"If you lost, why are you stil here?" Alexander stood dead center in the workout room Lucian had put together a few months back, holding a heavy canvas bag while Nicholas punched the shit out of it. "Why aren't you out looking for a nice dress and clutch."

Nicholas paused midjab, and glanced up at his brother.

"What the hel 's a clutch?"

"It's a purse." His brows knit together thoughtfully. "At least I think it's a purse."

Nicholas shot the paven a troubled glare. "Maybe you should ask yourself if that's something a Pureblood paven needs to know."

"I have a mate, asshole."

"And she has a clutch?"

Alexander grinned, flashed his white fangs. "Several of them."

"And I didn't lose." Sans gloves, Nicholas hauled back and smashed his bloody knuckles into the bag. "It was a draw."

"Wow. She's either extraordinarily fast or you're-"

"A gentlepaven," Nicholas finished for him. To be honest, he wasn't sure what had happened down there in the tunnels, from the moment he'd tasted her al the way to the end of the race. He wasn't about to share his lack of clarity with his big brother. "I don't need to prove myself."

"So you let her win."

"It was a draw," Nicholas said again, showing his annoyance with a fast six-punch combination.

Jacked backward with the bag, Alexander asked, "Then why aren't you together right now instead of hanging here, mucking up this bag with your O Negative?"

"Because I don't have any SPF 1000."

"Right. The crispy bacon excuse."

Nicholas grinned. "Gotta keep myself pretty for tonight."

"Hot date with your bait?"

Nicholas jacked up an eyebrow. "How long have you been waiting to say that?"

"Just came to me on the fly," Alexander said, grinning, displaying his pearly white fangs. "Dare doesn't need sunscreen, so what's going to stop him from going after your girl while she's trying on shit?"

"Dillon," Nicholas said, accentuating the name with a hard jab to the bag's belly.

Alexander laughed. "No shit. Didn't she have to go back to the office?"

"She made it happen."

"Oh my God, that's priceless. How did you get her to agree to it?"

"I didn't, Sara did."

"Figures." Alexander shook his head. "What I wouldn't give to see that hard-ass veana hanging out in the dressing room at BG."

Nicholas stopped and hugged the bag, his breathing heavy. "If you didn't have a mate I swear to God . . . You heavy. "If you didn't have a mate I swear to God . . . You know what BG stands for, right?"

"Of course."

"It's not 'Blood Giver.'"

Alexander shrugged. "Bergdorf Goodman."

"Christ." Wiping the sweat from his eyes, Nicholas started again, started over with a right uppercut to the

"head." "Has Sara spoken with Pearl McClean's mother yet? Any word on the location of Dare's human incubator?"

Alexander laughed darkly. "Interesting segue, Duro. Of course we don't have to talk about your veana anymore."

"She's not my veana. She's not my anything." But even as he said the words his body rebel ed against him, sending al kinds of electric shocks into the back of his throat. So. What? Did he tel Alex about his suspicions?

Did he tel him that Kate Everborne might be the catalyst to his aggressive mood as of late? That she may be sporting his mark on her skin at that very moment? Or did he keep it to himself?

"Sara spoke to the girl's mother twice over Christmas,"

Alexander said, pul ing Nicholas from his thoughts and his questions. "But every time she's tried to get in contact since, nothing."

"No matter," Nicholas said. "We'l get to Dare without the help of his female." Suddenly there was no bag in front of Nicholas, just Dare, and he crouched down and hit the 1, 2, 3-head, chin, temple-with every ounce of muscle, every thread of hate he possessed. "Fuck!" he roared.

When he pulled back, breathing heavy and up to his eyebal s in hostility, he felt the marks on his cheeks tremble.

"With the magic we have surrounding this place, Dare can't get to Kate, but he seems to be able to scent her everywhere else. The club is the way to go-dark, packed, easy to get her lost while we surround and take him out."

"Too bad we can't ask Gray to handle another lookout for us," Alexander said. "Club scene's been his home away from home lately."

"We can always ask, Duro," Nicholas said. "The boy wil come around eventually."

Alexander shook his head. "The boy didn't come home last night." His nostrils flared. "Don't tel Sara. She doesn't need to know."

"Not a word." About anything, he thought. And this time it was Nicholas who held the bag as his brother gave it a good beating.

This was so not her scene.

Kate walked out of the dressing room in Bergdorf Goodman and stood awkwardly in front of Sara and Dillon-the two couldn't have been more different in the whole shopping-for-clothes department. While one was nearly giddy, the other looked like she wanted to ram a sharp object through her unbeating heart.

"I love that on you," Sara declared from her post, seated deep within a lovely gold plush chair.

Kate shrugged. "Great. First one out of the hatch. I'll get it."

"And more importantly," Sara said, her blue eyes annoyingly endearing, "Nicholas wil love it. Don't you think so, Dillon?"

Leaning against the wall, the cat-eyed veana who wore a black pantsuit and a bored expression muttered a terse,

"Don't know. Don't care."

Sara tossed the bodyguard a frustrated glare. "Fine. Just stand there."

"That's the plan," Dillon said.

Feeling a bit like a mermaid in the tight-fitting black silk gown with a metal ic panel running down one side, Kate headed over to the massive framed mirror where Sara was holding court in her gold chair. "I'm not trying to impress Nicholas. In fact, I'm here in this ridiculously expensive store only because he wants me to get something for my debut tonight."

"Debut?"

"Yes." Kate crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm playing the role of 'Bait' in the new production of 'Capture and Kil Ethan Dare.'"

Holding up the wal in the corner, Dillon snorted.

"What?" Sara came forward in her chair. "He's using you?"

"Don't look so shocked," Kate said.

"How about pissed off?" Sara returned. "Can I look pissed off?"

"Yes. You can." Kate smiled, tried to lighten the mood.

But it didn't work.

The female was up now, pacing in front of the mirror, her ire palpable now. "You don't have to do this. I'll talk to Alexander." She started shaking her head. "I swear to God, if he knows about this . . ."

"Stop," Kate urged. This wasn't anybody's business but hers. "Sara. Please, stop."

"Yes, Sara," Dillon agreed sarcastically. "Please stop."

Sara came to a halt and breathed out a frustrated,

"What?"

"I have to do this." Cocking her head to the side, Kate eyebal ed the pretty doctor, hoping that her expression and body language said it al -"I don't want to discuss it."

Sara bit her lip, the tips of her fangs showing. Then she sighed. "Well, if you have to, then I say we don't make it easy on him."

"What do you have in mind, Doc?" Kate asked, jumping on the playful wagon again. Anything not to have to explain her history with Nicholas and the Order, and Mirabelle.

"I'm thinking . . . torture."

Kate's eyebrows shot up. "What does that mean?"

"That means," Dillon jumped in, crossing her arms over her chest, "that Dr. Interference here doesn't know how to mind her own business."

Sara glared at the veana. "I thought you weren't going to talk." When she turned back to Kate, her expression softened. "Nicholas likes you. No, he wants you. More than he even realizes." She went over to the rack that held an arm's-length worth of dresses and grabbed a stunning red strapless bandage dress. "I think this wil do the job quite nicely."

Kate exhaled and took the dress. "I'll try it on."

"Good." Sara dropped into her chair again, gave Dillon an exaggerated wink and announced brightly, "Then we need to get the shoes. I'm thinking some four-inch crystal-studded Louboutins should do it."

To which, Dillon, true to form, rolled her eyes and cursed.