Page 10 of Misbehaving With Minotaurs
His dark brows bunch together. “I said, would you like to sit for a few minutes? Or shall we go on to our picnic?”
Oh, that’s tempting. I probably shouldn’t subject Vikand to any more skyball than absolutely necessary since he’s already made it clear he doesn’t like it. But on the other hand, Iloveit, and I wouldn’t give up my skyball love for anyone, date or not.
I grab his hand, threading my fingers through it. “I’d love to sit for a few minutes, but I’m very excited to get to the picnic portion of our afternoon.”
“Me too,” he says with a soft smile, his fingers tightening around mine. “I’m pretty hungry.”
Oh. Ermmm. Normally on a date with a male, I’d take that comment in a sensual way. But I’m fairly certain Vikand did not mean it the way I’dliketo take it.
Shoving dismay down, I pull him toward the front row ofseats. There’s a combination of regular seats and benches meant for the larger hooved monsters like Vikand. We find a spot in the middle of the field, and to my surprise, he asks a lot of questions as we observe.
I’m feeling better about things until the comm watch around his wrist beeps, a monster’s name hologram hovering over the blue band. Vikand looks down. “Oh goodness, this is my potential boss. I’ve got to take it, alright?”
“Of course.” I squeeze his forearm, even as he rises and trots back the way we came.
I let my hand fall back into my lap as I watch him go, admiring the shift of powerful muscles beneath his dark coat. A trail of pheromones follows him, plucking at the edges of my power.
“You out of practice, Cath?”
Whipping my head toward the field, I jolt at finding Manorin standing right in front of me, both huge arms resting on top of the wall as he grins. I can’t help a quick once-over as he clasps enormous hands together, smirking at me. This close, he still smells of glycerin soap and pine musk.
I lift my chin. “He’ll be back in a moment.”
Manorin snorts, the round gold ring in his nose flopping against his upper muzzle. “Maybe, maybe not. I don’t think he’s the male for you.”
Irritation swirls in my stomach as I rise to tower over him. “Oh?”
He takes a step back, gripping the railing as he looks up at me. He makes a show of perusing my figure, crimson eyes appreciative when they finally return to my face.
“Yeah. I’ll be by later to check in. We’re just about done here with,” he waves dismissively at the players on the field, “whatever this is.” He grins at me. “Let me take you to dinner so we can catch up. It’s been a long time, and I’d love to hear what I’ve missed in the last few centuries.”
“No thanks.” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. “I’ve got plans.”
The smile never leaves his handsome face. “If they involve that male, I suspect you’ll be left wanting. Come to dinner with me; I insist.”
“I don’t like your immediate assessment of him.” That’s all I can manage as I recline into my seat, laying one arm over the back of the seat next to mine.
Manorin watches the movement, nostrils flaring. He’s scenting me, I know he is, and minotaurs have excellent senses of smell. It’s one of the things that made him a particularly skillful lover.
Back in the day.
When he returns his gaze to mine, his mouth curls into a knowing smile. “Suit yourself, Cath. You look good, by the way. Been a long time, but that gray hair’s a nice change.” He reaches over the wall and grabs a stray wave, twirling it around his finger. “Gorgeous.” His smirk grows.
I hmph and look in the direction Vikand went. Manorin takes the cue and returns to the field. I’m woman enough to admit to staring at his long tail and broad back, admiring the view as he returns to the team.
The next quarter hour passes at the speed of molasses while I wait for Vikand to rejoin me. As the players wrap up, the sound of hooves echoes from the entry hall.
Smiling, I fluff my hair and stand to find Arkan trotting toward me with a baleful expression.
“Catherine, I’m so sorry, but I just saw Dad trot off toward downtown. He was muttering something about deadlines and contracts, and I thought you two were on a date. He’s been so excited by it, but, if I’m honest, he’s disjointed on the best of days.”
I plant both hands on my hips. “Arkan, are you telling me he went home and left me here?”
Arkan runs both hands through his braided hair, shifting from one foot to the other. “Yeah, I think so. Why don’t I call him and tell him to co?—”
I put my hand up. “That won’t be necessary, friend. I’ll catch up with him some other time.”
Arkan frowns. “He’s always been like this, honestly. Part of why he and Mom never worked out, if I had to guess.”
