He wasted no time in getting right down to things once they were seated and had ordered their drinks, his chatter all leaning toward her intentions for starting a family. She lied, played along.
“Yes, I’m very interested in starting a family. I think that being a wife and mother is exactly why Omegas were created in our world.”
“I’m surprised you are still single at your age,” he replied.
“What do you mean? I’m only twenty-five. Just a few years younger than you,” she said, making every effort to keep the sarcasm from dripping off her words.
“You know, most Omegas get married the moment they come of age. You’re practically an old maid,” he joked.
Adriana bit the inside of her jaw to remind herself she was here for a story. She’d not gain much insight if she ran him off right off the bat, though she was already wondering why any woman would endure this shit for the sake of mating.
“I suppose so,” she laughed. “And how about you? You’ve never been married?”
“No. I’ve just not met the right woman. I’m a bit too much for most women,” he said, running his finger around the rim of his water glass suggestively as he looked her up and down.
“How’s that?” she asked, certain she didn’t want to hear the answer but knowing she should for the sake of her article.
“I’m a bit randier than most. I like to spend a lot of time in the sheets doing what God intended rather than sitting around discussing feelings. I’m just a physical kind of guy,” he sneered, somehow seeming to think this would be a turn on for her.
“I see.”
“And how about you? I mean, yeah, you’re a little old to just be mating properly. Are you a virgin?” he asked, looking at her chest instead of her face.
Wow, this had escalated quickly. She’d not expected him to be such a perv. Nor had she expected him to be so open about it. At least any woman dating him could see what she was getting into right away.
“I am not a virgin, and I like sex just fine, but not with someone who looks like my dad,” she blurted out.
“Excuse me?” he said, his gaze upon her chest shifting now to her face, a mask of surprise looking at her now.
“You’re not twenty-eight. You’re more like thirty-eight, perhaps even forty. You smell of desperation and hormones. Basically, you’re a pig.”
“What the fuck kind of way is that to talk to a man buying you dinner?”
“I’ll pay for my own dinner. Feel free to leave me here to eat in peace,” she shot back.
He sat looking at her, his face red with anger, for an uncomfortable amount of time. Finally, he pushed back his chair and stood up.
“Enjoy paying for the steak and lobster I ordered on a clerk’s salary,” he snarled, stomping off.
Adriana chuckled to herself. She had almost forgotten that she’d listed herself as an administrative assistant in her bio. The waiter trotted over immediately to check on her.
“Are you alright, miss?”
“Yes. I’m fine. Can you cancel the gentleman’s meal? If not, just bag it to go.”
“Yes, of course. Is he ill? Do I need to bag both meals for you to take with you?”
“No. I’ll be enjoying mine alone,” she said, receiving a look of confusion in return. “Bad date,” she added.
The waiter immediately relaxed, apparently having thought he might have done something wrong. “I’ll see what I can do about his food. Would you like to see our drink menu?”
“You’re a man after my own heart,” she replied. “Yes, please.”
Adriana pulled her notebook from her purse and made notes about the date, pausing briefly to order a bottle of Royo Malbec when he returned and then finishing while she waited for it to arrive. A few minutes later, she was enjoying a crisp glass of the red wine with the tapas they had ordered as a starter. She opened her phone to find he had already blocked her from his contacts on the app. It only made her laugh again.CHAPTER FOURDane
The house was musty. Because it sat empty for so much of the year, it wasn’t unusual for it to grow stale between visits. He should have called Beatrice, a local cleaning lady he sometimes used, ahead of time and asked her to freshen it up for him before he arrived, but he just hadn’t thought about it. Instead, he fished out some cleaning stuff from beneath the sink and did it himself. It was something he’d done a thousand times, but rarely as an adult.
This was home. He grew up here with his parents, and they had left it to him when they had passed away a little over ten years ago. His dad had suffered through a disease their dragon clan called gray scales, a sort of deterioration of the skin, and thus, the scales of their dragon that was just as unpleasant as it sounds. His mother had followed shortly after, seemingly unwilling to continue her life without her mate. She had lived for him and chose not to live without him.