Moonshadow (Moonshadow #1)

“The gods only know why,” he whispered. “But I find you sexy as hell. So far, you’ve been nothing but trouble.”

“Ugh, stop talking,” she told him, putting the fingers of both hands over his mouth. “You ruin it when you talk. I find you sexy as hell too, as long as you stay silent.”

She felt him smile against her fingers. He bit at her forefinger lightly, then stepped back. “Get dressed. We have things to do.”

Angling out her jaw, she said, “I think I’m going to choose to get dressed now, and I don’t really care how you feel or think about that. I’m doing it because I want to, and I’ve got things I’m interested in doing today. Thanks for asking again, asshole.”

As she stomped out of the room, the dark sound of his laughter followed her. It had almost the same effect as if he had licked down her naked back. Shivering from reaction, she slammed the bathroom door and stared at herself in the aged mirror over the sink.

“One job,” she whispered to the wide-eyed woman staring back at her. “You had one job, and you blew it. Again.”

Here was a serious consideration: She found him hot, and he found her hot, as long as they didn’t talk to each other. So, what if they didn’t talk to each other? What if, instead, they turned out all the lights, stripped off their clothes, and came together?

Male and female.

How amazing would that be? She almost melted into a puddle at the thought. Her body wanted sex, just sex, lots of exuberant pleasure without any emotional entanglements.

Worst of all, her body wanted sex with Nikolas. Not just any sex, with any random person. Not sex with his companion Gawain, who was pretty buff all on his own and a good-looking guy, and also, she thought he was a nice man to boot.

No, Sophie didn’t want Gawain.

She wanted the asshole.

There might be a certain kind of freedom in that. He didn’t like her. She didn’t like him. They could have (tremendous, mind-blowing, screaming, utterly fantastic, wildly pleasurable) sex and then go their separate ways. No misunderstandings, no long-term commitment, no commitment of any kind, no friends with benefits.

Only the benefits…

How crazy and stupid was she to be considering it? She wasn’t sure. She just knew she had a talent for crazy and stupid.

Her attention caught on her hair, and she tilted her head back and forth as she considered what the puck had done to it.

He had braided several smaller braids down each side, just enough to tame her hair and keep it back off her face, while leaving the rest of it to tumble crazily down her back. It actually looked pretty nice, kind of tribal.

She decided to leave it and got on with the business of washing up and brushing her teeth. Then she slipped into the bedroom to dress in jeans, the Doc Martens, and a black scoop-neck T-shirt. She glanced at her makeup bag and laughed under her breath—like anybody cared what she looked like, least of all herself—and left it tucked in the open suitcase. Then she grabbed up her own cell phone and the heavy, old keys to the manor house and walked out.

Nikolas had finished dressing, and he had strapped the sword to his back. He stood as still as a statue, arms crossed, staring out the kitchen window at the manor house.

He had absolutely none of the affectations or sense of male fashion she had seen in many other men. None. His hair was cut short. He wore simple plain black clothes and his weapon, yet there was a simple, powerful lethal quality about him that made her weak at the knees.

He looked like he could face down an army, and he was fully prepared to do so.

As she cleared her throat, the statue came alive, and he turned to face her.

“Give me your list of things to buy for the colloidal silver,” he said. “I’ll send Gawain after them.”

She nodded. “Okay. I brought magic-sensitive silver with me, so he doesn’t need to waste time looking for that. I know it’s pretty rare and expensive here since most of the mines are in the States. You’ll need to get some, but for now we can use mine.” She thumbed the screen of her phone on. “What’s your number? I’ll text the list to you.”

He told her, and she keyed the numbers in, copied the list she had already made for him, and sent it in a text. When he received it, he studied the items. “Interesting.”

“We’re going to be building a machine,” she told him. “It’s a very simple one, but this version won’t work in an Other land because it requires batteries. There’s another system you can set up that doesn’t require batteries, and I can show you how to make that too. In the States, I could pick up everything I need at a local hardware store. I’m sure there’s a version of something like that here, but I don’t know where to look for it.”

“Not a problem.” He worked briefly on his phone then slipped it in his pocket. “Gawain will pick up everything we need. I also rang the local butcher and the grocer while you were dressing. They’re putting packages of groceries together. The orders will be ready to be picked up in a few hours.”

Not what would you like to eat, Sophie? Do you drink coffee? Are you allergic to nuts? Of course not.

He was so arrogant she was beginning to suspect he didn’t even know when he was being arrogant. Was she even going to bother to point it out, yet again? Gritting her teeth, she decided not to waste the time or the energy. If she wanted to buy herself groceries, she was by God going to go into town and buy herself some fucking groceries.

Shaking her head, she stalked out of the cottage, and she didn’t stop walking until she stood a few feet in front of the manor house.

Nikolas caught up with her and stalked along by her side. After a minute, he said between his teeth, “I took care of all your needs with a few phone calls, and you’re acting like I committed some kind of crime. What on earth is your problem now, woman? Because clearly there’s a problem.”

“I’m not talking to you. Hush, and let me think.”

He muttered something in his language. It sounded beautiful, and it probably had something to do with her being insufferable again. She curled a lip at him and turned her attention back to the house.

The day was gorgeous, a perfect hot summer day in England. Bees droned by. Lavish, untamed greenery spilled from underneath trees, barely held in check by the simple, crude mowing job that kept the wide lawn from turning into an overgrown pasture.

Soon her shirt began to stick to her back, and she almost wished she had put on a pair of shorts. She asked him, “How many gables do you see?”

He had crossed his arms again and stood with his chin tucked close to his chest. At her question, he gave the house an indifferent glance and shrugged. “Five.”

Smiling, she shook her head at him. “There’s more than five. I want to walk around the whole house.”

His attention sharpened, and he gave the house a second, more thoughtful look. “How many gables do you see?”