Jason sat in the uncomfortable conference room chair, trying not to adjust his arm too much. The limb was uncomfortable in the sling, but the more he moved it, the more it started to throb. It was an unfortunate reminder of that awful evening not so long ago, when he'd borne the brunt of Kathleen's fury at his poor planning. The marks on his throat were covered by makeup, painkillers keeping the strain and ache in his back under control, but it was still an effort to move without a twinge here and there.

He looked up as someone passed close to the doors, then blinked as they moved along. He'd only just come back to work today, only to be immediately shuffled out to a meeting with the client he was working with. Apparently they wanted him to consult on an action plan based on his most recent report. He'd been assigned one of the public relations people to assist, though he wasn't entirely sure why. He hadn't been told of his assistant until he was already on the way to the meeting and still wasn't sure who he would have to work with.

A twinge shot along his inner arm, and he frowned. Reaching with his good arm, he poured himself more coffee from the pot the firm had thoughtfully provided. Taking a deep inhale of the scent of the roast, he returned to watching the door. They were due any minute now-hopefully the PR person would arrive before them.

Roxanne blew through the office like a woman on a mission, high heels clicking on the stone tiles in the hallway as she rushed to her office to gather the files she needed for a meeting she was mere minutes away from being late for. Of all the nights for her cousin to land on her doorstep, bleeding from half a dozen wounds and needing to make use of her guest suite... Virgil could have picked a better time to have a run in with "the Adversary" as he was so fond of calling his numerous Wyrm targets.

Sighing as she doffed her jacket onto the back of her desk chair, she conceded that this was simply the way of the world. Garou couldn't really hold themselves or the "incidents" they tended to cause to a schedule. Kin had to be as flexible as possible, the better to make their shifter cousin's exceedingly short lifespans all the more livable.

She straightened her deep red blouse fussily and touched up the red stain on her lips. Making a sour face into her compact mirror, Roxanne mused irritably that her target wouldn't benefit from her attention to detail. She hadn't seen Jason all week, and what little information she'd been able to find on his absence had been vague enough to cause her some worry. The various nervous accountants she'd had to deal with during the Fang Kin's leave had proved wholly ineffective as replacements for the man professionally, which did little to help.

At least she'd had the foresight to leave the portfolio on her desk. Affairs and appearance in order, Roxanne snapped up the heavy files and exited her office. The neat click of her heels heralded her arrival in the conference room. No sooner had she breezed in and set her things on the table, and her heart jumped straight up into her throat. Apparently Mr. Allan was back, and here she was... completely unprepared to seduce him. Fortuitous and damnable.

The sling he was wearing was plain as day, and from the vaguely glassy cast to the normally sharp eyes of her intended Roxanne was willing to bet he was taking some sort of painkiller for the injury. Approaching him from the side, a glimmer of concern lit her features. "Jason, you're back. I was under the impression that I would be working with your 'understudy' again. Nice young man, he's trying very hard." She asserted, trying to keep her tone professional. She smiled softly anyhow, she was after all, happy to see him. Taking her seat next to him, she adjusted the hem of her pencil skirt briefly before continuing on. "I hope you're feeling better after whatever accident you've fallen prey to, good to have you back." She finished, setting her pale green eyes on his stormy blues.

It wouldn't do to pry further, not yet. Technically they were supposed to be working. At least Jason didn't have two jobs on the brain, presumably. It was just as well that the man's reappearance came unexpected, some things are best left unrehearsed.

The Silver Fang kinsman looked up again as his coworker made her entrance. He'd been expecting Howard Cho, one of the more senior PR associates, but Roxanne was a nice surprise. He was familiar with her-she'd been assigned a desk on his floor, presumably a full-time assignment to the bank's forensic accountants. They must have finally decided that someone was necessary to explain to CEOs and CFOs that yes, certain vice presidents would need to be fired if they wanted their company to stop losing money to internal theft, rather than punishing low level management.

Humans could be so oblivious sometimes. Jason envied the Garou their stratification. A pack alpha could expect her pack to obey her, and disobedience or 'pulling a fast one' was dealt with quickly and honestly. Garou did not tolerate treachery within their packs. Dismissing his brief reverie, the Silver Fang offered his coworker a faint smile. "Calvin does work hard, but he lacks some imagination. I find that helps quite a bit when dealing with this sort of meeting. Thank you for your concern," he replied.

Nodding towards the coffee pot, he reached for a cup, setting it down in front of her. "I seem to recall something about...black coffee, two raw sugars from the midmorning coffee run. Is that right?" He reached for the pot, unintentionally avoiding her eyes as he brought it closer. "How is your dog? You've changed the picture on your desk."

Roxanne nodded, smiling. “Yes, that's right. Thank you.” She replied. He was always astute, but in the same stride, always made her feel as though she was in charge of the situation. It was a strange turn of expectations to realise that the Silver Fang was the submissive thus far in their relationship to one another. Jason Allan certainly looked as though he played the part of dutiful kinfolk and husband well. He carried himself well, was soft spoken and he remembered little details about people. Such consideration that was not uncommon among his Tribe. She thought briefly that the man's wounded arm was likely a mark of that same Tribe. Having heard the stories circulated about his wife and what the Fang's personal proclivities had cost both she and her husband, Roxanne wondered what minuscule faux pas would have caused her to injure Jason so.

The answer would no doubt surprise her. Usually the reasons that Garou struck out against their kin were unimportant, their ferocity no measure for what mistake their family member could have made. The Shadow Lord could remember the sting of several swats that she had done little to earn, mostly as a child. Her Family had always been careful to shelter her from her father's rage, and he had normally been a model of control over his animal nature. Still, children can be clumsy, and accidents do happen. In this way, she also knew that whatever had transpired between Jason and his wife, it would probably do little to erode his loyalty to her. Kinfolk felt compelled to care for Garou, it was instinctual. They knew better than anyone else could the burden Gaia's Warriors faced, and the love and understanding they needed to survive it. Family and blood were stronger than the trails of Rage, and such incidences of violence could ofttimes do little to dilute the feelings of duty kin possessed.

“Imagination does help when... explaining this sort of thing to a client, yes.” The kinswoman agreed, pausing. “I sometimes wonder if it's best to start in the middle and work my way out whenever someone gives me a file like this to spin.”

Roxanne smiled broadly at the mention of her beloved pet. No matter how rough her day was, her bond with the animal always brought a sense of rightness to her world. The photo in question had recently been delivered via mail by his breeder, a family friend who'd shown the Doberman to his American and Canadian championship's. “Jianu's doing well. He's learned every nook and cranny of my new apartment, so he's finally settling into the idea of this as 'home'. He'd been anxious up until a few days ago, it's too bad you were out, I had him in my office all of yesterday. I expect he'd like you, you're always so calm.”

Jason smiled, tipping his head slightly to acknowledge her words. "He seems to..." he stopped as the clients began to filter in, turning that mild, pleasant smile on them rather than his coworker. Each was greeted by name, so long as he knew them. It came as a pleasant surprise that those he wasn't familiar with, his counterpart was. When everyone was seated once more, the presentation began.

At first, he spoke at length, explaining figures and sums. He was surprised when, mid-sentence, Roxanne stood, picking up where he finished. He stepped aside when it became clear she was quite capable of taking over. He watched her work, paying close attention to how she handled questions and objections. She was very smooth, managing to keep on task and on track the whole time.

He took over once more when it was time to give recommendations, a process which went much more smoothly than usual. He checked the clock as the last bulletins were passed around and further consultations confirmed, pleasantly surprised to see that they were finished half an hour ahead of schedule. He stacked the last of his papers into his briefcase, then snapped it shut. Picking it up, he moved to Roxanne's side. "So, we have some time to kill. What would you like to do?"

The Shadow Lord kin marveled briefly at the model of efficiency she and Jason had so recently proven themselves to be. She was more than aware of her own Tribe's assertion of the Fangs need of them as betas, advisors. To see the philosophy in action, and to see it work so smoothly, that was quite another thing. She smiled contentedly as the clients filed out the door, rising to her feet moments after the Silver Fang came to stand at her side.

Now this ancient and powerful pact between two of Gaia's purest progeny had granted Roxanne a greater boon than the proof of her own family's teachings. Finishing ahead of schedule meant that in addition to having an extra half an hour of free time; on a day where she had no pending appointments, the kinfolk had a much needed opportunity to fraternize with the object of her considerable machinations. In layman's terms, this meant that she could invite Jason out for a cup of coffee, and get to know him outside of an office setting. He was so dedicated to the service of his Garou family that the occasion had until now proven elusive.

Making an effortless quarter turn, Roxanne met Jason's eyes, well aware of the man's proximity to her. It would be difficult for him to avoid her gaze, not that she hoped her directness would subdue him. It was that she knew all too well that in order to initiate any relationship with the man, she would have to play up the intimacy of everyday encounters. By all accounts, Jason was smitten with Mrs. Allan. Roxanne doubted she could destroy that connection, even if the kinsman's injury had been borne out of the Garou's recklessness. Would she want to, if he loved his wife? It was perhaps too soon to decide, though the Lord suspected she might at best be hoping for a sort of bizarre symbiosis with the couple.

However attractive or beguiling she might find Jason himself, Roxanne could concede that despite the kin's handsome demeanor it was probably too soon to be examining her own feelings on the matter. Her work needed to be done, regardless of how she felt about it. Her lips parted briefly in a delicate, pensive sigh. It melted into a suitably charming smile. "There's a new bistro across the street, I could use a bit of a pick me up. This was my only appointment today, and I don't have anything to worry about until the sitter drops Jianu off. My treat." She offered seamlessly, her face well practised a mask of confidence.

Jason hummed 'Born Under a Bad Sign' as Roxanne gathered her things, that ever-present mild smile greeting her as she turned about to make her suggestion. With a single courteous nod he acknowledged it as a perfectly sensible one, stepping aside to allow her to lead the way out. "That sounds like an excellent suggestion. Please, lead the way. I'm afraid my Beverly Hills geography isn't quite up to snuff," he said, following as she walked on.

He was lost to the world for a few moments, eyes coming to rest on the back of the woman's head as they walked. There was a flutter of a nagging feeling that he should go home, not out for coffee. She could have returned while he was out at work, or left a message. She might need something, or have decided that she wanted to reconcile. Even if she'd left word...but then, she knew his cell phone number. His wife was a very deliberate person, always trying to be as clear as she possibly could. If she wanted to let him know how she was, she would tell him. If not, she would leave him be until she judged the timing was right.

Instead of Kathleen, he chose to focus on the charming young lady guiding him to the coffee shop. He vaguely regretted that he hadn't already spoken with her at length. He'd heard conflicting reports of her intelligence, though he had to admit that those who'd reported her to be shrewish and stupid often said the same of any woman who'd passed them by. In fact, the harshest had been Richard Malcolm, though Jason had already learned to dismiss Malcolms opinion of anyone. The man simply couldn't be taken seriously any longer. Dismissing that line of thought without going much deeper into it, Jason took Roxanne's elbow as they reached the corner crossing. The gentlemanly gesture was habitual and he made no apology for it. "So what are the reviews of this place like so far, or are we going in blind?" he asked.

Roxanne had little time to concern herself with how the two might look, striding across the street together. Most of the women in her profession, or relative position, would have been horrified at the possibility of being seen as weaker for their sex, and affronted by Mr. Allan's gentlemanly courtesy. The Shadow Lord kin cared surprisingly little for what her co-workers might whisper, if indeed any were even paying attention.

No, life within the Garou Nation and the pursuit of her goals within it's boundaries were always more important than associations with humankind. She'd heard similar feelings of detachment expressed by other well-bred kin, perhaps an effect of their shifting cousins standoffish attitudes towards the mortal world. With the sunshine warming her cheek and Jason at her side, even that heavy thought seemed miles away. "I wouldn't knowingly lead you astray." She assured the man, face tilting to set him with a playful smile. "I've heard more good reviews than bad, the fare is all organic, most of the coffee comes from Venezuela. The decor also looks very warm and inviting when you pass by those big front windows on a rainy day." The kinswoman finished, gesturing elegantly at the suddenly there cafe awning. La Fleura.

Printed out in thick, curvy script the sign had the many sweet trappings of similar cafes in the area. Roxanne paused at the door, and was unsurprised but charmed when Jason opened the door for her. Such was the way of his Tribe. Her thank you was barely a murmur over the din of the street, but easily recognizable from the placement of her expressive mouth.

The seating arrangements inside were lax enough in the late afternoon to be on a strictly 'First Come, First Served' basis, and in the absence of servers for the moment Roxanne scanned the coffee shop for open booths. She found one towards the back of the cafe, a tall mahogany and leather booth set against the deep burgundy painted wall. Tugging gently at the Silver Fang's arm, she indicated the discovered spot helpfully before making her towards it.

"That all sounds excellent," Jason commented to Roxanne's explanation of the place, glancing at the plates of other diners as they walked by. Every dish looked tasty, the quality of the food and the company distracting him from his myriad other concerns. He let her walk ahead, motioning for her to take her seat in the booth before he began to sit. "Honestly, I've never had a chance to eat in this area. I'm not much of a trend-follower. Boring banker."

He seated himself once she was settled, taking another long look around at the decor. He particularily appreciated the accents on the walls and the color choices they'd made. He'd been considering redoing the den since his incapacitation, and he did like these richer tones. The Silver Fang kinsman took another look at the table settings as well, pondering the shop's selections. The place really set him at ease, an unusual thing in the normally terribly false Beverly Hills.

"Now, does anything come recommended? I believe I saw a brie plate back by the door," the Silver Fang commented, turning his attention from the furnishings back to his fellow diner. "The coffee sounded quite good," he added with a touch of a smile to her. He wasn't much of a coffee drinker these days, but he'd always liked Venezuelan beans.

The dark-haired kin tucked her purse in beside herself on the booth's seat and picked up the menu, beginning to thumb through it. "You're far too mysterious to be boring, Jason." Roxanne replied, without the merest hint of sarcasm. She was well aware that the Fang kin had a persona to maintain, but didn't think it would hurt to let him know that she didn't find him dull, despite how hard he might try to be so. "But don't worry, I won't blow your cover." She finished with a delicate smile.

"Well if you're up for it, I'd really like to try the crudite plate, and I love brie, which it says here comes with roasted garlic, pate and baguette." She offered, happy to lengthen their time together with the proposition of food. Having come from a large family, where meals served to strengthen relationships and create a deeper sense of closeness among she and her relatives, she was hardly afraid of eating in front of the kinsman. Given her dubious intentions, to feel nervous about something so mundane would have seemed silly indeed.

"I think I might try one of their lattes, my tastebuds will love the caffeine, and you can never have enough calcium." She noted wryly, then turned briefly to the waiter who was just now approaching with two tall glasses of cold water, and twin sets of cutlery. Dressed in crisp black attire, he set both down on the table and inquired politely as to what the couple might like to order. Elbow coyly on the table and chin resting in her hand, Roxanne let Jason know by way of a smile and a gentle arch of her eyebrows that the decision now lay in his hands. Surely the man's breeding would take over as seamlessly as before. The Shadow Lord was counting on it.

"Thank you," Jason answered her offer of keeping his cover intact, that mild smile turning amused. If she only knew how deep that cover really went. His uncle and whatever agenda the man was pursuing aside, there were still the Raptors to consider-not all of them answered to Ostrander. He dismissed the thought, disinclined to wonder over politics while lunching with such an intruiging colleague.

The arrival of the waiter distracted him from his own contemplation of the menu. He had to admit, her suggestion stood out among the rest of the dishes the cafe offered. He accepted his glass of water, allowing the server to set his cutlery down before raising his head to meet the man's eyes. "A crudite and brie plate for two please. The lady will have a tall black walnut latte, and I will have a tall venezuelan arabica. Cream and sugar to the side, please," he ordered smoothly, taking Roxanne's menu and his own and handing both to the waiter.

When the man was gone, he turned back to his erstwhile companion, that mild smile still in place. "It seemed like the sort of drink you'd dare. If it's too dark, I would be glad to replace it," he suggested with a touch of apology. "The flavor's quite engaging, if you're familiar with it. Dark and quite complex."

Roxanne lifted her water glass to her lips and took a calculated sip. “I trust your judgement.” She replied, setting the glass back down on the table. “I've had brownies and cakes flavoured with black walnut, and since it compliments an ingredient as strong as chocolate I'm sure it will blend well with coffee.” It was the truth, the Shadow Lord had a penchant for warm earthy tones in her coffee. There was always something very comforting about them.

In short order the waiter arrived with their selections, depositing them without interrupting the couple's conversation. Roxanne reached out with vaguely chilled fingers and warmed them around her drink. Savouring the scent coming from her beverage she considered the guarded way Jason comported himself with. He may have seemed dull to the untrained eye, but Roxanne had taken training in body language that only her tribe could afford her. There were few teachers who could boast better results than her kind. She knew that though he played to boring and submissive, his breeding showed through when it was called upon, almost on an instinctual level. That was how well the Fang 'finishing schools' so rumoured by the other tribes had worked. Getting under the disguise was like peeling back the petals of an unopened flower. She didn't want to bruise or tear anything, but still yearned to see the man blossom.

The kinswoman noted the smile she'd coaxed out of the Silver Fang and decided it would be prudent to try for another one. “And don't we all enjoy the taste of something which so closely mirrors our own charms?” she mused. Dark, complex... She had to return the compliment. “I wonder what that says about your own selection? Venuzulean Arabica is low on acidity, which I can assure you that you are... Sweet and ripe with good body.” she finished, raising her vibrant green eyes to meet her target's. There was perhaps hidden in their gaze a glimmer, the shadow of a knowing look.

Jason's smile was a little more genuine when she complimented his taste in flavorings. He'd guessed that she would appreciate the drink-something about her really had always reminded him of subtlety and darkness. He gave her a slightly hesitant once-over, not entirely sure he was being as discreet as he normally was. That idea wouldn't quite go away-dark, black, shadow. The waiter interrupted that line of thought, but not before that first connection was made.

Shadow Lord.

He watched her settle herself, his own economy of movement giving the usual impression of crisp inoffensiveness. Yes, he was certain of it now-there was a certain hollowness to her cheeks, her skin was the right shade of pale, and even her eyes had that intelligent, observant look they sought. The only external indication that the pieces had just clicked together was a short bounce of his eyebrow. He avoided her gaze for a moment, well-timed as it turned out, paying attention to the coffee she felt the need to compare him to.

He couldn't help a chuckle-cough at her assertion about him, staring fixedly at the object of comparison and the sugar he was tipping into it. "Observant," he quipped, picking up the cup and having a sip to hide his grin. His eyes met hers almost by accident, an attempt to dodge dropping him right into her trap. "Hm," he couldn't help the little 'comment' his throat issued. "If you say so. What would you have ordered for me, I wonder?" The glib remark brought a touch of color to those pale cheeks, though his eyes stayed on hers as he plucked up a piece of carrot and took a small bite.

The subtleties of the moments that followed the Silver Fang kin's question were many. Roxanne held Jason captive with her gaze, caught him in her snare just as the two lifted their respective heads from the safety of their coffee cups. The man's unexpected laughter bade the Shadow Lord to press her luck. It was excuseable to let a little something slip, especially with so much to gain. If she had caught the man's subtle sign of recognition it may have stopped the thought in it's tracks, but for want of a split second she missed it as she covered a smile by sipping at her latte, a faint noise of approval murmured behind it's frothy rim.

“I pride myself on my discernment capabilities. I find the vigilance serves me well in my work.” The kinswoman answered, playfully arching one eyebrow as she set her drink back down. She wiped a benevolent bit of her drink from one corner of her mouth, licking it neatly off of her thumb without missing a beat, or letting Jason's eyes slip from her own. She was well aware that for a man who must surely be love-starved, the motion was near malicious, but a lasting impression needed to be made.

The Silver Fang's gentle blush at his own quick tongue however, did not go unnoticed. Coupled with the genuine sound of surprise Jason let slip, it drove Roxanne's pulse up a notch or two and strengthened her resolve. The telltale flutter of an adolescent crush?.... Perhaps. The thrill of the chase? Assuredly. Feeling very much ike a hunter watching a rabbit run straight into a snare, the Shadow Lord leaned in for the kill. Arching her elegant frame further into the table, as though she were about to relate some great secret, she let the words drop from her lips consisely, leaving them to vex Jason as they might on their own. “Venezuelan Arabica.”

Jason had never been seduced. Though Kathleen had her charms, the knowledge of how to enrapture a man with a look, a touch or a gesture eluded her. Thusly, the experience of a woman's attention, focused specifically on drawing him in, was entirely new. He'd been oblivious to Roxanne's previous flirtations, but there was no missing the overall message in her captivating eyes as she lapped away that drop of coffee. He stopped breathing for an overlong moment, his eyes widening, his coffee cup clacking onto the table as an unfamiliar sensation of heat coiled in his gut. The Silver Fang's fingers felt suddenly nerveless, as though all of the feeling in his body had shifted to one very specific range.

The momentary lapse could have been dismissed if she'd given him a chance, but Shadow Lords were not known for their mercy. If he'd been aware of that blood status from the start he might have had a fighting chance, but she'd caught him vulnerable, right where she wanted him. As she leaned forward, he couldn't help looking, studying her outfit and the arch of her neck without his usual clearheaded analysis of the situation. All he could see, all that he cared to know was that she was literally stunning. Coffee terminology had never been so appealing.

His mouth fell open for a moment as he struggled to regain his train of thought, but the station had been fairly completely demolished. His mind kept running back to the way the fabric of her top played around her breasts, the hug of her skirt to her backside, the scent of her drifting as a topnote over the coffee and the food. His distraction was downright adolescent.

All he could say was, "Oh."

It was hard for Roxanne to keep her expression level, to stop it from blossoming into one of absolute victory and elation. The conquests that had come before Jason had rarely been so fulfilling, they had been practical experience for the most part, while what was happening at present was no dress rehearsal. This was her main objective, and though it was exhilarating to see her careful planning prove so successful, she couldn't risk scaring the Silver Fang off. Now that he was good and startled, she would have to proceed gently. Carefully.

As Mr. Allan sat, struck silent by the Shadow Lord's assault on his libido, Roxanne gave him a split second to recover. It gave her a moment to appreciate the expression on his face, that vague, puppyish look. She knew her actions weren't fair, but life seldom was. She had the upper hand here, but in some situations he might catch her every bit as vulnerable. As she had no reason to believe that Jason would show her any mercy in such an event, she gave him little more quarter than that. She felt a sweet clarity as she watched him, and soon noted a splash of the man's drink, dribbling down from his uninjured hand. She was not surprised that he had yet to notice it.

Reaching out delicately, the green-eyed kin picked up one of the extra napkins that lay on the table. Roxanne was aware of the eyes that perused her figure, and gave them more to enjoy by tilting her head up as she leaned over the table towards Jason, exposing more of that exquisitely defined collarbone, more supple decolletage. As awful as the injury, and the circumstances under which it was acquired were, Roxanne took the opportunity to exploit Jason's lame arm to the best of her capabilities. The silence between the two of them was deafening, almost too much to bear.

“Here.” She said, more of a husky murmur than an actual word. She reached out to take Jason's hand sweetly. “Let me get that. You haven't burned yourself have you?” She asked, daubing the coffee away. Her fingers lingered only long enough to beguile the kinsman further, then strayed away, tucking the used napkin to the side of the table.

He'd always been trained to be observant and obedient, training that was working against any desire he'd had to keep himself from falling under her spell now. He wasn't so crass as to stare directly down her shirt, but he did take note of her cleavage before sweeping his eyes along her neck. Her throat was incredible, Gaia's masterwork of feminine flesh. He found his thoughts turning lewd, suggesting what it might be like to run his lips across her pulse, how she would sigh and melt when he kissed that soft place just under her jaw. It was almost torturous, and he had no one to blame but himself.

He allowed her to take his hand, noting in a very non-detached way how soft her skin was. No scars, no callous, nothing but a delicately silken touch. He shook his head when she questioned him about the burn-if it had wounded him, he couldn't be blamed for not noticing. "It's alright. It's not that hot," he said. He watched her dab away the offending stain with a napkin, distracted from the motion of her hand by the perfection of her manicure and the delicacy of her fingers.

"Thank you," he added once the napkin was set aside and her fingers had drifted off of his arm. This curious new exchange kept him befuddled a moment longer, then his eyes brightened and he pulled himself away from contemplations of the satin of her touch. The food was the perfect distraction-he prepared himself a spread of brie and pate on a piece of french bread, then took a bite. "This was an excellent choice," he said, offering another of those small but expressive smiles.

She could have imagined the ardent, needful thoughts that were flickering across the Silver Fang's mind, so plainly were they painted across his face. Virgil would have been ashamed at her for her self indulgence, but Roxanne let herself momentarily admire Jason's chiseled features while he was presumably lost in the daydream playground of her many curves. The five o'clock shadow on his face enhanced his already strong profile, the slightly loose set of his mouth belying the mental theater his was presently enjoying. If you knew what you were looking for, you could see the blood of a living King in those veins.

Having relinquished his hand she noted with some small disappointment that the veil of composure was already drifting across Mr. Allan's eyes. Women are often loathe to have their wiles so easily dismissed, but more than this, Roxanne missed the spark of passion that had lit Jason's stormy blues, making them a turbulent sea, beautiful and expressive.

Alive. That was the word for it. She didn't enjoy thinking of his professional persona as though it were a shell, that raised too many questions about her own behaviour when she was on the job. There was just something about the seemingly programmed behaviour that the Silver Fang could often exhibit that offended Roxanne on a very instinctive level. Probably because she suspected (and sometimes knew, but claiming to know something could often prove dangerous...) that there was so much better underneath his pleasant veneer.

“Well, if you think you're going to hide from me that easily, you've got another thing coming.” she mused silently to herself.

Withdrawing a stick of celery from the crudite platter, Roxanne dipped it in a sweet honey garlic dressing and took a bite. “You're welcome, I thought we might share this particular taste.” the kinswoman replied, nabbing a piece of brie and loading it up with roasted garlic and pate once she was done with her vegetable spear. Adjusting the position of her legs, she primly crossed one leg over the other, careful to brush Jason's leg briefly and gingerly with the tip of her designer shoes.

“So now that you're back at work are they making you go to that ridiculous dinner meeting with the investors? It would be convenient to have a dance partner who doesn't mash up my Choos' or lingers too near my decolletage for comfort.” She asked playfully. “Not that I would blame you for cutting out. I would if I could. At least they're apparently taking us someplace nice this time.”

No, she didn't intend to make this easy on him at all.

"The French do make exquisite indulgences in edible form," he commented, just short of the brush of her toe across his shin. His mouth shut abruptly as he mentally attempted to erect a bulwark against his reaction. Finally, the realization that she was attempting to seduce him stuck, though he immediately realised he really didn't mind. She was a beautiful woman, and it was clear now that she had been...'designed' for this endeavor. To what end, he couldn't quite figure out.

"No one's making me go, but I have the feeling I'll be marshalled as someone's beta by the time it rolls around. Better to separate myself from the pack early," he said smoothly, giving her a small smile. "I would be happy to attend with you," he added, reaching for a napkin and accidentally passing his fingertips across her wrist. Though the touch was completely unintentional, he glanced at her face, idly wondering what her reaction would be. She certainly seemed to be a very tactile person.

Regardless of her allegiance, he found her captivating. She may not have been the construction of marble-white skin, flaxen locks and gem-blue eyes he'd been raised to appreciate, but Silver Fangs and Shadow Lords had a strange sort of mutual magnetism. He'd been warned about it, as a matter of fact, though he'd never experienced it firsthand. There was something about their established roles that lent them to this attraction, one he had to admit he was beginning to be absolutely enthralled by. Her dark to his light, his blue to her green...even the colors worked.

He distracted himself from her darkness by focusing on another, the coffee in front of him. A long, slow sip seemed just the thing, the notes and layers of the drink taking his mind off of present company for a whole five seconds. Then it was immediately back to her, pondering over their possible differences and similarities. It really all depended on whether or not she noticed the rather unsubtle double entendres he'd slipped into his earlier answer-he somehow doubted, however, that she would miss.

Roxanne smiled at Jason's coy response, one eyebrow raising almost imperceptibly in amusement. She would have been insulted if he hadn't marked her as one of Grandfather Thunder's children by now, there was little way around noticing that she was as much. By comparison, the kin woman would have been less offended, more flabbergasted that the Silver Fang had only just realised that she was flirting with him. For her part she half felt that she was laying her potential affections on with a trowel. “It's a date then.” she replied smoothly, managing to keep most of the purr out of her voice.

Then came a sensation, the sleek feel of skin to skin, across one wrist. Sensitive nerve endings snaked their concerns up Roxanne's arm, all the way up to the back of her neck where they raised tiny hairs in delicious alarm. Tactile indeed. She did not blush because she had been caught unaware, not completely. When one plays at seduction, one must expect some sort of reciprocation... assuming said individual has any idea or skill at what they are doing. No, the gentle tint of rose that blossomed at the Shadow Lord's cheek was something a touch more primal. She blushed because she liked the Silver Fang, more and more every minute it seemed.

He was charming, though she somehow doubted that Jason thought so, which Roxanne had to admit she found rather endearing. His injured arm gave him a certain air of puppyish helplessness, which also did little to dissuade her from wanting to be nearer to him. A lot of things about Jason were unwittingly playing on the Shadow Lord's instincts, and she knew that if it weren't so damnably enjoyable to beguile him she might otherwise feel a little guilty for toying with him. Unluckily for him, this was not the case.

Setting down her coffee for a moment while Jason considered his own drink, Roxanne reached into her tresses and plucked out the bobby-pin that was keeping the majority of her raven locks in place and out of her face. Wavy jet strands spilled over her shoulders like a dark and rolling sea. “Je voudrais tellement une pâtisserie avec du chocolat belge avant que nous partions. Si vous avez l'heure à épargner, naturellement. Je ne serai pas le loup à votre porte si vous avez des autres engagements pour la soirée. ” She saw his insinuations, and raised him a foreign language spoken with conversational ease.

If there was a score being kept (and no doubt the Shadow Lords had some arcane method of doing so), Roxanne's carefully executed seductive moment would have earned her thrice the usual. The gloss that caught the light as her hair tumbled free of its confinement stole Jason's eye, holding him as he identified the colors. The range from umber to dark coffee captivated him, only serving to drag his gaze from the drift of her hair to her milky throat. Though he'd never had cause to define himself as a ______-man, the way his coworkers called themselves ass-men or breast-men and Lloyd referred to himself as an everything-man, he would not be above admitting that the most sensual part of any woman was her throat. There were quite a few connotations to that preference among kinfolk, not the least of which was dominance.

Among his fellow kin, there was no doubt to his claim to dominance. Those with even the slightest inkling of breeding tended to sense it immediately and those without often realised within minutes of him speaking. This was one part of Roxanne's vexing charms. She was kin, she had to recognize him for what he was yet rather than shrinking into the natural order, she rose to the occasion. In fact, she rose beyond the occasion, daring him to follow after if he was to regain the upper hand he'd become so used to claiming.

And now she was speaking French.

He was not fluent as his wife was, having learned most of the language while she tutored the young soon-to-be-king. Therefore, it took him a speechless minute to understand what she'd asked, but only a fraction of a second to raise his hand and snap his fingers to demand the attention of a waiter. He had been raised to better manners than such crassness, but that had become distantly unimportant. A belgian chocolate tart would keep them there and with her acknowledgement of his guess, he felt no great urge to rush their exit. The language lent her voice a husky touch he hadn't noticed, bringing it to the razors edge of a purr. "I have the time," he replied, keeping his verbal response short as his forward posture, raised eyebrows and slightly dilated pupils expanded on everything he wasn't saying.

“That's a most welcome revelation Jason, I would hate to be forced to indulge all by myself.” Roxanne smiled, completely unfazed by the Silver Fang's venture into uncouth behaviour. She'd certainly seen worse, and here it was no more than verbal confirmation of her own subtle talents. There was no reason to take offense. Not with dessert at hand.

As the rushed waiter set down the plate, the Shadow Lord inclined her head upwards and gave him a very becoming smile. “Thank-you.” She said in another near purr. The act was duplicitous, but not outwardly so. The kinswoman knew how to soothe with a look, a gesture, the faintest of touches, and with just as much ease could use her considerable talents to the opposite effect. She found that with the right situation, such as the one at hand, she could do both. Pitting men against one another was a slice of belgian chocolate torte, especially when one of them was such a well-bred, and therefor, instinct riddled kin. As expected the smile was returned, perhaps more eagerly than it had been given.

Returning her attention to Jason a moment later, Roxanne fussed momentarily with the locket at her throat, then picked up the dessert fork. Elegantly reaching forward and pushing the plate into the center of the table she sliced a neat bite off the end and consumed it enticingly, holding her target's intense gaze. “Dig in. I'm sure we can make short work of it.”

Younger men, his erstwhile Glass Walker friend included, couldn't properly appreciate the delicate interplay of seduction. They rushed. They pushed for more too quickly. They couldn't appreciate a slow pace. Though a slow rise of warmth was inspiring some very untoward thoughts in the Silver Fang kinsman, little of it was betrayed in his face. His eyes followed the path of the first bite of dessert from plate to mouth and then up to her own gaze, turning away only when she spoke.

"I'm certain we will," he answered, taking a measured forkful of the delectation and popping it into his mouth. It was as deliciously rich as its description had promised. The server had certainly earned a substantial additional tip for his prompt delivery of the treat. He took another bite, his gaze wandering from the food to the pendant she'd toyed with. With careful control, that look didn't stray further to her decolletage, though it wasn't an easy accomplishment.

"It's unfortunate that I have some reports to go over at the office," he said when his mouth was no longer full. "It would be a great pleasure to while away a few more hours here with you. You are quite stellar company, Roxanne." Another of those slight smiles as he waited for her to take the next bite.