“No.” She hooked one nude stiletto heel on the bar’s foot rail and set elegant hands on the carved wooden lip of the bar top. No rings, which he found surprising. She was the sort of prime choice female that didn’t remain on the market long.

Raze canted his body toward her. High-class, he thought, noting the Rolex on her wrist and the hefty diamond studs shooting multi-hued fire from her earlobes. In a quick survey, he registered slim gray dress slacks, a sleeveless black silk top, and dark as ink curls piled high and balanced on a long, slender neck.

An image of her came to his mind… sprawled naked and prone across a red velvet bedspread, her graceful spine arching as he slid his parted lips along its curve. Decadent. That’s what she was, and decadence was what she needed from the man she took to her bed. A long, slow, deep seduction. He didn’t have that patience in him tonight. He’d had blood dripping from every inch of his skin just twenty-four hours ago and he had a cold knot in his gut that ached.

Lifting his glass, he wet his lips, absently noting the building heat in his blood. Not his type, but he wanted her. “ I’m not what youwant. Not tonight.”

She reached for his glass and he gave it up. Blood was the only thing he could ingest, but he’d learned to tolerate a drop or two of red wine.

Her dark green eyes stared into his over the lip of the glass. She swallowed and made his dick hard. “Shiraz.”

“Well done,” he murmured, his eyes following the perfect arches of her brows and the sculptured beauty of her cheekbones. With a slow and deep breath, Raze realized every other female in the room had faded into insignificance.