Page 124 of Ruined Vows
“Afternoon,” he corrected smoothly. “Pick a place. I'll meet you there.”
“So eager,” I teased, leaning back in my chair. “If I didn't know better, I'd say you're desperate.”
“Not desperate,” he said. “Strategic.”
I rolled my eyes even though he couldn't see it. “This isn't a date.”
“Never said it was,” he replied, tone far too amused. “Strictly tactical.”
“Right. Tactical coffee.”
“You coming or not, Princess?”
The line went dead before I could fire back.
Typical.
I grabbed my bag from my desk and headed toward the office door, only to run straight into Joanne, who was walkingdown the hall, coffee in hand, and eyeing me like I was a live grenade.
“Where are you going?” she asked, tilting her head.
“Coffee,” I said breezily, sidestepping her.
“With who?” she asked, suspicion sharpening her tone.
I hesitated half a second too long. “Vukan.”
Her eyebrows shot up so high I thought they might leave her face. “Seriously?”
“It's not a date,” I said quickly. “It's—strategic.”
Joanne snorted. “Uh-huh. And I'm the Queen of England.”
“It's coffee,” I insisted. “Not marriage vows. Not blood oaths. No satanic rituals. Coffee.”
She leaned against the wall, arms crossed, grin wicked. “You're wearing lipstick.”
I wiped my mouth automatically, scowling when she laughed.
“I'll update you later,” I muttered. “Assuming I survive.”
“You mean assuming he survives,” she called after me.
I didn't answer because she might've had a point.
The coffee shopsmells like cinnamon and burnt espresso—a familiar, grounding scent.
He was already there when I arrived.
He’s leaning against the railing outside the café, dressed in dark jeans and a black button-down, sleeves pushed up just enough to show the veins along his forearms. Casual, lethal, like he’d just walked off the set of a dream I wasn't ready to admit having.
And the smell of him—God.
Leather and spice, clean soap and something darker underneath, something that hit the back of my throat and made rational thought feel like a lost cause.
Not a date, I reminded myself savagely. Just coffee. Just?—
Yeah.I’m so screwed.
