‘If you believe that then you’re far more of a fool than I realised.’
She grinned. ‘There’s nothing foolish about optimism.’
He sniffed. ‘I beg to differ. And there’s no wayAlexanderis an optimist.’
‘If he weren’t an optimist, he wouldn’t have asked for my help in the first place. This is going to be a great night!’
This time Boris only stared at her.
The perhaps-less-than-optimistic manin question was already in front of the Tweed Hall, his head bowed in conversation with a female druid whose swirling blue facial tattoos indicated she was highly placed within her community. Of course, not every guest attending the Imbolc party was a druid, and only one of the three women whom Mallory had selected was of druid origins.Unfortunately, the woman who was smiling at Alexander wasn’t one of them.
Mallory waved off Boris and strolled up to them. She was still twenty feet away when Alexander’s head jerked upwards and his nostrils flared as he scented her approach. She raised a hand, still feeling positive about the party. He was here, he was dressed to the nines in a sharp suit and he was making conversation with a woman. This was, Mallory decided, a very good start.
He smiled at her as she drew close and his already handsome face turned into a devastatingly attractive one. Mallory tightened her toes. ‘Hello!’ she exclaimed. ‘You look fabulous!’
‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘You look wonderful too, Mallory. That dress suits you.’
‘It’s a bit tight,’ she confided. ‘Boris kept telling me off for wiggling.’
Something flared in his amber eyes. ‘If you want to wiggle, sweetheart, you wiggle.’
‘Maybe later you can wiggle on the dancefloor,’ the druid said. She smiled in greeting. ‘I’m Alorine. Thank you for attending our little soirée. I hear you’re responsible for dragging Mr MacTire here. It’s a boon for us to have a werewolf of his standing in attendance.’
‘It’s a boon for me to attend,’ Alexander said without missing a beat.
Mallory nodded approvingly. That was suave; more of that, and this evening would be a great success. ‘Thank you for opening your doors to the likes of us.’
‘Imbolc is an important time of year, a time of renewal and celebration.’ Alorine held out a basket. ‘Take a crocus flower. Not only is it a symbol of spring, it also represents love.’
Mallory couldn’t help emitting a trill of delight. ‘Absolutely perfect!’ She reached into the basket and plucked out twoflowers, tucking one behind her ear and handing the other to Alexander. ‘You’ll want this,’ she said.
His fingers brushed against hers as he took the small purple crocus. He eyed it dubiously and pinched it between his thumb and forefinger. Mallory beamed. ‘Put it in your buttonhole. It’ll look great.’
Alorine nodded. ‘It will. Enjoy your evening. Do come find me if you need anything.’ She moved away, leaving Alexander still awkwardly holding the flower.
‘Here.’ He thrust it at Mallory. ‘You do it. I’m too clumsy.’
‘I’m sure you’re perfectly capable of doing it yourself.’
He arched an eyebrow. ‘Are you afraid to get too close to me?’
‘Don’t be silly,’ she chided. She took the crocus and leaned towards his broad chest, fumbling until she found his buttonhole and threaded the stem through it.
‘I think it’s squint,’ he said.
Mallory fiddled with it some more, her heels wobbling slightly on the uneven cobblestones. Alexander’s hands reached for her waist. ‘Steady,’ he murmured. ‘I’ve got you.’
She suddenly became very aware of him. His hands seemed to burn through the fabric of her tight dress and sear the skin beneath. He smelled of cinnamon and spice. She coughed awkwardly and stepped back, using the excuse of admiring the flower to compose herself. ‘There,’ she said. ‘Now you’ll blend right in.’
Alexander gazed at her. ‘Just what I always wanted, to blend in and be like everyone else.’
She thumped him lightly on his arm. ‘Don’t be snarky.’
‘Don’t be violent.’
Mallory rolled her eyes. ‘Yeah, yeah.’ She gestured towards the door. ‘Let’s go inside, get a drink and then we can talk game plan.’
He bowed. ‘As you command, my lady.’
