“Indeed,” he murmured. When he moved forward, she nearly jumped out of her skin, but he simply reached behind her and pulled the door to her bedchamber shut.
Then backed her against it.
“Hey,” she snapped.
“I sought but to give you a good morrow kiss, lass. ’Tis a Scots custom.”
She craned her neck, scowling up at him, and gave him a look that said Yeah, right, nice try.
“A wee one. No tongue. I promise,” he said, his lips curving faintly.
“You never give up, do you?”
“I never will, sweet. Doona you know that by now?”
Oooh, that was beginning to take on shades of her dream. And he’d called her “sweet,” a little endearment. She clamped her mouth shut and shook her head.
He lifted his hand to her face and lightly traced his fingers down the curve of her cheek. A soft touch, nothing overtly seductive about it. The gentleness of it startled her, stilled her. He moved his hand from her face to her soft curls, threading them through his fingers.
“Have I told you, Chloe-lass, that you’re beautiful?” he said softly.
She narrowed her eyes. If he thought a generic compliment would buy him a kiss, he was sadly mistaken.
“Och, aye, lovely as can be.” He smudged her cheek with the back of his knuckles. “And without a trace of artifice. I sat in my cab and stared at you the day I first saw you. I watched other men looking at you and wished them blind. You bent back into the car to say something to your driver. You were wearing a black skirt and jacket with a sweater the color of heather, and your hair was falling into your eyes and you kept pushing it back. It was misting a bit, and the hose on your legs glistened with droplets of rain. You didn’t mind the rain, though. For a moment, you tipped your head back, turning your face up to it. It took my breath away.”
The caustic comment coiled on the tip of her tongue died.
He looked at her a long moment, then dropped his hands.
“Come, lass.” He offered her his hand. “Let’s fetch some breakfast, then I’d like to take you somewhere.”
Chloe struggled for composure. The man had a way of throwing her off-kilter like no one else she’d ever known. Just when she thought she knew him, he threw something unexpected at her. Where had that just come from? He remembered exactly what she’d been wearing the day they’d met, and it had been misting that morning. And she had briefly turned her face up into the mist; she’d always liked rain. She cleared her throat. “So when do I get to see the texts?” she hastily forced the conversation to less uncertain terrain.
“Soon. Very soon.”
Other men were watching you and I wished them blind. She shook her head, trying to scatter his words from her mind. Unable to determine what “face value” to place upon them. “Does your brother have other artifacts too?” she pressed brightly.
“Aye. You’ll see many things before the day is through.”
“Really? Like what?”
He smiled faintly at her eagerness and caught her hands in his. “Do you know how I know when you’re excited about something?”
Chloe shook her head.
“Your fingers start to curl, as if you’re imagining touching whatever it is you’re thinking about.”
She blushed. She hadn’t known she was so transparent.
“Och, lass, ’tis charming. Do you recall that I said I could show you a Scotland no other man ever could?”
She nodded.
“Well, this afternoon, lass,” he said with a strangely wry note in his voice, “I’ll be making good on that promise.”
Some distance from the castle in which Chloe and Dageus were currently breakfasting, a man leaned back against the side of a nondescript rental car, talking quietly on the phone.
“I haven’t had the opportunity to get close,” Trevor was telling Simon. “But it’s only a matter of time.”
“You were supposed to take care of her before they left London,” Simon’s voice was faint on the cell phone, yet still rang with implacable authority.
“I couldn’t get near her. The man is constantly on guard.”
“What makes you think you can get close on Keltar ground?”
“He’ll drop his guard eventually, if only for a few minutes. Just give me a few more days.”
“It’s too risky.”
“It’s too risky not to. He has an emotional bond with her. We need his ties gone. You said so yourself, Simon.”
“Forty-eight hours. Ring me every six. Then I want you out of there. I’m not willing to run the risk that one of our Order is taken alive. He must know nothing about the Prophecy.”