Page 38 of Zirkov

“I arrived on time,” he snapped, upset that he’d put himself in this position where he couldn’t escape her.

Her smile faded and his horns tried to twist, but he forced them to remain still.

“I had trouble finding appropriate attire or I would have been here sooner.”

His eyes ran down the shimmering red dress, past her breasts and hips. The hem only reached the middle of her thighs, making him think of what lay beneath. His eyes trailed lower to find long, bare legs balancing on tiny, high-heeled shoes. Impractical, but they made her appear taller. The dress served no purpose other than to entice. And it worked. His mating cock couldn’t possibly turn any harder.

He looked away, hoping to distract himself from her beauty, if that were even possible. Every night, he closed his eyes and thought of her, falling asleep to the fantasy of being with her, despite his condition.

The odd silence in the restaurant caught his attention, making his hand slide toward his blaster. When he peered past Maggie, he discovered the reason for the lull in conversations. Most of the males, waiters and patrons alike, ran their eyes down Maggie.

Zirkov’s horns pitched forward in standard attack position. The males stared at Maggie with more than admiration in their eyes. Lust. He didn’t like it. Not at all.

“Your usual clothing would have sufficed.” His words came out clipped.

She didn’t shrink back at the slight. No, not his Maggie. She was as tough as any marshal he’d ever met. Eight months ago, she was shot protecting a witness—Gabriella Evans—but she never let the wound stop her from doing her job.

“I’d be out of place wearing my work clothes here. Look at the women around us, Z. They’re gorgeous.”

“They are?” He hadn’t noticed. Hadn’t cared to look at them, not when he had this beautiful female with hair the color of the setting sun and eyes as blue as Earth’s sky standing here before him.

He motioned to the chair. “Sit, Magdalena.”

“Am I in trouble?”

She didn’t like it when he called her Magdalena, but it was a beautiful name, one that fit her perfectly, like that dress.

“Why are we here, Z?”

“We have business to discuss. And I’m hungry.”

“Is that why you’re cranky?”

“Yes.”

“What’s your excuse the rest of the time?”

He raised a brow. “I don’t like when og’dals show up so close to where I’ve hidden my witnesses.”

“We have, what, three women in the L.A. area awaiting transport to Dal? The og’dals could be targeting any of them to keep them from testifying, but they could be here for other reasons, too. A few dead og’dals might be nothing more than every-day citizens seeking revenge for everything the og’dals did when they were here with the Coalition.”

“Then why kill them in isolated locations?”

“Enemy or not, murder’s still illegal, and everyone knows it. Have you learned anything from the bodies or the crime scenes?”

Maggie displayed no sign of nervousness, but she remained calm under pressure. She’d proved it when she took Nala’s place as a decoy on Zyan.

Zirkov leaned forward in his chair. “I know you were in that warehouse, where we found the first dead og’dal, Marshal.”

“Oh, it’sMarshalnow. So much for the expensive dress.”

“You meant to seduce me?” He strained to keep his eyes from roaming down her figure. Seeing her in that tight-fitting dress threatened to make him forget why he’d suggested this dinner.

Her mouth fell open. Such a beautiful sight. He could see himself thrusting into her, with her hands bound behind her back as she knelt before him. Drekk, he had no right dreaming of such things, not with the damage he’d caused.

With her chin lifted high, she rose from her chair. “I don’t use my body to get what I want.”

“Sit down. I didn’t dismiss you.”

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