Obsidian Eyes (37 page)

He pulled back and their eyes met again. She reached up, placed her hand on the side of his face and tipped her head. She leaned in and kissed him, so gently at first, her lips a whisper against his. Jared’s left hand snaked out, spanned the bare flesh of the small of her back and pulled her close to him, hard against his chest. His fingers caressed her spine. His lips were firm and his tongue insistent as he probed against her teeth.

When she parted them, he could taste the whisky in her mouth. The knuckles of his right hand gripped the rail of the bar, turning white with pressure as he tried to keep himself from overwhelming her. He used the feel of the cold metal to distract part of his mind, when every instinct and hormone in his body commanded him to grab her tight and crush her mouth with his hunger.

The buzz running over his limbs grew and then a bolt of electricity shot through his body, the raw intensity stealing his breath.

Allie gasped in his arms. Jared drew back, his pulse racing and a frown on his face. “Did you feel that too?”

“Yes. What was it?” She searched his gaze for an answer.

“An added bonus,” he murmured.
Thanks to the Stone of Coulags.

She took a deep breath and her midnight gaze rose to meet his. Her heart pounded against his bare torso in unison with his, as he drew a shuddering lungful of air. Over her shoulder, Duncan watched them from the dance floor.

“You are very drunk,” he said as he brought himself under control.

“Yes, m’lord, I most certainly am. Very, very drunk,” she replied with a smile as she reached up to kiss him again but he placed a fingertip on her lips, stopping her.

“I think we should have this conversation tomorrow, when you’re not drunk and you know what you’re doing.”

“I wasn’t planning on talking,” she said with a mischievous grin. “I thought I would live a little. Besides, isn’t this what we both want?” Her dark brows drew together in a frown.

“Not like this.” He looked into her dark eyes, a black velvet night with no stars, glistening like the obsidian of her knife blade. He groaned at what he turned down for the sake of honour. He had wanted this for so long and now she served herself up on a platter for him to devour. He wanted to fall on her like a starving man at a banquet. He toyed with picking her up and carrying her to an unoccupied alcove. Laying her on the deep cushions within he would use his lips and tongue to explore every inch of silken skin her outfit revealed. His resolve to be honourable waned.

He tried a different tack. “We need to get you home, to bed.”

“You McLaren boys move fast don’t you?” Even drunk she was still determined to bait and tempt him.

She turned and Jared wrapped his arms around her, keeping her against him. He longed to maintain contact with her skin. He dropped his face to her neck and inhaled her rich, spiced vanilla scent.

“Duncan,” she cried when he returned to the bar. “Your cousin is determined to ruin my fun for the evening, what do we say to that?”

Duncan produced two shot glasses from behind his back and offered one to Allie with an extended hand. “Bottoms up?” He gave a grin that matched hers.

“Exactly.” She took the glass and downed the drink before smacking the glass down on the bar. Jared released his grip on her, when Duncan tugged on her free hand.

“Let me whisk you away before he tells us both its bed time.” Duncan spun her out to the dance floor.

“Great,” Jared muttered, pouring himself a tall glass of water from the pitcher on the bar. “Now I’ve got to get two of them home intact.”

On returning to the house, Duncan whirled Allie around the entranceway while singing a very bawdy tune.

“There will be some sore heads at breakfast,” Jared said as he watched them.

Hearing the ruckus, Eloise appeared at the top of the stairs, wearing a long dressing gown over her white nightgown. Weasel nestled close to her leg and draped himself in the pink velvet of her robe.

“Oh, good, you’re awake,” Jared said. She descended the stairs with a bemused look on her face. Weasel stayed put, surveying the raucous scene without becoming involved. “Allie will definitely need a hand getting to bed. And plenty of water.”

“She’s drunk?” Eloise looked at her friend in horror. “You were supposed to be on a serious mission, not out drinking.”

“Drunk like a skunk!” Duncan piped in, before handing Allie off to Eloise, who took her friend’s arm before she could escape.

Eloise shook her head at Duncan and Jared. “I think we will have words in the morning.” She turned and ushered Allie up the stairs to their rooms.

Jared gave Duncan a push in the same direction. “You need to head to bed as well.” He watched Duncan navigate the stairs, each foot taking two attempts to find the tread before he headed to his room.

He lay in bed unable to sleep. It wasn’t thinking of the mission that kept him awake, or the thought of using his best friend as bait, but the kiss with Allie. He could still feel her pressed against him and her warm skin under his hands. The smell of her lingered in his nostrils and the taste of her in his mouth. He played the moment over and over in his mind, until exhaustion swept him away to sleep.

Wednesday, 28
^th
September.

ate the next morning, Allie descended the stairs to the dining room. Zeb returned from the military base so he could join them for breakfast. His armed escort cooled their heels out in the garden and stables courtyard, waiting to deliver him back to headquarters as soon as the meal concluded.

She found Zeb reading the morning paper, blindly reaching out a hand for his cup of tea from behind the newspaper. He never saw the affection with which Eloise poured and placed it in the exact spot for his grasping him. She thought they presented such a lovely picture of domestic harmony.

All they need are grotesque half alive mechanical pets sitting at their feet.

“Good morning.”

Eloise started but on seeing Allie’s pallor, she immediately reached for the water jug. Pouring a tall glass, Eloise handed it to her friend as she dropped onto a chair. Jared dished up his breakfast, keeping his back to Allie.

For some reason, the light in the dining room seemed unnaturally bright and pounded its way through her skull. Allie took the offered drink and put the cool glass of water to her forehead. For a moment, the dull headache retreated.

Duncan bounced into the room with all the energy of a Labrador who knows he is about to go for walkies.

“How dare you look so enthusiastic,” Allie muttered. “In fact, how the heck can you be so bouncy after last night?”

“Bigger mass,” he said, tapping his chest. “I think you tried to match me drink for drink for about, oh, five minutes.” He laughed. “Did nobody ever tell you not to get into a whisky drinking competition with a Scotsman?”

“Somebody seems to have failed to pass on that vital piece of information. I guess I’ll have to stick to beating you with a blade instead.” She poked her tongue out at him and went back to nursing her glass of water.

“I can’t believe you two got Allie drunk.” Eloise fumed. “It’s not exactly gentlemanly behaviour.”

“I don’t recollect anyone holding her down,” Duncan retorted, heading to the buffet. “In fact I seem to remember her being a willing participant.”

Allie rolled her eyes at Eloise. “Don’t worry Eloise, last night is a lesson I’m not keen to repeat. And I take full blame for my actions, I just can’t exactly remember what all of them were. I recollect the count plied me with vodka and then a fog descends.”

Duncan chuckled as he grabbed the largest plate he could find and started heaping it with haggis, eggs, bacon, and black pudding.

“How many girls did you dance with last night anyway?” Allie took another sip of water. “I dimly seem to recollect a whirl of colours and skirts around you, and I think there were even feathers involved at some stage.”

“Lots.” He beamed. “Unlike somebody else, who only had eyes for one girl last night.” He threw a glance at Jared, who finished dishing up his breakfast. Jared swung his head around and fixed his cousin with a cold gaze, halting Duncan’s hand mid reach for the toast.

Allie moved the water so the glass cooled another part of her forehead.

The two boys returned to the table and seated themselves either side of Zeb. Duncan’s plate was piled high, Jared’s more restrained, but both contained far more food than Allie cared to see. The mere sight of the eggs and haggis made her stomach do strange flip-flops.

Any further conversation halted as Matisse entered the room with a steaming mug which he placed in front of Allie.

She inhaled the rich aroma swirling off the cup. “Matisse, you are a saviour angel emerging from the mist of my misery.” She put down the water and cupped her hands around the rich, dark Turkish coffee. “How on earth did you know?”

“Lady Eloise mentioned you spent some time in Egypt. Given the late hour and
rowdiness
,” he managed to convey quite a lot of meaning into that one word, “of your return last night, I thought a coffee might be in order this morning. Might I suggest, Miss, you also keep up the water consumption?”

“Thank you.” Allie took a sip of the hot sweet beverage.

Matisse bowed and retreated from the room.

“You’ve got until this afternoon to lose the hangover.” Jared tucked into his breakfast.

Eloise buttered a piece of toast and handed it to Allie, who stared at the bread before taking it and biting off a corner. She had the vague uneasy sensation something important happened with Jared the previous evening but she struggled to put her finger on it. Or more accurately, it was hidden under the veil of her hangover. She decided to keep quiet, drink her coffee and wait for the enveloping fog to lift.

After a brief breakfast, she headed back upstairs, nursing a jug of water and planning on a few more hours of rest, leaving the boys to make their plans.