Josette did very well at hiding it (from all but me, then again, neither man was paying much mind to Josette considering they were using so much of their own to size each other up) but I saw she found this amusing.
I did not.
Although it was attractive, from both men, especially Noc because I knew why he was behaving in such a way, it went on so long, it was also trying.
Fortunately, Patricia arrived. We met her. She was lovely. Her addition to our party meant the men were forced to be outwardly civil to each other. And not long after we were told our table was ready.
The problem was, Circe had not yet arrived and she was supposed to do just that ten minutes ago.
I sat but tipped my head back to look up at Noc who was standing behind me with his hand on my chair.
“I think I may need to text someone, darling,” I murmured.
“Leave it,” he said.
“Noc—”
He bent toward me.
“Circe got a crystal ball too?” he asked in a voice only I could hear.
Oh balls.
Would she look into it to see us, or where we were to have dinner to ascertain what she should wear (something I would do), or for any reason, therefore see Dax and decide not to come?
“Perhaps,” I answered.
“Then leave it,” Noc repeated. “If she figured out what you’re up to, we’ll put that fire out later. Now, I’m hungry. I want to eat. I want this night done. And I want you in that dress at my house, just you and me.”
I pressed my lips together.
He touched his to my jaw, straightened, pushed my chair to the table and then took his seat beside me.
I set my purse on the table beside my place setting, noting that as Noc and I spoke Dax had helped Josette and Patricia to their seats. Now he was watching Noc and me both closely.
When his regard finally settled only on me, he did not look alert and attuned to any action of the other alpha in his proximity.
His look was kind and warm, clearly communicating he was pleased I had such a protector after all he’d assumed I’d suffered.
Taking in that look, I gave him a small smile, hiding the triumph I felt inside for he was just perfect for Circe at the same time hiding a far more irritable thought.
This being…where the bloody hell was Circe?
“We seem to have an extra chair,” Patricia noted.
“Yes, we do,” Josette said quickly. “I forgot to mention, we invited a friend of ours. I hope you don’t mind. We thought she, too, would be interested in the work you do.”
Patricia smiled at Josette. “I don’t mind. I’d shout about the First Mother House from the rooftops if I could.”
I smiled at her benignly as she spoke.
Then I felt something. Something sudden and something fierce. It made me look away from Patricia and cut my eyes to Dax.
When I did, I felt my insides seize.
“Shit, fuck,” Noc muttered under his breath.
He felt it too.
Or saw it.
Or both.
Dax had been in the process of flipping open his menu.
He was no longer in this process.
Indeed, I didn’t think he even knew he held a menu in his hand.
Indeed, I didn’t think he even knew he was seated at a table in an eating establishment with company.
His eyes were locked at a point across the room.
And his expression was…
Well it was…
Savage.
I felt another tingle as I tore my gaze from him and looked across the room.
At what I saw, I nearly crowed aloud with delight.
Circe was wearing a champagne-colored dress with a tiered skirt made of the most extraordinary lace, an unusual embroidered bodice and very thin straps. It was delicate, chic, but flirty.
And obviously expensive.
Someone had been using their treasure well and it wasn’t just me.
Her hair was down in a tousled riot of curls that fell over her shoulders and even in her face.
Which was what she was seeing to as she moved toward our table, flipping her hair out of her eyes in a manner I’d seen several times from women espousing hair products during what Noc explained were “commercials” on the television.
Her makeup glinted with peachy-bronze beauty.
She was divine.
That was, she was divine until she got her hair out of her face, started to drop her hand, looked fully at our table with a smile, and obviously just then noticed one particular member of our party.
Thus she tripped.
Badly.
Her bag held in one hand went flying, her other hand went out to find purchase to save herself from falling and caught on a seated, elderly man’s shoulder.
He cried out in surprise as he took some of her weight.
Noc grunted, “Shit, fuck,” and I felt his movements.
I looked his way to see he was pushing his chair back, preparing to go in aid of Circe.
He was too late.
Dax was out of his seat and charging in her direction.
He didn’t even know she was coming in ours.
I looked to Josette.
She felt my regard and looked to me.
I smiled.
She let out a giggle.
“Are you all right?”
At his rumble, my attention returned to five feet away where Dax had one hand (now unnecessarily) on her waist steadying her, the other one held her clutch, which he’d clearly collected on his way.
Circe had her head tipped back, staring up at him, wide-eyed with lips parted, taking the clutch from him and doing this like her hand was moving through molasses.
Enchanting.
However, in his care, Dax misinterpreted her look for he moved into her protectively, bent his neck and cast his concerned gaze down to her feet, asking, “Did you twist an ankle? Are you hurt?”