*Sterling*
I order the table cleared away, send the violinist on his way, and retrieve my sketches and two snifters of brandy. I’ve never before offered brandy to a she-wolf, but Frannie Tempest takes it without objection. I imagine she drinks from time to time. After all, she works in an establishment where spirits are sold in abundance.
We sit on the small sofa. My seduction isn’t turning out exactly as I’d expected. I’d thought to have her in my arms by now, but I can’t deny that I can’t recall an evening I’ve enjoyed more.
“A lion,” I say as she studies the first sketch.
“I can see that. He appears so…regal.”
It pleases me that she sees what I’ve attempted to capture: the essence of the beast. “It’s little wonder he’s called the king of the jungle. When he roars, my Goddess. It do
