Charmed By The Wolf. Kristal Hollis

Chapter 8

      Anticipation coiled inside Tristan. He couldn’t wait to get Nel in his arms, hold her close and work up a sweat. He’d be a liar to deny he wanted more, but dancing was all he dared.

      Another quick visual sweep of the restaurant confirmed there were no simmering or escalating troubles, especially since Jaxen had left with Deidre. Even when he wasn’t looking directly at Nel, Tristan was intimately aware of every move, every breath, every sound she made.

      Methodically, she wiped her hands on a napkin and tucked it beside her empty plate. Her soft sigh sounded sad, disappointed, drawing his full attention.

      “What’s wrong?”

      “Nothing.” Her voice sounded tight and she avoided his direct gaze. “How much do I owe you for dinner?”

      “Nothing, it’s my treat.” No one had ever mistaken a date with him before. Maybe he was losing his touch.

      “Oh, okay. Um, thanks for dinner.” She inhaled a slow, deep breath. Her spine straightened and her shoulders stiffened. “It’s been a long day, so I’m going back to my cabin.”

      The sudden crash of disappointment left him speechless.

      Damn. How did he screw this up?

      They both stood and Tristan hooked his fingers through Nel’s to make sure she didn’t walk off.

      “One dance?” He gave her his best puppy dog look.

      “One,” she finally agreed.

      Despite the band’s fast beat, Tristan pulled Nel close and set their own slow pace. He waited a few more beats before asking, “So, how did I mess up at supper?”

      “You barely looked at me once the food arrived.”

      “I hadn’t had a decent meal since yesterday.” He was wolfan. Even when he wasn’t starving, food was a pretty big deal.

      “Hunger has nothing to do with roaming eyes.”

      “What?” Tristan halted their dance. Absolutely and unequivocally, he had not scoped out any woman tonight, aside from Nel.

      She looked up at him, her eyes clear, guileless, and a direct window to the vulnerability she was trying not to show.

      “I’m not the most desirable woman here tonight...”

      To him, she was. To prove it, he tipped her chin intending to give her a gentle kiss.

      But the moment her lips parted, Tristan’s rational mind disengaged and primal instinct took control. He swept her mouth, probing, claiming, branding her as much as she probed, claimed and branded him.

      Thankfully, she broke the kiss because he couldn’t.

      “You were saying?”

      She touched her fingers to her lips as if they tingled as much as his did. “That was an unfair distraction.”

      “But it was good, right? Good enough to adjust your perception?”

      “Do you find me boring? Because every few minutes you look away.”

      Tristan scratched his jaw. He was such an idiot for not mentioning it, but he’d done it for so long he no longer realized when he was doing it. “I’m partially blind.” He enticed her back into his arms, but she resisted getting as cozy as they were before. “I have no left peripheral vision. Whenever I sense movement on that side, I look.”

      “Oh.” Nel’s expression softened and he hated the sympathy that pooled in her big, beautiful eyes. “I’m sorry for the misunderstanding.”

      “Don’t be. I’m glad we cleared the air.”

      “Since we’re on the subject of clearing the air...” Nel inched closer. “Is it my imagination, or have you also sensed this thing...this energy bouncing between us?”

      He did, and wondered what it was. Even more so, he wondered what to do about it.

      * * *

      A fast country tune belted from the speakers. Penelope was swirling across the dance floor before her brain caught up with her body. Song after song, it seemed the rhythm never slowed. Neither did Tristan.

      Penelope’s laughter chased her all around the twirl Tristan spun her in until she landed back in his arms and he dipped her deep. Slowly, he brought her upright and flush to his body. She was panting too hard from exertion for her breath to hitch. Otherwise, it would have.

      “You are a fast learner. No one will ever believe you didn’t know those moves before tonight.” Tristan seemed in no hurry to have her step back. His hands palmed her low back, holding her in place. “Ready for the next one?”

      “I don’t have the energy to keep up the pace.” Her sigh was really an attempt to catch her breath. When she’d vowed to make up for lost time, she hadn’t meant to do it all at once.

      “We can slow it down again.” He drew her closer. So close her cheek rested against his chest.

      Admittedly, they’d hit a rough patch during the evening. However, Tristan impressed her with his earnestness in discussing the problem and his honesty in solving it.

      He was a true gentleman. Even now, squashed together as they were, his hands rested respectfully on her lower back, not copping a feel of her ass, which hopefully would not grow a size larger from the chicken wings she’d eaten at Tristan’s insistence.

      He didn’t seem to mind she wasn’t a size two, or even a ten, and she certainly appreciated the solid bulk of his muscular build. The face of Adonis, a body built for sex and a devilish Southern charm that could entice a woman to drop her panties without a second thought.

      So what was he doing with her?

      Yeah, they had some kind of inexplicable connection. Electricity sizzled between them and had from the start. She had no idea what it meant, but a definite idea of where she wanted it to lead.

      Unfortunately, despite the kiss and smoldering looks Tristan gave her, he hadn’t suggested anything more than a night of dancing.

      Maybe her fantasies had colored reality.

      “Hey!” Tristan’s hand glided up and down her back. “You’re all tensed up.”

      “Sorry. My mind wandered.”

      Tristan stared down at her. In the dim light his eyes looked puzzled, contemplative. “I must be rustier than I thought.”

      “Rustier at what?”

      “Entertaining a date.” He shrugged. “It’s been a while since I’ve been on one.”

      “You’re kidding.”

      “Nope.” His smile flatlined. “I’m not celibate, by any means, but those aren’t dates.”

      “What are they?”

      “Hookups, for lack of a better term.”

      “So, why is this a date and not a hookup?”

      Tristan’s eyes warmed. “I’m not angling to bed you at the end of the evening.”

      “Why not? Aren’t you attracted to me?”

      “I think I proved I am when I kissed you.” Tristan trailed the back of his hand along her cheek. “You aren’t the kind of woman a man turns to for a one-nighter. You are a now-and-for-always kind of woman.”

      “You’re assuming an awful lot about someone you just met.”

      “Am I?”

      “Sometime in the future, I may want to settle down,” Penelope said. “Right now, I’m stretching my wings and trying new things.”

      The band wound down to take a