Page 53 of Ruthless Creatures
I need to see a doctor about my cardiovascular fitness.
Kage must know I’m not up to a coherent response at this point, because he shows mercy by turning businesslike.
“All right, Ms. Peterson. I accept your offer for a date. What time are you picking me up?”
“Me? Pickyouup? Wait—”
“You’re right, I should drive. People who burn cookies so badly can’t be trusted behind the wheel of a car.”
I laugh. “Oh, so you want me to communicate with you? Here’s where I tell you not to be a chauvinistic jerk.”
“You weren’t kidding about missing that day in etiquette class.”
“I missed the one about not being a wisecracking little smart aleck, too.”
Once again, he pulls a one-eighty, going from light to dark like quicksilver.
“Don’t worry,” he says in a hard, dominant voice. “I’ll correct that bad behavior. I’ll correct it over and over again with the palm of my hand on your naked ass until you’re writhing on my lap and begging me to let you come.”
Then he tells me he’ll pick me up at six and hangs up on me.
THIRTEEN
NAT
When Kage knocks on my door at six, I’m calm and ready.
Ha!
I’m actually a nervous wreck, but I’m determined not to show it.
When I open up, I find him standing on my porch in his signature outlaw-meets-aristocrat ensemble of denim, leather, and luxury wool. That overcoat he’s wearing probably cost more than my car.
His unruly hair is tamed. His expression is stern. In one of his big paws he holds a bouquet of dainty white flowers wrapped with a white satin ribbon.
It’s an unexpectedly sweet gesture. Courtly. I have a hard time imagining him at a florist, picking out individual stems, but the bouquet is obviously not one of those pre-made grocery store things. It looks more like his wardrobe: simple but expensive.
This is a man who takes care when he chooses things.
“Hi,” I say, feeling shy. “You look great.”
“Not as great as you.” He holds out the flowers.
I take them from him and invite him in. “I’ll just put these in water and get my coat, and we can get going.”
Kage closes the door as I head into the kitchen in search of a vase. I find one in a cabinet over the fridge. I fill it with water, remove the plastic wrap and ribbon from the bouquet, and recut the stems of the flowers.
Then I try not to fidget as I arrange the flowers in the vase and Kage stands two feet away drinking me in like he’s a cactus in a drought-ravaged desert and I’m the first spring rain.
Flustered by the intensity of his gaze, the floodgates open.
“You hung up on me before I could tell you that Sloane and her boyfriend will be joining us. Actually, I’m not sure if he’s technically her boyfriend, that’s just what I’m calling him because there’s really no polite term for ‘flavor of the month.’ She goes through men like tissues. Not that I’m judging her. I’m not. I’m just saying he’ll be there. This guy. Oh, and a few of his friends, too, apparently. I hope that’s okay. I know this was supposed to beourdate, but actually it’s a double date. I mean, itisstill our date, it’s just that more people will be—”
Kage reaches out and gently grasps my wrist. “Easy,” he murmurs. “Take a breath.”
I close my eyes and do just that. “Sorry. I’m not normally this high-strung.”
“I know. Me neither.”
