Philippe’s breath caught in his throat and his fucking dick gave another begging throb, urging him to cross the damn club and grab Rafe, but he kept his feet planted as if they’d been bolted to the floor.
The look passed in just a second; then Rafe was turning to both people cuddled against him. He said something to each in their ears before extricating himself and making his way across the club toward Philippe.
“Oh, he’s here already,” Jullien murmured behind him as if he’d just spotted Rafe.
Philippe gave a curt nod, not trusting himself to speak yet. He wanted to reach down and adjust himself in his slacks, but he was afraid of Rafe catching the movement as he got closer. Philippe kept his eyes on Rafe as he smiled and laughed, kissing cheeks of familiar patrons while he slowly made his way through the crowd. Halfway to Philippe, a vampire he didn’t recognize whispered in Rafe’s ear while handing him a drink. Rafe’s smile shrank a millimeter as he accepted the glass.
And those electric-blue eyes were on Philippe as he sipped his dark drink, a wicked smile playing on his lips. God, Philippe was dying to kiss that smile off his lips.
When Rafe was standing in front of him, the club owner took a deep breath as if he was scenting the air. Philippe couldn’t guess what he smelled, but he carefully schooled his face, giving away nothing but mild amusement.
“You’ve finally made your way into my little den of sin,” Rafe said with a laugh.
“I’ve heard so much about it, Mr. Varik. I thought I should see it for myself.”
Rafe’s eyes sparkled with laughter, and he leaned close so he could speak directly into Philippe’s ear. Behind him, Jullien stepped forward, bumping Philippe’s shoulder. Philippe immediately reached back, pressing a restraining hand to Jullien’s stomach. Rafe wasn’t threatening him. No, the vampire was playing with him, and there was a part of Philippe dying to play with Rafe.
“Come now, Philippe. We’re going to be forming an alliance. We’re practically family. I think you can call me Rafe.”
For a second, Philippe closed his eyes at Rafe’s rough whisper. It was like the vampire was lightly raking his nails across all Philippe’s nerve endings, sending the most decadent shiver across his flesh. There was a whiff of blood and alcohol on Rafe’s breath, enflaming Philippe’s hunger. He had only to turn his head and he’d be able to capture Rafe’s sinful mouth in a scorching kiss.
But Philippe didn’t let himself move. Didn’t flinch a single muscle as he fought his own desires to get to the heart of what Rafe was telling him.
Philippe’s eyes snapped open, and he found himself drowning in Rafe’s all-too-perceptive blue eyes. “You’re going to help me find Piper?”
Something passed over Rafe’s face for a second, but Philippe couldn’t describe it. It was gone almost as quickly as it appeared, and Rafe was smiling his wicked grin again.
“The Variks are happy to help the Arsenaults,” Rafe said, and they were back to the diplomatic comments.
Philippe couldn’t quite stop his disappointment from showing. He liked the flirty, playful Rafe more. The one who liked to fan the flames. He didn’t seem the “watch the world burn” type, but he didn’t mind lighting a few small controlled fires to shake things up.
“Would you like to dance and enjoy the club first? Or shall we get down to business?”
Philippe would have loved nothing more than to go out onto the dance floor with Rafe and feel their bodies move together to the music. To forget about the rest of the world for just a few minutes, but Piper was depending on him.
“It would be best if we talked about Piper,” Philippe said.
Rafe nodded before tossing back the last of his drink. He stepped forward and wrapped one arm around Philippe’s waist, plastering their bodies together from knee to chest. The heat radiating from Rafe was incredible. Hints of bergamot, lavender, and sweat drifted around Philippe, and he longed to press his nose into Rafe’s neck, add in the swirling scent of his blood pumping just below the surface. There was no way to hide his hard-on as it pressed to Rafe’s thick thigh, and maybe that had been the point of Rafe pulling him in close, trying to uncover any secrets Philippe might be hiding beneath his cool façade.
Thrusting his empty glass at Jullien, Rafe grinned at the other vampire. “Have a drink and relax. We’re going to have a private chat in my office.”
Philippe glanced at his old friend to see him looking less than pleased, but he didn’t move beyond accepting Rafe’s glass.
He allowed Rafe to keep him pressed tightly against him for a few steps as they plunged into the crowd, but as they encountered more people, Rafe was forced to release his hold on Philippe rather than mow down his inebriated customers. But Philippe was surprised that Rafe still grabbed his hand, twining their fingers together as he pulled Philippe through the throng of people. It was utterly unnecessary. Rafe was hard to miss as he cut through the dancers, and Philippe wasn’t likely to encounter any trouble. No, Rafe simply wanted to hold his hand.