Within a few minutes, the warm scent of sandalwood mingled with the fresh aromas of the night. He handed me my dress without comment. Once I'd put it on, he placed a leather jacket across my shoulders and sat on the step beside me, a shadow whose heat I could feel even though we weren't touching.
"I've booked a table in the restaurant, if you wish something to eat," he said, after a moment.
"I might." I slipped my arms inside the jacket and zipped it up. It smelled of leather and man, and stirred me in a hundred different ways. Which was scary, because I really couldn't afford to fall for this vampire any more than I already had.
"And have you fallen for me, Riley Jensen?"
I glanced at him sharply. "Two days ago you said you could only catch my thoughts when I was in pain or during passion. So how come you're reading them now?"
His gaze, when it met mine, was flat and uncompromising. "We've shared blood, remember. I did warn you that makes me more attuned to unguarded thoughts."
I looked away. "Then I must remember to guard my thoughts at all times."
"Perhaps you should, if you don't want me reading them."
"You could be a gentleman, and not intrude."
"I could. But given the fact our talks so far have gotten interrupted for various reasons, intruding on your thoughts is my only way of getting information."
He obviously hadn't read too much, then, or he probably wouldn't be sitting there so calmly. I chewed my lip, watching the twinkling carpet of lights, trying not to think of anything in particular.
Yet a decision had to be made. Here. Tonight. Because if I went back to Jack, he'd make it for me. Though, considering he wanted me as a guardian, I doubt he'd want me pregnant.
"Tell me what causes you such anguish," Quinn demanded softly.
I briefly contemplated the wisdom of not telling him, but in the end, he had the right to know. It did involve him - us - in some respects.
"You're not going to like it," I hedged.
He reached out, his hand twining in mine, wrapping my fingers in heat and courage. "Tell me."
So I did. About what the doctor had said. About Misha. About the decision I'd come up here to make.
He was silent for a long time. When he finally spoke, his voice was as emotionless as ever. Yet his dark eyes held echoes of pain as his gaze met mine.
"Rhoan told you about Eryn, didn't he?"
Eryn was the wolf Quinn had been engaged to six months before I'd met him. A wolf who had used a drug to snare and keep him. A wolf who had confirmed his opinion that all wolves were whores.
"Rhoan hasn't said anything about Eryn." I studied him for a moment. "How does she fit in with the decision I have to make?"
"She doesn't. But I thought she might have been the reason you were unwilling to really talk about us continuing our relationship."
"And why would you think that?"
He looked away. I touched his arm lightly, feeling the tension in his muscles, tasting the anger that still lingered in his mind.
"We weren't just engaged," he said eventually. "We swore our love to the moon."
My heart just about plummeted to my ankles. Of all the things I'd been expecting to hear, that certainly hadn't been one of them. "What? But that means... "
"I would not be free to fuck anyone." His gaze met mine, dark depths smoldering. "But I am free to be with whom I wish, because the ceremony that should have bound us as one didn't work."
"Because both parties have to be in love to perform that ceremony. Eryn obviously never was."
"In truth, neither was I. It was the drug, not real emotion."
"Yes." I paused. There was more. There had to be more. "But I'm gathering that is the least of her crimes?"