"We don't need a cab," I tell Dorian as we step outside in the hotel's driveway a half hour later, taking him by the hand and drawing him into the sidewalk foot traffic. "Just someplace a little private."
"Fat chance in this city, kitten." With his long legs, he keeps pace easily, looking around at our towering surroundings with his nostrils flaring and his wolf scenting active. "We've got a better chance of finding a needle in a haystack than an intimate corner here. Although—."
Pulling me against him and out of the pedestrian flow, he scents harder.
"What is it? And please don't tell me food."
Chuckling, Dorian nuzzles my neck, nipping a non-verbal reprimand with his teeth, then shakes his head. "There is food, but what I smell is a grass. And water. A park. Nearby. Want to check it out?"
"Sounds like a viable option."
