I'm dedicating this chapter to MyWeirdImagination! I love loyal followers that let me know they are reading the book and want me to continue writing it. love you ❤
A couple of hours later, I looked utterly delicious and felt completely miserable. Francesca had picked out a few outfits for me, not one of them practical in the slightest. I was currently trussed in a black lace cocktail dress with terribly cute but impossibly high heels. My feet hurt after just five minutes, but I had to admit that the effect was impressive.
So was the bill for everything.
Francesca had sent me to a beauty salon after she'd picked out my clothing. My long straight hair had been fluffed and teased and blown-out within an inch of its life, and the resulting white-blond mess atop my head was gorgeous, artfully tousled, and crunchy with hairspray. It looked great as long as you didn't touch it. The makeup artist had lined my eyes with a delicate gray liner that made them seem bigger, and had pinked my complexion with some artful blush. The resulting effect was dewy, and I looked very much like a nubile ingénue.
Jason seemed to think so, too, and the looks he was giving me were going to cause a permanent blush.
He was every inch as dazzling as I'd remembered. He had a heavy build, all muscle and tanned flesh, whereas Beau ran toward lean (but with very broad shoulders). He wore a charcoal wool jacket with an open-neck pale blue silk shirt. He looked every inch the rich playboy-except for one thing. For all his gorgeous looks and his money, Jason was very heavily into cheap cologne. Very. Heavily. Either BRUT or Old Spice.
Still, the character of a man wasn't determined by the quality or quantity of his cologne, and I resolved to look past it. I gave Jason a faint smile over my water glass.
"Is that all you're going to eat?" he said, indicating my small salad. "Please order anything you'd like."
I gave a small shrug. "I'm really not that hungry." Actually, I was ravenous, but Giselle had two more meals scheduled for me, so I was holding back. Plus, everything I put in my mouth seemed to taste like Old Spice. So I drank my water and pretended interest as Jason talked.
And tried not to think about Beau. He'd smelled really nice. Last night when I'd been cuddled up against him, a faint, spicy scent had clung to his skin that I hadn't been able to figure out. Deodorant or body wash, maybe. Very subtle, and clean.
My nose itched. I decided that I liked subtle and clean.
"-friends with Beau Russell?"
I focused back in on my date, who was beaming a megawatt white smile at me. "I'm sorry?"
"I was asking about Beau. He's a friend of yours?"
Blank, I stared at him. He'd heard my phone conversation and wanted to call us "friends"? "I guess you could call it that." Is that what Giselle was calling it? Best to play along.
"I hear he's an important man in his clan."
Talking about him made me unhappy, so I said, "I wouldn't know."
To my relief he took the hint and switched the topic to other things. Jason was a wonderful date-he was witty, charming, laughed at my attempts at humor, and made me feel pretty. Women slowed as they walked past our table, checking him out. He touched my hand repeatedly, devoured me with his eyes, and made it obvious that he wanted to eat me up like candy.
So why was my brain entirely focused on the man I'd been out with last night? Both men were were-cougars. Both men were handsome. Jason was the epitome of niceness, while Beau's playful smile drove me crazy with desire.
