Godiva strolled inside, directly behind her was her boyfriend, Romeo, tall and muscled and very wolfish. Falon’s stomach rolled into a thousand different knots. Evie walked in, saying something over her shoulder. A moment later, Glory came into his sights. Finally!

Breath congealed in his throat. Dear God. She was . . . magnificent. Like the goddess she worshipped. Her long red curls tumbled down her back, and the sheer fabric of her dress swayed over her lush hips and thighs.

Hunter stepped in behind her and approached the hostess. The group was led to a table directly across from Falon’s. The closer she came, the hotter his blood flowed. See me. Want me.

It was as Glory was helped into her seat that she spied him.

Her hazel eyes widened with shock then narrowed with fury. Or arousal. She licked her lips. Spotted Kayla. Gripped the edge of the table so tightly he feared it would snap in half.

“Wow,” Kayla said. “I don’t have to ask which one is yours.”

His. He liked the sound of that.

“She’s the one shooting daggers at us. Or rather, me.”

“Right.”

He should take Kayla’s hand, perhaps kiss it. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. The only skin he wanted to kiss was Glory’s.

Her sisters took their places at her sides, and he heard her bark, “Did you know about this?”

Both women nodded guiltily.

“Traitors! Why not ask him and his date to join us, then. I couldn’t possibly feel any more uncomfortable.”

“Hey, Falon,” Hunter called. “Glory would really love it if you and your date joined us.”

Glory’s mouth fell open. “I was joking. I didn’t—”

“We’d love to.” He was on his feet a second later, jerking Kayla to hers.

Kayla chuckled softly.

Deep down, he didn’t think Glory would turn the heat of her anger on the other woman. After he’d foolishly turned her away that night, she hadn’t gone after the fairy he’d allowed inside. Only him. Clearly, she was a smart woman and knew where to properly lay the blame.

A waiter dragged two extra chairs to the table, positioning him and Kayla directly across from Glory. He wanted to be closer but would settle for simply looking at her.

You have it bad, man. You’ve gone from hating witches to being desperate for one in less than a week.

Strangely, he didn’t care anymore. Not while he was soaking her in.

“Since the big guy isn’t going to introduce me,” Kayla said, breaking the silence, “I’ll introduce myself. I’m Kayla Smith.”

Everyone introduced themselves. Except for Glory. When it was her turn, she motioned the waiter over and ordered a glass of flaming fairy. Falon nearly choked on his sip of water.

“You know I’m of the Fae. How?” he asked her. Not many people did. He was too big, too much a warrior compared to the usually party-loving race.

Her eyes widened. “You’re Fae?”

Okay, so she hadn’t guessed. He didn’t mind that she now knew; he wanted her to know everything about him. “Yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Hunter asked, incredulous.

“No one’s business.”

Awkward silence followed.

“Well, this is fun,” Evie said, probably to break the tension.

“A blast,” Kayla agreed. She tossed her hair over one shoulder, revealing sun-kissed skin.

Glory saw the action and popped her jaw.

“I’ve always had low self-esteem,” she’d once told him. Oh . . . shit. Bad move, bringing the ex, he realized. He didn’t want Glory to feel bad about herself or think he found Kayla more attractive. “You’re the prettiest woman here, Glory,” he said honestly.

Her drink arrived, saving her from replying. But her eyes had met his over the candlelight, soft and luminous. Her lashes cast dark shadows over her cheeks. Shadows he wanted to trace with his fingertips.

Menus were thrust at them. Falon didn’t bother opening his. He didn’t care about the food. He continued to watch Glory, couldn’t stop himself. He was entranced. She opened her menu, though she didn’t read it. She still watched him, too.

Her cheeks flushed to a rosy pink. She was clearly having trouble drawing in a breath, her chest rising too quickly and too shallowly.

“Hungry?” he asked her in a low, raspy voice.

Her gaze dipped to his lips. “A little.”

“I’m starved.”

“Why do I get the feeling they’re not talking about food?” Evie muttered.

“Because they’re not,” Hunter told her, “so hush.”

The table fell quiet, all eyes glued to Glory and Falon.

Get your pen, he mentally willed. Write us away from here. But she didn’t. She finally looked away.

His teeth ground together. He’d just have to push her harder, then. God, I’m pathetic.

“I decided to take your advice,” he said.

Fury curtained her features a split second before she blanked her expression. What thoughts tumbled through her mind? “Is that right?” The words were precisely uttered, as though shoved through the crack in a steel wall and ironed out.

“That’s right.”

The waiter came to take their order, but Kayla shooed him away. Hunter, Evie, Godiva, and Romeo propped their elbows on the table, unabashed by their staring.

“Funny that it wasn’t too long ago you protested taking my advice,” Glory said.

“Isn’t it?”

“It is. I’d like to say I’m surprised, but I can’t.” She tapped a nail against her glass, and the red liquid swished. “Not if I’m being honest.”

His lips pursed. Did she truly think so poorly of him? Of course she did, he thought in the next instant. He’d once told her that he hated witches. He’d once told her that he would pay her back for all she’d done to him.

Worry about that later. When she’s naked and under you. Or over you. Right now, you have to push her. “I’m thinking about showing Kayla my favorite . . . gladiator costume. Does that surprise you?”

Hunter choked on his water. Romeo nodded encouragingly. Evie, Godiva, and Kayla leaned forward, obviously intrigued.

Glory gasped at the reminder of the night she’d written him into a slave’s cell, splattered with blood and fresh from battle.

“I’m learning things about you I wish you’d kept hidden,” Hunter muttered.

“Shut it,” Falon told him.

“Why don’t you show her your jackass costume?” Glory asked through clenched teeth. “Oh, wait. You’re already wearing it.”

Okay, he’d walked into that one. Had she been talking about anyone else, he would have laughed. He loved her wit. And she must love warriors. Why else would she have written him into such a situation?

He racked his brain for things he knew about ancient Rome. Not much. Everything he knew, he knew because of Russell Crowe. “For the woman I desire, I would be willing to do anything.” The words were dare, a challenge.

“A few flicks of my wrist, and I can make you prove those words. Violently.”

Do it. “Please.” He snorted. “You’ve run out of ink, and we both know it.”

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