“That’s too bad, krásavica.” He rubbed a very impressive erection between her legs. “Too bad, indeed.”

A whimper escaped her. “I think you need to work on your Slovak. Krásavica means glamour girl.” Fashion wasn’t her thing. Never had been, never would be.

“I know. Glamour girls are lovely...charming.”

An-n-nd there went her pleasure. “Basically another word for useless.” He’d never see her any other way, would he? “I have a name. I prefer it.” She pushed at him, and he frowned.

“I meant no insult. In a life as ugly as mine, beauty isn’t useless. Beauty is priceless.”

Guilt flared in the pit of her stomach. Perhaps she’d been a little hard on him for his choice of designations. “I’m sorry for giving you attitude.”

“Don’t be. I happen to like your attitude.” He led her down a flight of steps and into the kitchen where he’d set up the candlelit dinner for two. The scent of seafood, butter and yeast filled the air, making her mouth water.

“Did you cook this?” No, impossible, she thought as soon as the question left her. She’d only given him an hour. “I bet you sent one of the girls to a nearby restaurant.”

“Wrong on both counts. I had Lucien—he’s the keeper of Death—”

“I know. I’ve met him. Even wore his T-shirt.” He seemed to be the most levelheaded of the bunch. He loved rules, strove for a peaceful resolution whenever his friends argued and, the best, he always remained gentle with Anya, his fiancée; he’d earned Katarina’s respect.

“Lucien can flash. What you and I did the day I took you to Aleksander, moving from one location to another with only a thought. He called in an order and picked it up.” Baden held out a chair for her. “In Paris.”

Impressive. She sat, asking, “Why didn’t you pick it up? You can flash.”

He settled in the seat next to her, their thighs brushing together. “I can only flash to specific people. And apparently any place I consider home.”

People like Aleksander. So...Baden’s victims?

A gloved finger stroked the line of her jaw. “You just flinched. Why?”

“Your intentions toward Alek,” she said, opting for honesty. Hide nothing.

A vein throbbed in the center of Baden’s forehead. “If you’re planning to ask me to release him, don’t. He won’t leave the fortress alive.”

On one hand, yay! No more crazy, cruel Alek terrorizing the world. On the other hand... “Cold-blooded murder isn’t an acceptable solution to anything. And I don’t want him released.” Don’t want you committing a dark deed, sending you deeper into your turmoil. “I want an annulment...and maybe for you to leave him locked up for the rest of his natural life. As long as there’s breath, there’s hope.”

“He isn’t human, which means he’ll live—”

“What!” Not human? When did that happen? “He’s immortal?”

Baden frowned. “The beast is pawing at my head... I think Aleksander is merely half immortal, that he’ll live longer than you but not forever. Now.” He poured her a glass of red wine. “I don’t want to talk about him.”

Such a normal action from a man who wasn’t normal. “News flash. Your wants aren’t more important than mine.”

He searched her eyes before he nodded. “You’re right. Now I’m the one who’s sorry. Forgiven?”

How could she deny him when he hadn’t denied her? “Forgiven,” she said with a little smile.

As she sipped and moaned at the richness of the wine, he removed the lids from the platters of food. “Do you like seafood?”

“Love it.” Pretending to be a lady—only taking one small bite at a time—wasn’t as difficult as she would have guessed. With Baden’s attention fixed on her, watching her every move, her stomach twisted. The rest of her continued to ache.

“You look uncomfortable,” he said, almost sounding...smug.

“I am.” Play a little hard to get.

Actually, why bother? It had been too long since she’d experienced any kind of pleasure. If a night with Baden meant forgetting the past six months, if only for a little while, well, sign her up for a little some-some tonight.

“How, exactly, did you meet Aleksander?” He growled the name, as if it scraped his tongue.

If Baden were a dog, he would have barked at her, too. Maybe even nipped her. He would have been labeled aggressive, but as she knew, aggressive wasn’t synonymous with cruel. A growl was merely a warning: dark emotions were escalating.