you alive,” she shouted.
“They can try,” he said grimly.
The buzzer sounded, breaking off any retort she might have made. Tariq started for the door, paused, and then backtracked and grabbed her by the arm. “In case you get any ideas about teleporting out of here.”
He towed her with him. As they cleared the bedroom, the first thing she noticed was the lack of furnishings. “Why don’t you have any furniture?”
“I’m remodeling,” he said shortly. “You’re just in time to help.”
Reyna scoffed but was woman enough to admit the idea appealed, even if she had no intention of sharing this space with him. Not at the present time, anyway.
Tariq did something complicated with the security system and opened the door, motioning the server inside. The young vampyr rolled in a serving cart covered with a white tablecloth. On it sat several silver platter serving dishes with lids. A bottle of wine sat in a bucket of ice in the center of the cart. Behind him were two more vampyrs carrying a folding table and chairs.
Reyna imagined she wouldn’t have found better in a five-star restaurant. Not that she’d ever been to make any comparisons. In the beginning it had been Jorlan’s job to entice customers. Once their company took off, the demand had been greater than the supply. Now it was the potential clients doing the wooing.
She ignored the interested gazes the young males slid her way as they set up the eating area.
“Will there be anything else?” he asked formally.
“That will be all, Clifton. We’ll serve ourselves. Give Master Bernard my compliments and appreciation for a job well done and in such a timely manner,” Tariq told the vampyr as he ushered them out the door.
“Yes, Master,” Clifton said. With a bow to her and a nod to Tariq, they turned and left.
The smell of the bloody meat made Reyna’s mouth water. Her stomach emitted a sharp protest at its currently empty state. She stepped forward and lifted the cover of the closest dish. “This looks fantastic.”
“You could eat like this every day,” he reminded her.
Reyna was too busy slicing into her steak to respond. She consumed the first one while standing. Only then did she slow down enough to allow Tariq to transfer their plates to the bar.
Studying her, he said, “You must have been really hungry.”
“I haven’t eaten since lunch on Friday,” she said, digging into the second steak. Absently Reyna wondered if she’d need a third to satisfy the bottomless pit her stomach had become.
“No wonder you passed out,” he said sharply. “Teleporting requires a lot of energy. I imagine shifting does as well. You need to take better care of yourself.”
Reyna chewed, swallowed, and as she cut off another piece of steak, told him succinctly, “I’ve been a bit busy, what with experiencing my first change and dodging a certain vampyr…” She shot him a heavy look. “Food wasn’t on my list of priorities.”
He muttered under his breath about females not having the sense the Ancient One gave an Earth’s goose but didn’t pursue the topic. When she set down her silverware, he asked, “Aren’t you going to eat the salad?”
She examined it. Inside, her cat turned up its nose. Reyna frowned. “I don’t think so,” she said slowly. She hadn’t eaten since the appearance of her feline self. It appeared as though some dietary changes would have to be made. As Reyna considered, she realized Jorlan and the other members of her pride were strict carnivores.
Thinking of Jorlan, she needed to contact him and let him know she was all right. She’d left the den around six, with the intention of being gone no more than an hour or two at the most. What time was it?
“A little after five a. m. Today is Monday.” Tariq answered her unspoken question.
Reyna gaped, stunned she’d been here so long. Jorlan must be frantic.
“Doubtful, as he’s the one who sent you to me. If he knows anything about the vampyr, he must have suspected the outcome,” Tariq said.
“Quit reading my mind,” Reyna said, but there was no heat in her words. She was getting used to it. “I need to go. I have a conference call at six and still need to go home and dress.”
His hand whipped out lightning fast to capture her wrist. “About our living arrangements…?”
“What about them?” she asked, being deliberately obtuse.
Tariq studied her. She could feel him measuring her determination. “I’ll let you go if you promise to spend the week with me.”
“I have a company to run,” she reminded him.
He arched a brow. “As do I. Several, in fact. Come to me when your work day is finished.”
She hesitated, an instinctive no on her lips.
“Or I can shadow you wherever you go.” When she glared at him, he added, “It’s a compromise. We’ll spend our time together getting to know each other. I’ll introduce you to a few of my people and answer all your questions about your Vampalien heritage. In return, you can introduce me to Jorlan and show me your world.”
It was a reasonable request. Why was she still resistant? Fear, pure and simple. Time to squash it like a nasty bug. “Agreed. Would you like to see my lair?”
His eyes lit up and pure pleasure shown from them. “I’d like that very much.”