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|Prince of Wolves(Grey Wolves #1) by Quinn Loftis|
The scent wouldn’t last long, only a day or so. The only permanent way to put his scent on her was to complete the bond. Unfortunately, they weren’t quite there yet.
With that, Fane turned away from his mate and walked back to the Henrys'. At the door, he turned one last time and found her still standing there, watching him. He lifted his hand to his mouth and blew her a kiss, sending her a thought. “Sweet dreams, meu inimă. Dream of me. I will be dreaming of you.”
Jacque stood on her front porch, staring as Fane retreated to the Henrys'. She wanted to call him back, didn’t want to spend a second without him. Get a grip, woman. She took a few deep breaths, trying to clear her mind, and when she did she noticed the subtle scent of woods and spice. Strange, but the scent called to her, comforted her, like she could wrap herself in a blanket of it.
She took one last look at the Henrys' house and turned to go in.
“Mom,” she hollered. “I’m back in.”
“Okay, the girls took some brownies upstairs. Are you okay? Need to talk about anything?” her mom asked.
“No, I’m good,” Jacque told her. “Oh, there is one thing. Fane asked me out on a date for tomorrow night. That okay?”
Lilly looked at her daughter, trying to decide if she thought it a good idea for her daughter be with him. After all, she did know who and what Fane was, not that anyone else knew that. Although, she was beginning to think that Fane might suspect something.
“Yeah, that’s fine. You two know what you’re going to do?”
“Not yet,” Jacque answered, then went upstairs to give the latest news to her two partners in crime.
Jacque opened her bedroom door to find Jen and Sally lying on her bedroom floor, happily munching on the brownies Sara had brought over.
“Soooo, did he confess his undying love for you and ask you to run away to his Romanian castle?” Sally asked in a wistful voice.
“Oh my gosh,” Jacque said sarcastically. “How did you know?”
“I’m just good like that. Ya know, with the knowing the future and what not,” Sally answered.
“Yeah, yeah. You’re a real gypsy,” Jen told her.
“So, do we have to beat it out of you or are you going to confess willingly? ‘Cause you know I’m into the whole torture thing, it’s how I roll,” Jen said, sounding absolutely sure of herself.
“Well, he told me that we had things to talk about but that tonight wasn't the night to do it. He wanted to talk to his father first, whatever that means. Then he asked me out on a date, and then he leaned in close to me…” Jacque started to explain, but Jen interrupted.
“He kissed you?! Was it good? Were his lips soft? Were his lips closed or were they slightly parted like he might want to wrestle with…” Jen asked rapidly, not even taking a breath.
“Step back, Don Juan. Don’t even finish that sentence, let me,” Jacque scolded.
“Well, if he didn’t kiss you then lie to me so I can live vicariously through your pretend love life,” Jen told her with a pout.
Jacque ignored that comment and continued with her story. “So he leaned in close and at first I thought he was going to kiss me, but then his head went slightly to the right and his mouth was right next to my ear. He blew on my neck.”
“Why?” Sally asked confusedly.
“I know, right? I don’t know. I do know I nearly grabbed him by the shirt and kissed him myself. He must have been blocking his mind from mine because I didn’t pick up anything.”
“Wicked,” Jen said, looking thoughtful.
“Did you say ‘yes’ to going out on a date with him?” Sally asked Jacque.
“All I got to say is if she said no, she might not want to go to sleep tonight, ‘cause I’m going to dye her hair blonde to compliment her on being a dumb ass,” Jen told them.
“Uh, Jen. You’re a blonde,” Jacque pointed out.
“No, not really. God just got it wrong and it was too late to change once He noticed.”
Sally shook her head and said, “Sometimes, Jen, I really worry about you.”
Jen didn’t say anything more.
“Well, put away your hair dye you overreacting freak. I said yes. I asked him what I should wear and he said just something to be comfortable riding a motorcycle. Just when I was going to tell him I didn’t have a helmet, he said not to worry – he had already bought me one!” Jacque told them.
“Yummy,” Jen said. “Confidence is so sexy.”
“You think anything is sexy,” Sally retorted.
“Not true. Guys driving those hybrid cars are so not sexy,” Jen told her.
“Is she serious?” Sally asked Jacque. “I mean, who thinks of stuff like that?”
“I've found that if you just nod your head while she’s talking, she eventually wears herself out,” Jacque said with a smile.
“Oh, and then when he was walking to the Henrys' he turned and blew me a kiss and told me to have sweet dreams, that he would be dreaming of me!” Jacque finished.
“Oh, that is so freaking romantic!” Sally exclaimed as she rolled over onto her back, kicking her legs in the air and squealing.
Jacque couldn’t disagree, but it also felt surreal. She had to admit he'd successfully gotten her to stop thinking about Trent. How could she when this gorgeous Romanian hunk was claiming she was his – whatever it was he called her.
“Yeah, it’s romantic,” Jacque said. “But there's definitely the proverbial other shoe that's going to drop sooner or later.”
“Oh, don’t be so pessimistic,” Jen told her. “Maybe he’s the one, you know, like in those romantic movies where a person has one true soul mate. I mean, he can talk to you telepathically, so it could happen.”
Jacque couldn’t argue with Jen’s assessment of the situation. Anything is possible at this point, she told herself.
Jacque found herself stretching and yawning. She looked at the clock on her phone and saw that it was eleven thirty. Man, she didn’t realize how late it had gotten. They'd been having such a good time playing games that time had flown.
“I’m gonna crash, ya’ll. Here are your blankets,” Jacque told them as she handed them out.
“Yeah, you’d better go to sleep. You need to look your best. Bags under your eyes just doesn’t say, 'Hey, throw me on the floor and take me',” Jen said.