“Thank you.” Lucas handed the glass to her, but not before giving it a sniff. “Bourbon, huh?”
She took it from him. “Of course. I hope you don’t think I’m one of those froo-froo drinkers.”
“Froo-froo?”
“You know, mixed drinks with lots of sugar and cream and umbrellas?” Her eyes closed as she put the glass to her lips, took a sniff, then sipped.
His eyes followed the way her lips wrapped around the rim of the glass. “No, you definitely don’t seem like a froo-froo drinker.”
Slowly, she opened her eyes then gazed up at him. Their color seemed to shift, now more lighter blue than gray. “It’s getting really hot and crowded around here.”
“I know a place where we can get some air.”
She cocked her head slightly. “Let’s go then.”
Anticipation crawled up his veins. His wolf was eager to get her alone too, away from all these people, especially the males around them. Sliding a hand to the small of her back, he guided her away from the bar, using just the lightest touch. She allowed him to lead her to the back of the club, toward the private elevator that would lead them to the outdoor deck. It wasn’t very high up, but it had a great view of the lights in Times Square.
The snow had stopped, but it was still chilly. She walked ahead, stopping by the ledge and placing her glass on it. “Wow, this is amazing. You’d never know this place existed from the street.”
He followed her, leaning his forearms on the ledge, his own glass gripped in his fingers. “Yeah, it’s positioned perfectly so you can’t see it from the street, but it still has a view.” But he wasn’t really looking at the view. Instead, he found himself staring at her face. Out here, he could really see her. Her skin was like alabaster, and some might say her features were too strong, but he liked them. The high cheekbones, strong jaw and chin, those plush lips. And those huge eyes, framed by dark, sooty lashes. He could get lost just looking at her.
She shivered, and he found himself removing his jacket and wrapping it around her. “Better?”
“Yes.” She lowered her lashes. “Thank you.”
Unable to take another moment of torture, he reached out to brush a stray lock of hair from her cheek. It was an excuse to touch her, and a shock of electricity jolted up his fingertips when it made contact with her skin, but he didn’t jerk back. He traced his finger down to her chin and their gazes clashed. Her eyes seemed to flash to a light blue for a moment, and he wondered if she had felt it too.
“Are you visiting New York? Which clan are you from?” he asked.
His words must have broken the spell between them because she frowned at his question. “Visiting? I’m from New York. And what do you mean, clan?”
He double-blinked, letting her words sink into him. Glancing down at his coat around her, he realized that her body didn’t adjust to the cold like his did. And when he tried to reach out to her and search for her wolf … he found none.
Human.
He was so sure she was a Lycan. She smelled like one, for God’s sake. Maybe she had a parent who was a Lycan. But no, she didn’t even recognize him or known what a clan was. If she was from the New York clan, she would know who the Alpha was, and who Lucas was.
“Lucas? Is something the matter?”
Her voice jolted him back. “No.” Yes. You’re human. Still, that didn’t mean anything. He wasn’t going to get down on one knee and propose to her. He could always take a page from Bastian’s book. She was obviously interested in him, or else she wouldn’t have come up here. “So, you’re from New York?”
“Queens, born and bred.” She took a sip of her bourbon, her eyes never leaving his. “And you? Where did you grow up?”
“Manhattan.”
“Ah, true city boy.” Her laugh was like tinkling bells, and her smile—it made her entire face light up.
“Guilty,” he replied. He wanted to shuffle away from her, but he found himself doing the opposite, moving closer so their forearms touched. His wolf whined happiness as her scent tickled his nose, now mingled with his own because she was wearing his coat. What the heck was wrong with his animal?
She wrinkled her nose. “You’re not one of those snooty Manhattanites who think the boroughs aren’t New York, are you?” Despite her serious tone, there was a slight tugging at the corner of her lips.
“Hey, I’ve gone as far as Brooklyn.”
“Ah, hipster, then are you?”
“Please,” he said. “Do I look like a hipster?”
“This suit jacket that probably cost more than I make in a month says no.” She rubbed her cheek against the lapel. “And your shirt.”
“What about it?”
“Tailor-made?”
“Guilty,” he chuckled. “Specially made just for me. I like shirts that fit well.”
Her gaze lingered on his shoulders and his chest. “You’re probably one of those hedge fund guys, aren’t you? Or lawyer?”
He shook his head. “Far from it. I’m not that ruthless.”
“Then what do you do?”
“I’m in business,” he said. “Family corporation.”
“Interesting. Which one?”
He opened his mouth, then shut it again. Somehow, this human woman got him to drop his defenses. Why did this feel like an interrogation?
“Why don’t you answer some of my questions first?” He leaned down closer to her. “Like what’s your full name?”
She turned her head to him, tilting her chin up slightly. “Does it matter? You didn’t invite me up here for my name.”
His hand snaked up to reach behind her neck, moving so fast she gasped. He played with the soft, delicate skin there, and he heard her heartbeat spike up. Moving his thumb under her ear, he could feel the thrum of her pulse and the tinge of her arousal mixing in with their combined scents.
Her lips parted invitingly, and he leaned down
