chapter Thirteen
Sorcha felt quite certain she would explode into flames at any minute. He was still glaring at her chest. He’d even licked his lips as he’d done so. She’d called his name, and it had barely grabbed his attention.
“I don’t know why you women dress to show off your assets and then get upset when we look at them,” Alec muttered beneath his breath but loudly enough that she could make out the words. That meant he wanted her to hear them.
“We women dress ta flatter ourselves. No’ ta invite yer gaze.” She tugged at her bodice. “And it’s no’ too low. I’m quite properly covered.”
“I beg to differ.” His curt reply was tempered by his roguish grin.
She narrowed her gaze at him in warning.
“We should go back inside before Eynsford or one of his pack starts a search for you,” Alec said as he offered her his arm.
“Since ye have already ogled my bosoms, I’d like ta ask for a boon,” she said quickly. It came out all in one breath.
Then she wanted to hide her face in her hands. But she did want him to kiss her again. She doubted she’d ever get tired of his kisses, not if she lived to be a million years old.
“Recompense for my lack of manners?” Alec looked affronted. But then he shrugged. “If you plan to ask me to help you win one of those mutts, the answer is no.”
What a wonderful idea. Why hadn’t she thought of it herself? He seemed to lose all rational behavior when Lycans were involved. She could certainly use that to her advantage, couldn’t she? “I’d do no such thing,” she lightly protested.
“Uh-huh,” he challenged, nodding his head in agreement.
“Of course you wouldn’t.” He inhaled deeply and then let the breath out. It was an action reminiscent of his old life, a habit that was hard to break. “What’s this boon you’d like to collect in exchange for my ogling?”
What was the best way to go about this? Someone more adept at flirting would know just what to say. “Do ye find me pretty, Alec?”
“Good God, Sorcha,” he moaned. “Fishing for compliments now, are you?”
“Never mind,” she clipped out and moved to brush past him. She’d made a blasted fool out of herself with that misstep. But she’d never needed to flirt or use a man’s jealous nature to her advantage before. Perhaps she could talk Cait into giving her lessons.
Alec grabbed her arm as she tried to escape back into the ballroom. “Sorch,” he said, attempting to placate her.
“Don’t go.” No, stay here and continue to make a fool of yourself, the amusement in his eyes seemed to say.
“Name one good reason why I should stay,” she countered.
“Very well, I’ll answer you,” he ground out. Then he groaned, as though doing so was painful.
She straightened her shoulders and prepared for the worst. She had started this exchange, after all. She would have to take whatever he said in the spirit in which it was intended. And if it was truly awful, she’d run back to her room and cry her eyes out for the rest of the night.
“You’d like for me to be completely honest, correct?”
Havers! Must he drag this out? “No, I want ye ta lie ta me, Alec.” She rolled her eyes dramatically.
He chuckled. It was a warm sound. Very much like the old Alec, before he’d been reborn. Before his low laughter could come to a stop, he moved quickly, his arm snaking around her waist and drawing her close to him. Sorcha pressed her palms against his chest in an effort to steady herself. He was so hard beneath her fingertips. This was exactly where she’d wanted to be all night. Perhaps she hadn’t made such a terrible blunder after all. She should ask him on a regular basis if he thought she was pretty.
“Stop doing that,” he warned quickly.
“Doin’ what?” She tilted her head back to look into his face.
“Touching me,” he clipped out.
“I believe it was ye who grabbed me. No’ the other way around.”
“True,” he conceded with a good-natured shrug. “But that doesn’t give you license to explore my person.”
“I need a license ta touch ye? Somehow I doubt that.” Her fingertips flexed against him again. Then she moved to disentangle herself from his arms. He didn’t budge. Didn’t let her go.
“Don’t do that,” he said, his voice soft and hard at the same time.
“Now what am I doin’ wrong?” she sighed.
“You’re wiggling. Stop it. I want to talk to you.” With his free hand, he tipped her chin up, forcing her to meet his dark gaze. “You are not pretty at all,” he said slowly.
At once her heart ached and the sting of tears formed behind her lashes. She’d thought she could take whatever he had to say, but… “You’re bloody beautiful,” he added before she could respond.
“I beg yer pardon?” He didn’t make any sense at all.
Hadn’t he just said she wasn’t pretty? He’d pulled her into his arms yet complained when she’d touched him. What a confusing man.
“You’re so beautiful that you’re nearly painful to the eyes, Sorch,” he continued. “When you walk into a room, it lights up.”
“Really?” She blinked back her unshed tears.
“Long ago, I thought the room lit up when you walked into it because of who you are.” He let his fingertip drag across the expanse of her chest. “In here.”
“In my breasts?” she queried. Then immediately wanted to bite the words back. What a ridiculous thing to say.
“There too,” he chuckled. “But really, it was what was in your heart for me back then. That was what made you beautiful. Your open and giving heart.”
“And now, my heart’s not beautiful anymore?”
“I’m certain it is, but I’m so busy looking at the rest of you that I miss the heart completely.”
His hold had gentled while they stood there, but Sorcha made no move to extricate herself from his grasp.
“And ‘pretty’ doesn’t begin to describe you,” he continued.
She couldn’t help but smile. “So, I can safely assume that men find me ta be attractive?”
He snuffled, a harsh sound from his nose. “That’s safe to say. I’m not the only one who has been trying to look down your dress.”
“Ye were tryin’ ta look down my dress?” She shook her head. “I thought ye were just glancin’ at them.”
“I was trying to look down your dress. Never doubt it. I might do it again later.”
“Promises, promises,” she murmured.
He laughed again. “Don’t tempt me, minx,” he warned.
Things were going better than she’d hoped, but he hadn’t tried to kiss her yet. What to do about that? “So, ye think I’m pretty.” She held up her hand when he went to contradict her. “Pretty enough,” she corrected.
“Pretty enough for what?” he countered.
To care whether or not she set her cap for someone else? To drive him a bit mad at the idea? “Ta catch a Lycan. Is that no’ what we were discussin’?”
“There’s not a chance in hell that I’m going to let you hunt or catch a Lycan,” he informed her. “Over my dead body.”
She opened her mouth to once again comment about his dead body, but he was already speaking again.
“And I’d have to be dead again before I’d allow it. We don’t die easily, just so you know.”
“But Elspeth and Cait both have Lycans of their very own. And I’ve always wanted one.”
A muscle twitched in his jaw, and she wanted more than anything to smooth it with her fingers. “Those men are not puppies you can bring home, let sleep in your bed, and train. They’re much more than that.”
“Are they?” she asked, her eyes moving from his jaw to his lips.
“Indeed. And I will not see you get hurt by one of them. I’d have to kill him. Then Eynsford would try to kill me. It’d be a bloody mess. Cait would be angry at me forever.”
Of course, all of this had to do with Cait. As far as Alec was concerned, everything always went back to Cait. She’d been foolish to have thought otherwise. All she’d wanted was a kiss and she’d ended up with a broken heart instead.
“Will ye ever be over her?”
She didn’t expect an answer and berated herself for even asking. Alec didn’t say a word. He just looked down at her, his black eyes fathomless.
“She loves her husband.”
“I’m aware of that.” His tone was brusque. But he didn’t set her away from him.
“But ye’re still pinin’ for her.”
“Right now, the only person on my mind is you,” he admitted, though he avoided her gaze when he said it.
“Because I’m a nuisance. I understand. Ye probably hate havin’ me underfoot.”
His hand slid down over her hip. The other one joined his exploration, smoothing her dress over her other side.
“I’ve had you in my arms for a few minutes. And you haven’t even tried to get away.”
“Why would I do that?”
“Because I’m dangerous.”
She giggled at the very idea.
“Because you are much too good for the likes of me.” For some reason, that comment felt like it had been wrenched from his soul, and Sorcha’s smile disappeared. He couldn’t really believe that, could he?
“Ye are good, Alec.” She patted his chest lightly. “In here.”
“The only place I’m good is…” He suddenly stopped.
“Never mind.”
“What were ye goin’ ta say?”
“Nothing.”
How could he say “nothing”? Not knowing would torture her. She shoved against his chest. “Ye shouldna start comments ye’re no’ goin’ ta finish. It’s ill-mannered.”
“So is sinking my teeth into the skin of others to drink from their life force. Yet I do it to survive.”
“The only place ye’re good is…?” she prompted.
He leaned down close to her ear. “The only place I’m good, Sorcha, is…” He let his voice trail off as his breath tickled the shell of her ear. “In the bedchamber,” he finally concluded.
The hair on Sorcha’s arms stood up, and her belly dropped to her toes.
“I’ve shocked you.” He laughed, his dark eyes twinkling with mirth. “It’s about time.” He let her hips go and stepped back from her.
Madness made Sorcha follow him and press her length along his. She reached her hand around his neck and tugged his head down so she could speak quietly in his ear. “Prove it,” she whispered.
When her breath blew across the shell of his ear, Alec’s teeth descended and she felt a hard bulge against her belly. Then she turned and quit the terrace as quickly as she could. She hadn’t gotten her kiss, but she most definitely had gotten his attention.
~*~
Alec’s fingers shook, almost desperate to pull her back to him, but he managed to remain rooted to the spot and let her escape back into the ballroom. Prove it! Damn it to hell, he’d hear those softly muttered words in his sleep. He’d hear them every waking moment for the remainder of his unnatural life. He was more dangerous to her than those bloody Lycans.
“Whispering sweet nothings?” Bexley’s voice from the shadows brought Alec back to the present.
He spun in his spot to find a self-satisfied grin on the earl’s face. Faster than a blink, Alec pushed Bexley farther into the shadows. A look of horror flashed in the man’s eyes.
“I-I,” the Englishman stuttered.
Alec focused on the man’s pupils. “You saw nothing.”
Bexley stopped struggling, and his breathing returned to normal. “Nothing,” he repeated quietly, in a voice that didn’t even sound like his.
“You have no recollection of Miss Ferguson meeting me in the orangery this afternoon.”
“No recollection.”
“In fact, you hold Miss Ferguson in the highest regard and find her character to be exemplary.”
“Exemplary.”
“You will keep your distance from Miss Ferguson in the future.”
“Yes, keep my distance.”
Alec released his hold on Bexley’s jacket and took several steps away from the man, moving back into the light from the ballroom. He leaned against the balustrade and stared out into the darkened Kent countryside.
“MacQuarrie?” Bexley sounded confused.
“Aye?” Alec glanced over his shoulder at the earl.
“Do you know why I’m outside?”
Alec frowned and shook his head. “No idea.”
“Hmm,” Bexley looked toward the ballroom. “Must’ve needed fresh air. A bit stuffy in there tonight.”
“Indeed,” Alec agreed.
“Suppose I needed a distraction.”
Alec raised his brow in question.
Bexley shrugged as though the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. “Had a long conversation with my grandfather this morning. Dreadful business being an heir.”
Alec didn’t doubt the truth of that. Of the men he knew, the most troubled were those with titles. “Sorry to hear it.”
“Me too.” The earl leaned his elbows against the balustrade as well and sighed. “Hard to think of anything else. You haven’t got a remedy for distraction, have you?”
Was that what he’d been doing? Focusing on Sorcha to distract himself from whatever he’d discussed with his grandfather? Well, he’d just have to find something else to occupy his mind. Alec shook his head. “You seemed to enjoy yourself in the village last night,” he suggested.
A small smile appeared on Bexley’s face. “Brilliant idea. Perhaps I’ll make another trip this evening. You up for another jaunt into Folkestone?”
It wouldn’t matter where Alec spent his evening; he’d never get Sorcha’s tempting words out of his mind.
“Perhaps,” he replied noncommittally.
Inside the ballroom, the musicians stopped playing and the room fell silent.
“Grandmother must have called everyone for dinner.”
Bexley sighed.
And Alec was supposed to escort a very enchanting witch. How would he ever manage to sit beside Sorcha and behave himself?