His hands fisted. He wanted to protest. He couldn’t. His friend was right.

He nodded stiffly. “Send for me if any problems arise.”

“Of course.”

He forced himself to walk away.

Despite Elin’s threat to poor tippers, the bar was packed again tonight. The cacophony of voices quickly grated against his already frayed nerves, the female ones vying for his attention the worst of all.

“Thane! I heard you were hot, but, oh, baby, you’re smoking.”

“Sweet, it’s Thane. Hey, Thane, look at me. Look at what I can do. I’m very bendy.”

“Thane! Thane! I have five words for you. I’ll. Let. You. Do. Anything.”

If he walked away from this night without committing murder, he would consider it a win.

Thane stopped at Adrian’s side. The berserker was on high alert as he watched the night’s activities from his usual corner.

“I need the corner room.” As he spoke, he searched the crowd for Elin.

She stood at a table of warlocks, her profile to him. Luscious little human. Her hair was twisted into a knot at the crown of her head, and she had flour on her cheeks. But her uniform looked smaller than before, and that wasn’t okay.

Surely she was cold.

“She needs a robe,” he told the berserker.

“I’ll make sure she gets one.”

She held up a cake as lopsided as the last one, doing her best to tempt the males to taste.

One of the warlocks was more interested in her body. He smoothed a hand over her backside.

Thane was halfway across the room, ready to push over the table and tear the warlock to shreds, before he realized what he was doing and reluctantly backtracked. If Elin wanted the warlock’s attention, she could have it.

She better not want his attention.

He watched as she slapped the male’s hand away and wagged her finger in his face. The warlock pouted, but didn’t try anything further.

Thane forced himself to relax. “Has anyone bought one of her desserts?”

“Yes,” Adrian replied. “And they’ve all demanded refunds, plus a little something extra for damages.”

Not surprising. “Buy whatever she has left and put it on my table.” If it would make her smile, he would eat every bite. And so would his troops. “For the rest of the night, she’s to serve me, and only me.”

The warrior blinked in amazement, but offered no commentary.

“Oh,” Thane added, almost as an afterthought. Almost. “Remove the young warlock’s hand.”

“But, sir—”

“This isn’t a debate. Are you becoming too soft, Ad? We both know he’ll grow another one.”

Adrian nodded. “And what do I cite as his crime?”

Thane thought for a moment. “He touched what’s mine.”

* * *

ELIN STEPPED INTO the secluded room located in the far corner of the bar, trying not to project her nervousness. Hiding her origins from Thane, Bjorn, Xerxes and all the patrons of the bar was one thing. Trying to hide her origins from a roomful of trained killers was quite another.

Sooner or later I’m going to be found out.

Her gaze sought Thane of its own accord. Strong, beautiful Thane, with the irresistible dimples. So badly she wanted to believe he wouldn’t care about her mixed heritage, that he would protect her, whatever happened. And maybe that wasn’t as vain a hope as she feared. The guy had sent her several boxes of chocolates. Who did that? A sweet, romantic man, that was who.

Of course, he’d pretended she didn’t exist ever since, so...

Best behavior, Vale. No one will know. You’ve got this. She focused on his majorly hawt friends. And, wow. Just wow. No wonder Bellorie had practically foamed at the mouth with jealousy.

For a moment, Elin could only gawk.

There was a big—huge...huger even than Adrian, if huger was even a word—Viking with long dark hair and a thick black beard drawn together in the center by three little beads.

There was a set of twins, with a clear Asian heritage. One rocked out with a green Mohawk, tats and piercings, but the other was all business, with slicked-back hair and a clean-shaven jaw.

Then there was Voted Most Beautiful Man Ever to Live—if he hadn’t been, he totally should be...and only if the sexy chocolate peddler known as Thane was taken out of the running. He had black hair and piercing blue eyes.

Had she found a better candidate than the love-’em-and-leave-’em Merrick?

“Nice fire-creepers you’ve got on your lawn,” Most Beautiful said to Thane.

Fire-creepers. A derogatory name for Phoenix. Along with flame-whore, hellmongrel, and grave-challenged. She had no love for the race and took no offense.

Thane gave a stiff nod before scooping a slice of her most recent confection onto several different plates. Would he like it? Or hate it?

Reviews had come in throughout the evening.

I’ve eaten tastier dirt.

My compliments to the chef. I didn’t think anything was worse than my mother-in-law’s dung-beetles casserole.

He would hate it.

Gah! Frustration threatened to overtake her, but she resisted it. Soon she would hit her groove, and everyone would eat their words—along with her desserts! She just had to keep at it.

The female sitting next to Thane smiled with cold delight before handing him a stack of papers. She had curly jet-black hair, dark flawless skin, and eyes of the most startling ocher. “The list is completed.”

The list? What list? All the ways she wanted to make love with Thane?

Elin experienced a sudden urge to go alley cat on the girl. There would be hissing, biting and clawing.

Real mature, Vale.

“We’ll devise a plan of attack after the drinks arrive,” Thane replied.

My cue. “Uh, hey, everyone. I’m here to serve, so let’s hear those orders.”

His gaze finally met hers, desperately intent, and she shivered. For a moment, the rest of the world blurred. Hate when this happens...because I love it so much. She became hyperaware of her boss, could see his chest rising and falling with his breaths, could feel the heat radiating from him.

Her body responded instinctively. Her breasts began to ache, and her belly quivered. Her lungs constricted, and wave after wave of drugging warmth spilled through her veins, pooling between her legs. The air thinned, charging with excitement and anticipation.

Thane stood, his stance aggressive, his jaw clenched. He was pure testosterone and...need? As if he battled the urge to drag her away by the hair.