9. Leith

9

LEITH

H e couldn't stop thinking about Rowan and how she tasted like his favorite Underworld berries, still warm from the heat of the day. After she'd disappeared into the depths of the store, he'd gone back to his office and stared at the walls for several hours, getting absolutely nothing done.

Even now, at the town meeting when he should pay attention to what the representative from DownHome was droning on about, he couldn't escape the delicious scent of her on his clothing or the feel of her soft hands stroking his horns.

Gritting his teeth, he discreetly adjusted his pants and forced himself to focus on the speaker. His reputation would tank if he got a boner and embarrassed himself in front of the whole town. HIs glamour was good, but Rowan saw through glamours and could crack them to fail completely. And her mischievous side wouldn't be able to resist cracking his if she realized he was sporting a raging hard-on.

By the time the question-and-answer portion of the night was done, he'd pulled himself together behind a cool, collected facade. Time to go to work.

Easing around the clumps of townsfolk who'd gathered in the Town Hall atrium to gossip and complain, Leith stepped in front of the representative DownHome sent to ease worries and con people into believing that selling to their firm would be beneficial not only for the individual but the town as a whole. Several of the bystanders shifted closer to the two of them.

"It's Tim, right?" Leith said. He held out his hand. "Leith Mamon."

"Tim DeFran," Tim said with a wide, fake smile that set Leith's teeth on edge. "Pleased to meet you, Leith."

Wearing brand new olive green technical pants, a long-sleeved shirt, and lightweight zippered vest, Tim dressed like he'd just come from a hike. Leith snorted to himself. An obvious ploy to fit in with the crowd, make them believe he was a fellow outdoorsy nature lover. One of them. No doubt, the rep was carefully selected for his benign appearance — dishwater blond hair clipped short, brown eyes, round face, fit but not too fit, and average human height. In other words, plain and easily forgettable. And, as far as Leith could tell, human and non-magical.

Except there was an odd, sharp scent hovering around him, something Leith recognized but couldn't quite place. It made the back of his neck tingle.

"What can I do for you?" Tim asked with his too-wide smile.

Handing Tim an envelope embossed with his logo, Leith returned that insincere smile with one of his own. "I'm the legal representative of one Ms. Vera Cannell and other residents of Stonyburn," he said.

True enough, though currently, he only represented Rowan's grandmother in this specific matter. But there was something about Tim with his fake hiker costume and smarmy personality that pushed Leith's buttons.

Besides, Leith was a demon. If anyone could stretch the truth, it was him. "This is a copy of the certified letter sent to DownHome Development's CEO, Seymour Myles. You and your company shall cease any and all contact with my clients, who feel harassed and threatened by your company's continuous attempts to force them to sell."

The smile dropped from Tim's face as his gaze flicked from the letter in his hand and back to Leith. "I…"

But Leith steamrolled over him, tapping the letter. "This has all my information. If you feel the need to contact my clients, don't. Any communication from DownHome needs to come directly to my office." And with that, he spun on his heel and exited the building. Damn, he loved his job, especially when he got to throw his lawyerly weight at a douchecanoe like Tim.

But that scent… the strange aura of it hung around the man. It felt familiar, but he couldn't place it or figure out why it made him want to punch Tim in the face after one brief meeting. He'd dealt with plenty of officious prats in his lifetime. What was it about this one that pushed his buttons? As the most levelheaded of all his siblings, it usually took more than a one-minute meeting to judge someone a total dick who needed to be smacked down.

In the tidy manicured gardens of the town square, Leith tilted his face up towards the night sky, the waxing moon hanging low over the mountains surrounding the town. Maybe he was on edge because of a gorgeous, mercurial redhead. Maybe there was something more to Tim and that company that bore a deeper investigation.

But the strangely familiar scent clinging to that rep bothered Leith. Come to think of it, he'd caught subtle whiffs of that scent around town the past few months. He'd just ignored it up until now.

As soon as Stan was back in the office, he'd have his assistant work his tech magic and see what he could uncover. That left him with some free time on his hands. A perfect opportunity to spend time with Rowan. He wanted to spend every possible second with her. She might even have similar feelings, if that smoking-hot kiss was anything to go by. But what if that kiss had been a fluke, something she'd done in the heat of the moment, and she didn't want anything to do with him?

He flinched at the thought. Certainly, she'd been irritated with him and his little bluff at the crossroads. Understandable. There was even the teeny-tiniest pang of guilt at his twisting of the situation to stay close to her and involved in her life. However, it was infinitesimal as compared to the satisfaction of establishing a connection to the woman who scrambled his senses and jump-started his shriveled heart.

Mate , that heart whispered.

But his more practical brain shoved his heart's reminder into a corner. Too fast , he told himself. You'll scare her away, and then you'll be alone for eternity.

Unlike some other monster species, demons had only one true mate. Certainly, there were other types of relationships, including political unions and joinings solely for the purpose of procreation. But a demon's heart belonged only to their mate.

You need to go slow. Prove yourself worthy of her trust and her love .

He'd never been pulled towards another being like he was with Rowan. She was staunchly loyal and protective, as evidenced by the lengths she went to safeguard her family and friends. She was also impulsive and didn't always consider the dangers before rushing headlong into situations. But he didn't want her to change. He liked that spark of wild insouciance. No, he wanted to be there, at her side, to support her and her choices and to act as her shield, as necessary.

But first, he needed to convince her that they were meant to be together. A challenge, for sure. Should he ask her to dinner?

Lost in thought, he didn't notice the incoming storm until too late.