She stopped pacing.“I should be apologizing for something else entirely.”She pulled a small, round, amber glass bottle from a skirt pocket.“The whisky was laced with love elixir.And you ingested it.”
He laughed.What else was he supposed to do?That’s why he’d thought her shoulders lovely, then.And her lips and bosom.She’d love-drugged him.To make a fool of him or worse.“Was I your target?Were you planning to tease the king’s lapdog?”
“N-no.”Her brow furrowed as she slipped the bottle back into her pocket.“King’s lapdog?”She shook her head.“You must leave.Now.”
He picked up the decanter, twisted it in the firelight so the crystal and amber caught the light.“Love potions are… well they aren’t illegal, but without a man’s consent, you’ll catch the attention of those good at putting nooses about necks.”
“I’m aware.”She was also desperate, that much clear.
“But is he aware?Your paramour.That’s the question.”He raised his brows.“The man you’re waiting to drug.”
She ran to the closed door and threw herself across it like a barricade, and he couldn’t stop the chuckle rumbling in his chest from escaping.Funny little thing.Useless little barricade.
“You cannot leave,” she said, “until you promise not to tell.”
“Little mouse”—he prowled toward her—“I don’t care what you toffs get up to with your glamours and your potions, with your rotting houses and your empty coffers.”He stopped, his toes several inches from hers, and leaned in so close he could smell her.So close his lips almost brushed the delicate whorl of her ear partially hidden behind carefully placed curls.Champagne and rose and the tang of something metal.There at her neck, sloping toward her small bosom, expertly framed by a low bodice, hung the thin wire of a necklace.Copper wires twined together with blue beads and set so they could not be manipulated by alchemy.He traced the length of it around her neck, felt the buzz of the copper, knew the setting would keep him from doing a damn thing with it.“What are they?The beads?”
“Lapis lazuli.Coral is in fashion, but I—” She cursed, her breath soft and warm near his cheek.“You cannot be near me.Not with the elixir in you.”
“Likely not.I had no idea how potent the stuff was.I ingested so little, yet I’m tilted off center entirely.”If he dipped his thumb away from the wire and lapis sitting warm against her skin, he could discover the hot crevice of her cleavage.He should be enraged she’d drugged him.He could manage only a chuckle, every other bit of his attention settled on the lithe outline of her body in the dark.He’d been looking for a wife.
It could be… a wife had found him.
“Who are you?”she breathed, the words catching in her throat, struggling to make it into the air.
“A shiny new baron.What do you think?Do I make a good one?”
“You make an indecent one.Curse the elixir.”
He had her caged, leaning into her, one forearm braced against the door next to her head.“It’s an interesting concoction.”His lips next to her ear again, his thumb now tracing up the length of her neck.God but her skin was soft.
“New baron… new baron!”Her body jolted into awareness, and she pushed him away, peering up into his face.“AreyouMr.Grant?”
“Lord Knightly now, but between you and I, I prefer Mr.Grant to the more esteemed title.”He bowed, hands bereft and cold without soft skin to smooth them across.“At your service.”Any service, apparently.He should be upset about that.Wasn’t.Damn strong elixir.“And who are you?”
“I’ve read about you!In the newspapers.And the gossip columns.Your name is everywhere.You’re a hero!”
He grunted.Wasn’t a hero, but no one listened when he said that.“I need answers, little potions mistress.Who are you?”
“You’re agenius.You invented the summoning stones.”Her eyes glowed.“How useful.”
“Supposed to be.”The summoning stone he’d recently presented to the king had been invented to serve a purpose, to do some good.He’d imagined communicating a dire need—news of fires or deaths or invasion—from hundreds of miles away.But now it was hiding in the king’s velvet pocket and used to summon servants to do his bidding.
“I’m sure you understand the implications.You did invent it.It’s incredible.My interests lie much more in the past than in the future, but I must admit your discoveries lend the future an… excitement I’ve never felt for it before.”
If she was trying to seduce him, she was doing a bang-up job of it.No love potion necessary.
“Who are you?”he asked, stepping closer,needingto be closer.
She rounded him and sat in a chair near the potioned whisky decanter and folded her hands in her lap.“You should leave now.Not only because the elixir is working on you, but…” Her gaze wandered toward the decanter then toward the door.
“You’re expecting someone, of course.”Someonecouldn’t reach her if Temple locked the door.Found some raw iron somewhere in the room and twisted it to his purpose to nail the damn door shut.
Hades’ hellfire.A few drops of potion had ruined him.He propped a shoulder against the door.Her scent still clung to the air around him.Champagne, rose, and copper.He shook his head.“Love elixirs are gimmicks.Glorified aphrodisiacs.I feel a… spike in physical attraction.That’s all.Not more than I can handle.I’m not going to maul you.And you still haven’t told me who you are.”
Laughter sounded in the hallway at his back.
She perked up like a hunted faun hearing a footstep in the forest.“You must leave.That could be him.”She ran to the curtain she’d appeared out of and disappeared once more.
