“It really does,” Samantha had to admit. “It’s gorgeous.”
So gorgeous, in fact, that she was honestly considering getting it—until she saw the price tag tucked inside one of the sleeves.
“Fifteen thousand dollars? For one dress?” she muttered to herself, shaking her head. “Huh-uh—no way!”
“A bit out of your price range?” the saleslady inquired frostily.
“Anything that costs more than the mortgage payment on my house is a ‘bit out of my price range,’” Samantha told her.
“Perhaps you’d like to look at our bargain rack?” the other woman asked with a sniff.
“No, that’s okay.”
Regretfully, Samantha slipped the sapphire sheath off and hung it back up. It was a shame the dress was so pricey, but then again, where would she wear it? She mostly lived in scrubs—there wasn’t much call for sexy dresses in the world of emergency surgery. Besides, she didn’t really need a new dress—the black one she’d worn to give her lecture in was perfectly suitable for evening wear, even in a nice restaurant.
She’d wandered around the Strip a little longer, taking in the sights and sounds, but eventually it was time to go back to the hotel. When she let herself into the ridiculously expensive Emperor Suite, the first thing she saw was a long white box with a red bow tied around it sitting on the black lacquered dining room table.
What the—
When she picked up the box, she saw there was an envelope with her name on it attached—the card inside was the same creamy card stock she’d seen earlier. Clearly Keller had access to her suite, and just as clearly, he wasn’t shy about letting her know it.
Samantha was just thinking that maybe she’d better call down to the front desk and get her room changed when she opened the box and found . . .
“Oh my God!” she breathed.
Inside the box was the sapphire sheath dress. There were even shoes to match it—strappy silver sandals that turned out to be exactly her size.
Only then did she think to flip open the card and see what it said.
Wear this tonight, please. You look lovely in it.
L.K.
“Damn it!” Samantha muttered to herself, not knowing what to do. On one hand, the gift was extravagant—much more than she ought to accept. On the other hand it was gorgeous. It had nearly broken her heart to leave it hanging in the little boutique. Now that she had it, she didn’t want to give it back.
In the end, after wrestling with her conscience, she finally slipped the dress and sandals on and went to her dinner date with Keller. Which was why she was more dressed up than she’d been since her high-school prom as she headed down the wide, echoing hallway leading to Twist.
Well, here I am. She came to a stop outside the archway leading into the plush dining area beyond. So where’s Keller? She hadn’t seen him since their parting after her lecture, although the fact that he had given her the dress proved he had been watching her, as he had promised.
“You look lovely tonight.”
The deep, smooth voice behind her made her jump. Samantha whirled around, nearly tripping in the high silver heels she wore, and saw Keller standing there. He had seemingly appeared out of thin air, like a Vegas magic trick.
“Good evening, Sammie.” He gave her a lazy grin that made her stomach do a flip, much to her annoyance.
“I told you not to call me that,” she protested.
“Why? Is it a term of affection reserved only for those who have earned it?” He gave her a piercing look. “If so, what do I have to do to earn it?”
“Stop following me around, for one thing,” she snapped.
“I think my ‘following’ you around had a rather positive effect,” he murmured, his leaf-green eyes running up and down her body. “That dress really does look amazing on you—it hugs your curves beautifully.”
“Okay, well . . .” Samantha sighed, letting go of her irritation. “Yes, thank you for the dress. Although I really shouldn’t accept such a lavish gift.”
“It was just my way of letting you know I really was keeping an eye on you, as I promised.” He smiled.
Just then the maitre d’, a trim older gentleman in a tux, came up to the little reservation lectern at the front of the restaurant and asked if they were there for dinner.
Keller stepped forward. “I have an eight o’clock reservation for two.”
“Of course, Sir. Right this way, if you please.”
Gathering two menus which looked more like leather-bound books, the maitre d’ led them through the posh, dimly lit restaurant to a small, private alcove with a table set for two.
“This is beautiful,” Samantha admitted as Keller pulled out her chair and helped her get seated. There was a small candle burning on the table alongside a single purple orchid in a black-lacquered oriental vase. The chairs they were sitting in were more like overstuffed armchairs than table chairs, upholstered in a fabric with curling gold-and-turquoise patterns on a black background.
“I’m glad you like it.” Keller opened the booklike menu and began to peruse the contents with a knowing eye. “How do you feel about a Chardonnay to start with?” he asked Samantha. “They have a 2007 Domaine Pierre Matrot that looks nice. Or we could always just do the 777.”
“Sorry, the what?” She frowned.
“The seven-course tasting menu with seven wines, one to accompany each course,” Keller explained. “It also costs seven hundred and seventy-seven dollars per person—hence the name.”
Samantha started to protest the price; she’d been to plenty of nice restaurants, but this still seemed like an awful lot to pay for food. Then again, Keller had put her up in a ten thousand dollar a night hotel room and bought her a fifteen thousand dollar dress all in one day. Another grand or two was probably nothing to him.
“Let’s see what that involves,” she said, opening her own menu-book.
A wall of black text met her eyes.
“Petitgris” escargot, sautéed porcini pushrooms with squid and spinach fondue, spätzle.
Samantha frowned. Spätzle? What the hell is spätzle?
She read further. Fig paste, beetroot syrup, seared foie gras with red marmalade butter, brioche, and red onions.
None of it sounded remotely appealing to Samantha, who preferred plain comfort food to froufrou any day. Even the dessert looked way too fancy. Skipping down to the bottom, she read: frozen banana, fresh ginger, broccoli and anchovy ice cream.
Samantha did a double take. Ugh! Are they serious? Broccoli and anchovy ice cream?
Trying not to let the disgust show on her face she said, “This tasting menu seems kind of . . . busy. Do you think they have anything simple here? You know, anything that doesn’t have a minimum of fifteen designer ingredients?”
“Oh? You don’t like this kind of cuisine?” Keller raised an eyebrow at her.
“Do you?” Samantha asked him bluntly. “I mean, do you really like it?”
“It’s . . . an acquired taste,” Keller said carefully. “I suppose I’ve been to so many of these types of restaurants with clients and prospective investors that I’ve grown accustomed to it.”
“I’ll try it,” Samantha said. “But to be honest, I think your seven hundred and seventy-seven dollars would be wasted on me. Most of my meals are eaten on the run between stints in the OR, so I haven’t had time to cultivate an educated palate—haute cuisine just isn’t my thing.”
“What kind of food do you enjoy, then?” Keller put his head to one side and looked at her intently. “I admit I made the reservations here tonight hoping to impress you, but clearly I misjudged.”
“It is impressive and beautiful,” Samantha said earnestly. “But if you want to know the truth, I prefer comfort food.”
“I have an idea.” Rising, Keller reached for her hand. “Will you come with me?”
“Where are we going?” Samantha took his offered hand carefully, waiting to see if there would be another jolt of orgasmic pleasure,
as there had been the last time she touched his bare skin. There wasn’t, though she did feel a warm hum of contentment when their skin made contact.
“You’ll see.” He led her out of the hotel, but once they were on the Strip, flashing with neon lights and blaring with car horns and the babble of people’s voices, Samantha balked.
“Wait a minute! Seriously, where are we going?”
“There’s a little noodle shop—a hole in the wall—not far from here, just off the Strip,” Keller told her. “It’s about as ‘comfort food’ as you can get.”
“Um, okay, that does sound good,” Samantha admitted. “But how far off the Strip is it? These shoes aren’t exactly meant for running marathons.” She pointed at the strappy silver sandals, which looked fabulous but were already hurting her feet.
“That’s not a problem.” Without warning, Keller swooped her into his arms and began striding down the sidewalk, carving a path through the crowded Strip with ease.
“Keller!” Samantha protested breathlessly. “Stop it and put me down! You can’t carry me all the way to the restaurant.”
“Why not?” He grinned at her, his white teeth flashing, the two canines just a little longer and sharper than they ought to be.
“Well, I mean because you’ll hurt yourself. Think of your lower back!” Samantha implored him.
“My back is fine—I could carry you all day.” He frowned down at her. “Why don’t you just enjoy the ride?”
“Because I’m not used to being carried!” Samantha wanted to struggle, but he was holding her pretty far off the ground—she didn’t want to fall flat on her ass.
“Get used to it.” He grinned at her again. “I like carrying you.”
There was clearly no use fighting with him. Samantha gave up and let him carry her, waiting for him to get tired of it and put her down. But that moment never came, he just kept walking tirelessly on with Samantha in his arms until at last they were standing in front of a little storefront with a plate-glass window.
Mama Fu’s was written in slashing script across the window, and someone had painted a steaming bowl of noodles beneath the words.
“Here we are—my favorite place in Vegas.” Keller grinned as he finally set her down.
“So you come here a lot?” Samantha asked as he took her hand and led her into the small, warmly lit restaurant. “I thought it was dangerous for Shifters.”
“It is—mostly for Shifter females, since they’re so rare. I come here on occasion for business, though. I’ve never had trouble, but I think it’s pretty clear I can take care of myself.”
Samantha bristled. “I can take care of myself too, you know. I’ve taken self-defense classes.”
“You might be a black belt in jujitsu for all I know,” Keller said blandly. “But that doesn’t change the fact that you don’t look like a black belt. You look like a small, curvy female, which equals easy prey to any predator out prowling around. Which means if you’re going to attract attention, you should at least make it the right kind of attention.”
“That’s why you insisted on carrying me.” Samantha looked at him sharply as they were seated by a small, bent old woman with bright eyes at a scuffed but clean wooden table with no cloth. “You wanted anyone who saw me to know that you were with me—that I had a . . . a protector. Is that right?”
Keller shrugged laconically. “That and the fact that I really do enjoy carrying you.”
“Excuse me? What kind of noodles, please?” the old lady asked, interrupting.
Keller raised an eyebrow at Samantha.
“Do you trust me?”
“Well . . .” She smiled grudgingly. “To a point.”
“Good—I’ll take what I can get for now.” Turning to the old woman, he spoke in rapid Cantonese. She nodded and turned away, leaving Samantha to stare at him in wonder.
“Okay, now you’re just showing off,” she said flatly.
“Yes, I am.” He grinned. “I’m not really fluent—I only know the food words because I love this kind of cuisine so much.”
“So what did you just order us?” Samantha asked. “Not anchovy ice cream, I hope.”
“Nope.” He laughed, a soft, deep rumble of sound that seemed to go right through her. “I got us some ramen bowls. Crispy duck and oxtail in homemade tonkotsu broth. They simmer it all day—it’s amazing.”
Samantha wasn’t sure what to think, but just then a heavenly aroma tickled her nose. Turning, she saw the tiny woman already coming back with two large, steaming bowls in her hands. She set one down in front of each of them, bowed, and said something in Cantonese to Keller.
He nodded his head and said something back—Samantha was beginning to think he was more fluent than he let on—and the old lady left, after giving each of them a pair of chopsticks and a shallow wooden ladle.
“This smells wonderful!” Samantha dug in, pulling up strands of hot noodles to cool them before taking a bite.
* * *
For a few minutes, the two of them were completely consumed with eating noodles. The rich, meaty broth and chunks of crispy duck and flavorful oxtail swimming around in the bowl, along with green onions and the tender noodles, was absolutely some of the best stuff Samantha had ever put in her mouth. It was a little messy, though, so she was careful not to get any of the delicious meal on her expensive new dress.
“Mmm . . .” she sighed at last, when she was beginning to feel full. “So tell me—what kind of a Shifter is my old mentor, Bloomsburg?”
“He’s a Cat of some kind. If I had to guess, I’d say Lion,” Keller said thoughtfully. “They’re rare around my neck of the woods, as they say back home, but there are a few pockets here and there in North America.”
“He never said anything to me about it,” Samantha said doubtfully. “Are you sure?”
“Positive.” Keller’s nostrils wrinkled. “My nose doesn’t lie. And as you haven’t yet gone through Rejuvenation, Bloomsburg probably felt it wasn’t proper to mention it to you.”
“I haven’t gone through it and I’m not going to go through it, Keller.” Samantha tried to make her voice gentle. “So if you’re hanging around hoping I’ll suddenly get twenty years younger and be willing to bear your babies, I’m afraid you’re barking up the wrong tree.”
“I’m not here to mate you,” he said stiffly. “I told you, Samantha—I’m here to protect you. You saved my life the other night, which means I owe you a life-debt. Which further means I couldn’t let you go into a dangerous situation without protection.”
“And how did you come out here to provide protection in the first place?” she demanded. “In my professional opinion, you shouldn’t have been able to leave that hospital bed for a month.”
He shrugged. “You underestimated my determination to be with you. I simply Shifted again after you were gone—it wasn’t easy with the broken bones, but the moon was still mostly full and that helped.”
Her eyes widened. “And the Shift really healed you that completely?”
“Well . . .” He moved one arm experimentally—the one that had been broken, she saw—and winced. “I am still a little tender in places, but I’m much better than I was.”
“That’s amazing.” She shook her head in awe. “I wish I could study you—write some kind of a paper. . . .”
“Not a good idea, I’m afraid,” Keller said blandly. “Though it’s true there are some humans who know of our existence, we Shifters prefer to leave the rest of the world in the dark as to our true natures.”
“I guess that makes sense,” Samantha said thoughtfully. “Knowing there are people out there that can Shift into huge, prehistoric animals would probably freak most people right the hell out.”
“Unfortunately true.” Keller took another sip of his broth.
“Especially if they knew how unstoppable you are and how fast you heal even from a mortal injury,” she added.
He shrugged. “Well that’s not strictly true. Even for a Shifter I heal quickl
y, because Cougars have natural regenerative and healing abilities that surpass those of other Shifters. Any other kind of Shifter probably would have died of my injuries, and they certainly wouldn’t be up and around as quickly as I’ve been.”
She raised an eyebrow at him. “So you healed yourself up and, I’m guessing, you left the hospital AMA? Against medical advice?”
“I know what AMA means, Samantha. And yes, I most certainly did.” He smiled complacently.
“I bet the nurses loved that.” She frowned. “I’m surprised they haven’t called me up to tell me. I left orders for you to be on strict bed rest.”
“Yes, I was made aware of that,” he said dryly. “By one night shift nurse in particular who should probably change her name to ‘Nurse Ratched.’”
“Oh, poor baby—were they mean to you in the big, bad hospital?” Samantha made a face of mock sympathy before grinning at him. “I think that’s just the saddest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“It’s all right.” Keller grinned. “The nurse in question was considerably more agreeable after she saw my Cougar.”
“What? You Shifted in front of her?” Samantha shivered. She could still remember her own fear and shock when she’d seen Keller change forms from a man to a massive, carnivorous beast with six-inch-long fangs and razor-sharp claws.
“No, of course not. But she happened to catch me in my Cougar form right after I Shifted,” he said. “I Shifted back again almost at once, though, so by the time the rest of the evening staff came running in, I was human again.”
“That poor nurse.” Samantha shook her head sympathetically. “She probably thinks she’s going crazy.”
“She’ll write it off as a momentary hallucination,” Keller predicted.
“Maybe. . . .” She frowned. “I just know I questioned my own sanity when I saw you and Mathis, uh, Shift. It changed my whole worldview.”
“And is that a good thing or a bad thing?” He leaned across the table, studying her intently.
For some reason, his intense scrutiny made her shift uncomfortably on the hard wooden chair.
“A good thing . . . I think,” she said. “I mean, I’ve always loved learning new things—it’s one reason I became a doctor. But it can be a little hard to take when the new thing you’re learning affects you so personally.”