He gives a dry laugh, leaning back in his seat. “My family operates by a strict code of conduct. Follow their rules or suffer the consequences. I have three older brothers all vying for power.”
“That sounds… lonely.” Sympathy seeping in for the man I’d previously been so suspicious of.
He gives a nonchalant shrug. “My sister was my only ally, but she passed away a few years ago.”
Damn. For a guy who doesn’t want to tell me anything, the fact that he revealed this painful experience surprises me. “I’m sorry. That must have been hard.”
He stares into the distance for a moment. “She’s the only reason I got my friendship tail.”
I can’t imagine my life without Tori. If she hadn’t stuck by me, I don’t know where I’d be. Even more jaded than I already am, probably.
Julian hasn’t touched his drink, but now he takes a long sip. A faint crease grows in his forehead. “I was wrong about you.”
I let out a laugh. First I surprised him. Now he thinks he was wrong?
“What exactly do you think you were wrong about?” I ask. “That I haven’t tapped into my true potential yet, or that you’re the one to test me?”
He leans forward as the siren’s song wafts around us. Drawing my hand toward his waist, he shifts in his seat so that one of his knees nudges between my legs in a slow move that parts my skirt.
My smile falters as his gaze heats.
“When I assumed you’d never let me get this close to you,” he murmurs.
I meet the intensity in his eyes. I know nothing about him other than his name and that he wants me for something, but my body responds to the heat in his gaze as his hand untangles from my fingers and glides to my wrist. A pleasant shiver makes me tingle as his thumb strokes softly up the inside of my forearm, rekindling my dangerously reckless thoughts.
Leaning forward, I meet him halfway. “I won’t ask you again. And if you don’t tell me, I’ll have to walk away.” My voice lowers. Determined. I need answers. “What do you want, Julian?”
He wrenches his gaze from mine, taking a slow look at the other patrons before he gives me a small shake of his head. “Not here.”
Taking a chance, I slip forward, allowing his knee to slide farther between my legs. I catch myself with both hands on his broad chest. His muscles ripple beneath my fingertips, his breath quickly indrawn.
I lean close enough that my lips whisper across the corner of his mouth. “Then, let’s get out of here.”
5
Sliding from my chair, I push myself even closer against Julian’s warming body before catching his hand and drawing him out of his seat. We move away from the bar, the flying cocktail glasses, and the scent of saltwater, all the way back past the dragon shifter and the warlock and the entrance leading down into the body of the ship.
Once inside, I tug Julian's hand as we proceed down the stairs and along the long corridors toward the millionaires’ suites. We pass a number of smaller rooms on the way, but I want space to move around if things don’t go well between us. While I’ve moved past my original reservations about him given how heightened my attraction is, I’m not willing to dismiss the obvious secret he’s keeping. Whatever it is could change the heat building between us.
The room is laid out like a penthouse suite. A massive four-poster bed covered in crimson satin sheets rests against the far side, swathed in red curtains that are pulled open and tied with black ropes. Plush velvet armchairs sit around a glass table and multiple chairs are scattered around the room. The space is lit by lamps in each corner and at intervals along the wall, held in place by more octopus legs.
The faint vibration of drums thrumming through the walls adds to the tension rising between Julian and me.
The music fades as he closes the door and leans back against it. The crease in his forehead deepens as he starts to pace back and forth in front of the door. His gaze flashes to me every few steps, as if he’s grappling with a decision.
I consider him warily, before I cross the floor and sink into one of the armchairs. I nudge my heels off, not knowing what to expect. My senses tell me that he could just as likely draw me into conflict as speak with me. My pose is casual, but I’m ready for anything.
He stops pacing, running a hand through his hair before he startles me by slipping off his suit jacket. He places it carefully on the bed before slowly unbuttoning his dress shirt, revealing all of the perfect muscles I imagined exploring when he first approached me in the hallway.
“To answer your questions, I need to show you something,” he says.
I draw back in my seat, my breathing increasing, uncertain where all of this undressing is going…
After he deposits his shirt on top of his jacket, he pauses at the edge of the bed.
His gaze travels down my body from the curl of my blonde hair resting across my shoulder to my waist and all the way to my bare feet before traveling back up the slit that nearly reaches my hip, leaving my left leg completely exposed.
He strides toward me and I’m ready to stand up and meet him, but he kneels at my feet, catching my wrist and running his thumb across the sensitive inside of my arm, making me shiver. And also relax more than I should.
“Look, Oliva,” he commands.
Gently releasing my wrist, he turns his shoulder so that I can follow the swirls and labyrinthine of lines of his tribal tattoo from his right shoulder down his muscled bicep and forearm to his hand.
Wait a minute…
I startle as I realize that he’s showing me his right bicep—the one that should carry his kitsune marks.
I cast a rapid glance at his other arm—his empty arm—to confirm what I’m seeing.
“But… You’re kitsune… Where are your marks?”
He lowers his voice. “These are my marks,” he says.
My eyes widen. “I’ve never seen anything… like… this…”
My voice fades when he catches my hand and draws my fingertips along his bicep, following the curves of his tattoo.
At my touch, each swirl of the tattoo changes color. Crimson, bronze, gold…
“Take a good look,” he says. “Tell me what you don’t see.”
I trace his marks, counting out the colors. Only seven. He’s missing sapphire and rose gold.
My head shoots up. “Where are your strength and love marks?”
He shakes his head. “They never appeared.”
I consider him carefully. Strength was the first tail I thought about when I first discovered he’s a kitsune. I was sure he would have acquired it. Love is one thing but…
“How is it possible that you don’t have your strength mark?” I whisper. Of all the kitsune I’ve ever met, Julian should have earned his strength mark already. I can tell that by the way he moves and his reflexes earlier.
He reaches up to curl his fingers into my hair, brushing my neck. “How is it possible that you don’t have your beauty mark?”
He stands slowly, pulling me with him, his hands never leaving my exposed skin, his thumb grazing my jawline. Leaning forward, he tilts his head to plant a kiss against my skin beneath my ear. I follow his ascent and sway closer, discovering that he has a few inches of height on me now that I’ve taken off my heels, and I need to tip my head back to see him.