Lost Wolf (Curse of the Moon Book 1) (4 page)

I glanced around the dim restaurant. Fancy artwork decorated the walls. Everything seemed to be gold-plated. Overhead lamps lit each table illuminating the guests, all dressed in formal wear. Compared to all the other women, I was nothing special. I would fit in, but barely.

Why had Carter brought me? If he never spoke to most people at school, why stop by our barbecue and invite me? Could it have something to do with my elusive past?

Mac returned. "Your favorite table is ready for you."

We followed him, zigging and zagging around booths full of happy customers. People laughed and toasted each other. Finally, we stopped at a corner booth. Two tall candles sat on the middle of the table on either side of a champagne bottle.

Carter let go of my hand and gestured for me to sit. He sat across from me and turned to Mac. "Thank you."

Mac nodded and then rushed away.

"So, this is your favorite table?" I couldn't help wondering how often he brought guests here. Was I merely one of many?

He adjusted himself in the seat. "It's my favorite place to study."

"Study?" I exclaimed.

"It's much quieter during the day."

A server came over and placed a plate of dark bread in the middle of the table and then set three sauce cups around the basket. He poured champagne into the glasses. "Are you ready to order, Master Jag?"

Carter cleared his throat and turned to me. "Do you know what you'd like?"

I glanced around for the menus.

"Order what you'd like. No limitations here—unless you're looking for a rare delicacy from another country. You'll have to order that ahead of time."

I stared at him, unable to speak.

"Master?" asked the server, staring at Carter.

"We'll need a few minutes."

The server bowed and walked away.

"Master?" I asked.

Carter shook his head. "My dad likes things old school."

"Right, you said that."

He nodded. "If you like lobster, I recommend that. Our fishermen go to a spot that no one else knows about, and the seafood is second to none."

"You have your own—? Never mind. Lobster sounds wonderful."

"Dig in." He took a piece of bread and dipped it in garlic butter.

I took one and dipped it in a creamy sauce. It tasted like crab and melted in my mouth.

The server returned. "Have you decided, Master Jag?"

"We'll both have a lobster from today's catch."

"Would you like to kill it yourself?"

My eyes nearly popped out of my head.

Carter glanced at me. "No thank you. We'll let the chef take care of that."

"Very well." The server bowed and left again.

Three violinists and a harpist came our way and stood in the middle of the adjoining booths.

I arched a brow at Carter, who nodded toward the musicians. He appeared amused.

They set up their instruments and played a soft, romantic melody that lulled me into a trance.

After the song ended, I shook my head to clear it. I couldn't tell how much time had passed. Everyone else clapped. I blinked a few times and joined them. The musicians picked up their things and moved to a different part of the restaurant.

I turned to Carter. "This place is amazing."

He rested his chin in his palm. "It's fun to watch it through the eyes of an outsider. Especially one as lovely as you."

My face flushed, and I sipped my champagne. I wondered how far out of my element I was. Without any memories, it was hard to judge, but with or without them, it was impossible to not be impressed. It didn't feel like my normal stomping grounds.

Carter took another piece of bread. "Have you registered for your classes already?"

I nodded. "Nothing exciting this quarter other than psychology."

"Really? I have psych, too. Wonder if we have the same one."

The way things were going, it would have surprised me if we didn't. "Could be."

He pulled out his phone and slid his finger around the screen. "One o'clock with Massaro."

"Sounds familiar." I pulled out my phone and checked. "That's the one."

Carter grinned. "I'm glad you'll be there. I heard he can be a real jerk when he wants to be. What else do you have?"

I glanced over my schedule. "Intro to Statistics and World Geography."

He sipped his drink. "I aced both, so let me know if you need any help. You know where I study." He glanced around the table.

"Thanks."

"Johnson for geography? You'll like her."

I nodded. "And Foley for stats."

His face clouded over.

"Something wrong with him, too?" I asked.

Carter sat taller and his brows came together. "He's new. I wouldn't know."

I tilted my head. "Sure you haven't heard of him?"

The server arrived and placed the two lobsters in front of us. He held up a pepper grater as long as his arm. "Pepper?"

"Please," Carter said.

Once we both had our dishes seasoned, the server again left.

The grin had returned to Carter's face. "Dig in and tell me this isn't the best you've tasted."

I forced a smile. It wouldn't be hard to say that.

"Go on." He stuck a forkful into his mouth and closed his eyes. "It doesn't get any better than this."

Curious, I stabbed the largest piece and took a bite. The taste exploded in my mouth. "Oh, my."

Carter flicked a nod. "Told you. Oh, and be sure to save room for dessert."

We ate in silence as my taste buds screamed in delight. Even the side vegetables were mind-meltingly delicious. It was hard not to scarf everything down, but I kept control, making eye contact with him every so often and smiling.

As soon as the plates had been emptied, the server returned. "Would you like more, or some dessert, perhaps?"

I leaned back. "As much as I'd love some more, I hear the dessert is just as good."

"Very well. What would you like?"

"Good question." I turned to Carter. "What do you recommend?"

He chuckled. "Just about anything, but then again, I've never found a sweet that disagreed with me. Pick your favorite, and we'll have two."

My mind went blank. "I, uh, don't really have a favorite."

"Really? No favorite?"

I shrugged. "Not really."

He turned to the server. "Bring us tonight's special."

The server balanced the plates and bowed. "Coming right up." He spun around and left.

"What's the special?" I asked.

"No idea, but it'll be good. Did you like the dinner?"

"It was hard to save room for dessert."

"Yeah, once you eat at the Jag, everything else pales in comparison. I hope you won't be too full to dance." His eyes shone.

I studied his handsome face and let my gaze linger down to his muscular arms before looking back into his eyes. "I don't think that'll be a problem."

A slow smile crept across his face. "I'm so glad I ran into you at the party. You're such a breath of fresh air compared to everyone around here."

Did he mean at the club or in town? I didn't have the chance to ask, because a loud sizzling noise distracted me.

Our server was headed our way, carrying two flaming dishes.

I turned to Carter. "Is that our dessert?"

"It most certainly is."

A moment later, the two fiery plates were in front of us. Underneath the flames was an enormous slice of cake that looked like layers of sponge cake, ice cream and meringue.

"Enjoy." The server bowed and hurried away.

My eyes widened as I stared.

"Blow it out," Carter said. "If you just watch the show, your dessert will be charred."

I watched him blow his out, and I imitated him. The sweet smell arose and made my mouth water. "What is this?"

"Pure heaven." He took a bite and closed his eyes. He opened them and winked. "If you mean the name, it's called Baked Alaska. Dig in."

I grabbed my fork and scooped as much as I could. All the flavors worked together to create something I was sure I'd never tasted before.

"A rare rum gives it that kick," Carter said. "Father has it imported from a dangerous little town in Russia."

"Not Alaska?" I took another bite, letting it melt on my tongue.

"Where's the challenge in that?" He ate the last of his and pushed the empty plate to the edge of the table. "Are you going to be able to finish that?"

Half of my enormous slice remained. "I'm going to try."

Carter chuckled. "It's hard to leave any on the plate, I know. Once when I—" He sat taller and stared at something behind me.

"What is it?" I asked.

He groaned and scooted away from the booth's edge. "It's my father with some out of town guests."

"You don't want to talk to him?"

"Not if I can avoid it."

I pushed my plate toward him. "Help me finish this—I hate to see it go to waste—and then we can sneak to the dance floor."

His expression relaxed. "I like the way you think." He picked up his fork, and soon we had the plate emptied.

"Are you ready to dance?" I asked, just as eager to have his arms wrapped around me again as I was to burn off some serious calories.

Carter sat taller and glanced behind me. "He's distracted. Let's go."

"We don't have to pay?"

"Not when my last name is Jag. Come on."

I reached for Sasha's clutch and followed Carter out of the restaurant. We went down the dimmed hallway again, following the loud music. Laughter and happy screams sounded as we neared.

"Sounds like a real party in there."

"It really is." He put his arm around me and ushered me inside. The enormous room was as dark as the hall, but with multi-colored lights all around. Most of the dancers wore glowing or flashing lights and multicolored lasers danced around the ceiling. On the second floor, the DJ had a massive setup, and he wore a mask—jaguar, of course—with lit whiskers and eyes. He danced around, encouraging everyone else to move with the music.

A large bouncer stepped in front of us we walked in. He took one look at Carter and went back to his place. "Master Jag, do you need anything? Martini?"

"Just here to dance." He turned to me. "Unless you want a drink?"

I shook my head. "I'm stuffed."

"Have fun," the bouncer said. "If you need anything, just say the word."

"Can you keep my purse somewhere safe?" I asked.

"You can rest assured no one will touch it while it's with us."

I handed it to him. "Thank you."

He handed us small mesh bags with what looked like potpourri inside. I sniffed it. It smelled like catnip.

Carter held his up to his face and took a deep breath and held it in before placing the bag in his coat pocket. "Let's dance." His face lit up and he held his hand out for me.

"Okay. What am I supposed to do with this?"

He took it from me, sniffed it, and handed it back to the bouncer. Then Carter laced his fingers through mine and led me to the middle of the dance floor. He danced like a professional, moving precisely with every beat of the music.

Panic struck me. I had no idea if I could dance. What if I had no rhythm?

He motioned for me to join him.

What was the worst that could happen? I gave him my best smile and moved to the music. It felt natural and our moves matched each other perfectly.

Several around us whistled and cat-called, cheering us on. The crowd backed up, giving us room. I spun around shook my hips, laughing and having the time of my life—all three days of it that I could remember. I had years to make up for, and I suddenly resolved to do it all in that one night on the dance floor.

The cheers around us only pushed me forward. I moved in step with the beat and with Carter. We couldn't have done better if we'd spent years working on the routine.

We continued for the next several songs until a slower tune began. Carter pulled me close and I put my hands around his waist.

He stared into my eyes. "I'm having such a great time. Where did you learn to dance like that?"

I wished I knew. "Just comes naturally."

"No, seriously. I spent years in lessons."

"Maybe I did, too." I smiled, trying to be mysterious.

Over the next few songs, we glided around the floor like two professionals. I loved the feel of being in his arms. Judging by the look in his eyes, he felt the same way.

After the third slow song ended, overhead lights came on and everyone stopped dancing.

"Is it closing time?" I asked.

Carter shook his head, his eyes shining with excitement. "The DJ is taking a quick break. Then the party really starts."