And despite Carys’s obvious trust and affection for Rune, there was no way in hell Nathan would leave Jordana’s well-being in that male’s hands.
Fuck.
Her apartment wasn’t far. He could drop her off safely and be back on task with his patrol team in no time.
“Come on,” he said. “Let’s go.”
Nathan clamped his hand around her wrist and took her with him outside.
9
FIVE MINUTES LATER, JORDANA WAS SEATED ON THE PASSENGER side of her car, watching Nathan navigate the Back Bay’s maze of one-way streets en route to her apartment. “It really wasn’t necessary for you to take me home. I could’ve managed on my own.”
“Out of the question,” he said, his stern profile bathed in the milky glow of the dashboard.
His deep voice brooked no argument, and she was instantly reminded that Nathan was no Darkhaven gentleman. He was an Order squad captain. A Gen One Breed male and former assassin.
A man adept at killing in God only knew how many ways. And yet here he was, playing designated driver to her after she’d foolishly over-imbibed.
Already she was sobering up, the mild alcohol buzz replaced by the twitchy flutter of her pulse as she sat beside Nathan in the dimly lit vehicle.
“Anyway, thank you,” she murmured belatedly, unable to tear her eyes from him.
He was handsome in a harsh way, his cheekbones too sharp, his jaw too square and unyielding. His eyes were stormier than ever as he sped her home, a blue-green thundercloud under the severe slashes of his black brows.
His mouth was easily the softest of his features, his lips far too full and lush for the cool, almost constant grimness of his expression. Jordana knew all too well how warm those broad, sculpted lips could be. As she looked at him beside her in the vehicle, she was wildly tempted to taste them again.
He glanced her way, no doubt feeling her eyes on him. “I wouldn’t have guessed La Notte was your kind of place, considering what goes on there.”
Jordana shrugged. “I don’t spend much time at the club normally. The only reason I went tonight was because I knew Carys was there with Rune.”
“Looked to me like you were having a pretty good time up there in the front row outside the fighting cages.”
She frowned, hating that she’d let herself get caught up in the seedy entertainments of the club. Elliott would be upset if he found out, but her father would likely go apoplectic if he found out she knew the place even existed, let alone that she’d been inside.
“Of course, I don’t condone the violence of the matches,” she murmured, “nor the fact that profits are being made off spilled blood. It’s an appalling business.”
He grunted. “The fights aren’t the only way La Notte’s owner fills his purse.”
Jordana knew he wasn’t talking about the bar and dancing at street level, nor the sim lounge where people could slip into their choice of several virtual reality landscapes at a hefty hourly rate. “You mean the BDSM dens downstairs.”
Nathan swung a dark look on her. “You know about the sex rooms?”
“I haven’t actually seen them,” she hedged. “Carys told me about them.”
He cursed, low under his breath. “Don’t tell me Rune has taken her in there. For f**k’s sake, tell me he doesn’t do that with her—”
“No.” Jordana gave a dismissive shake of her head. “No, of course not. He might make his living in the cages, but Rune’s nothing but gentle with Carys. He’s protective of her, always. He wouldn’t even want her near that part of the club.”
Another grunt from Nathan, this time with a mix of relief and something else that Jordana couldn’t discern. He seemed to grow more tense now, staring back at the road ahead, a muscle ticking hard in his jaw. “If Rune truly cared about Carys, he’d make sure she never stepped foot in La Notte at all. It’s no place for you either.”
Jordana arched a brow. “Now you’re starting to sound like Elliott. He’s all but forbidden me from the place.”
Nathan gave her a sidelong look. “And yet you went there tonight.”
“Elliott Bentley-Squire doesn’t own me. I’m perfectly capable of handling myself.” She scoffed lightly, realizing how perfectly incapable she must appear to Nathan right now. “Well, I can usually handle myself. Tonight was an exception. I’m embarrassed that you feel you have to see me home.”
“It’s nothing,” he replied.
But it was something to Jordana. It was a chivalrous gesture from a man who hadn’t exactly struck her as the noble type. She would not have imagined he’d had it in him, considering he was more accustomed to combat and brutality and death.
There was probably a lot she had to learn about Nathan, and as she studied his grave profile, she found herself hoping she might have the chance to understand everything about the remote, unreadable man.
“Before we left the club,” Nathan said, “you told me you didn’t want to go home alone. What was that about?”
Jordana tried to wave off the question. “It was silly. Something happened at work tonight as I was leaving, and I got spooked. I’m sure it was nothing.”
“What happened?” Nathan was all warrior now, no longer posing a light inquiry but demanding an answer.
“I thought I saw someone outside the museum tonight, as I was heading for my car. I thought he was watching me.” It sounded foolish to her now, even though at the time she’d been more than a little rattled.