“Are you serious?” Elena Fortescu stared at her bodyguard.
“Dead.” Nicolas Dupree stood his ground.
At six foot six and a wall of solid muscle, he couldn’t be used to having people stand up to him, but she wasn’t afraid of him. It had been a long year. A long, long, loooong year. One where she’d been cooped up in this house. All because of Lucian.
So Nicolas guarded her during the day and her cousin Adrian watched her at night. Since he was human, she’d assumed Nicolas would be easier to manipulate, but Adrian was the one who couldn’t stop her from doing anything. And Nicolas was the one who had her respect. She spent the days either sleeping or with Nicolas. She’d grown to know him very well, and he probably thought he knew her well, but he would be wrong. If he knew what she was he’d tremble in his black boots.
Instead, his brilliant blue eyes met hers in a challenge she couldn’t let pass. Ever since she’d healed physically, she’d been itching for a fight. Preferably with Lucian. That bastard was the reason Sorin had hired her bodyguards, and the reason for her sleepless days and nights. She wanted blood. It didn’t even matter whose blood it was at this point. And Nicolas’s called to her like a siren’s song.
“You don’t know what you’re saying. You have no right to make me stay inside,” Elena snapped, and turned to walk past him.
“The hell I don’t, princess. You’re not setting one foot outside those doors tonight.” He crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes as he stepped in front of her.
“You don’t scare me, Nicolas. Now move out of my way.” She reached out to push him away, but he wedged himself in the doorframe and wouldn’t budge. “If I have to hurt you to get outside, I will.”
Nicolas snorted and shook his head. “Not a chance, honey.”
“Don’t honey me, you big baboon. I’m a grown woman. I’m older than you! I can go out for a drink if I want.”
“Not dressed like that.”
Elena looked down. She had on a short black dress that covered the essentials. A silver chain accentuated her small waist, and black boots came up to her thighs. Her outfit was actually conservative compared to most others she’d seen lately. When you have the body of the eternally young, why not flaunt it? “What’s wrong with the way I look?”
“Nothing, if you want to get propositioned by every man in the bar.”
Nicolas stared pointedly at her breasts. “That is cut so low I can see your nipples.”
“In your dreams, honey,” she mocked, tossing the endearment back at him.
“You wouldn’t want to know about my dreams,” he purred and then licked his lips.
“All right.” Elena immediately switched into fighting mode. “Let’s see you take me, big guy.”