Page 57 of The Mating Fire
First, non-threatening attire.
Jared waved a hand and clothed himself in a navy and white baseball shirt, faded jeans and sneakers. He studied his appearance in the gilt mirror near the fireplace. Now he looked ready to play sports.
“Batter up,” he muttered.
This was stupid. Sighing, he waved a hand and a crisp white dress shirt, red tie and charcoal gray suit appeared on his body in place of the more casual attire.
The same outfit he’d worn at the bar when he’d first met Harper.
At least in these clothes he felt more authentic, and not someone trying to make an impression (hey, I’m not a threat, nothat wasn’t me, the hairy beast with fangs and horns last night, look, this is a good suit. Beasts don’t wear Italian silk).
As he headed downstairs to the balcony where they enjoyed dining, Jared had to laugh. Here he was, an experienced incubus, nervous about seeing a woman. Hellfire, he couldn’t even recall the last time a woman made him nervous.
Because she matters to you, much as you hate to admit it. You really like her. You’re starting to care.
Jared adjusted the cuffs of his shirt and scowled as he took the stairs in a brisk stride.
So intent was he on rehearsing his little speech to Harper, he didn’t see her leaving her room and bumped into her.
“Whoa,” she cried out, losing her balance, her arms pinwheeling. She sank against the wall and stared at him.
Oh, the power of that clear blue gaze, so beautiful and introspective and … soulful. Flustered, he cleared his throat as he steadied her, enjoying the warmth of her soft shoulders beneath his hands.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
She nodded, her expression inscrutable.
“I apologize.” Jared went with his instincts. “For this, and last night, when I was beastly to you.”
Harper didn’t say anything for a minute as his heart hammered against his chest. If she was going to bolt, now was the time.
He gambled. “If you wish to leave the castle, I will make arrangements to bring you to a safe place where you may continue your training.”
Harper’s gaze never left his. “But you are a beast.”
As his heart sank, she smiled at him. Such a wondrous, sweet smile that erased all his doubts and lifted his sagging spirits.
“A hairy beast.” Mischief entered her gaze. “Now I know why you have that beard. I bet it’s hard to shave every morning with all that fur.”
Grinning, he rubbed a hand over his short-cropped beard. “It is a challenge at times. Though I do shave my legs in the shower. Kind of wears down razors, so I buy in bulk.”
She laughed. “Try waxing.”
He shuddered. “Torture.”
Harper fell into step with him as they headed to the balcony off the dining room. “Did you sleep okay?”
As they reached the dining room door, he held it open for her. “I never sleep.”
Harper gaped at him as they walked into the cavernous room. “Never? That’s terrible. You must be exhausted all the time.”
He shrugged, hiding his pleasure at her concern. “I’ve learned to deal with it.”
When they were sitting at the table outside, their breakfast appearing on the table at his simple command, he decided to tell her.
“You saw me at my worst last night. Again, I apologize for my harsh words.”
“You did warn me, so it’s my fault for intruding.” She added sugar and cream to her steaming coffee cup and then sipped. “What happened to you, Jared? I daresay that isn’t your incubus form.”
