Page 69 of Anatomy of the Immortal Species
He delayed his next message by half a minute on purpose.
I’m asking you out,he wrote.
Her reply was,No, thank you.
For the first time, Constantine considered Diana might be that good at keeping her distance from him because her desires matched his. Maybe she’d prefer something more like the woman in his bed right now.
He glanced over his shoulder at her. A witch with dyed dark-red hair and thick eyeliner framing her almond-shaped eyes. Her clothes were in a chaotic pile on the bed, a red lace thong with a waistband of pearls on top of it.
Normally, he’d take great pleasure in pulling the lace off her,but tonight he’d missed the entire undressing part.
Normally, he’d let his eyes linger on her red-painted nails tracing slow circles around the tempting triangle between her thighs.
Normally…
But Constantine’s eyes were back on his phone.
Not a date,he wrote.
What, then?came Diana’s quick response.
I want to show you something.
What?
Constantine had held her hand when she mourned her brother, kept her secrets as if they were his own, and yet she still met his every word with suspicion. It was infuriating, to say the least.
I’ll take you to an arranged fight.
There was a pause for a couple of minutes before Diana replied.All right. Where?
I’ll take you.
Where, Constantine?
A sudden urge to throw his phone against the wall rose within him. Maybe he should just give up on trying to save her stubborn ass.
Outside of Sofia,he typed.
Send me an address and a time.
No. Wait for me in front of the gym, 9 p.m.He sent the message and tossed his phone on the nightstand.
His attention returned to the redhead masturbating on his bed. He crawled beside her, giving her his full attention. His phone chimed with several consecutive texts, but he made a conscious effort to ignore them.
***
At 9 p.m., Constantine was waiting in front of the gym. He hadn’t read Diana’s last texts, but if she planned to stand him up, he’d quit trying to talk her out of participating in that damntournament.
Five minutes later, she appeared down the hallway in tight jeans, a black leather jacket, and platform sneakers that added some more inches to her already long legs. Straight hair framed her scowling face.
“Good evening, Diana.” Constantine gave a slight bow.
She wrinkled her nose. “You didn’t read my texts.”
“Sorry, I was busy.”
Diana’s gaze ran over the elegant cut of his dark grey pants, then moved up. Her attention lingered a moment on the open collar of his shirt and settled on the tousled hair falling over his forehead. “So busy you couldn’t read a few messages?”
