Like hell she was.Shewas a vixen, a saucy little romp. Oh, he saw through her act: she was irritating him on purpose—and doing a damn good job of it. If she thought her ploy enough to ward him off, however, she had better think again. He tried to focus on his strategy. It was a bit difficult, given that he was fantasizing about throttling her. That, and kissing her mouth until it lost its mischievous curve. Inclined toward the latter option, he was just leaning toward her when a movement jerked his gaze toward the wingback chair. Had Percy's bag… moved?
What the devil… did it justbark?
"It looks like Fitzwell is awake," Percy said cheerfully. "Come on out, old boy."
A fawn-colored head poked out from the bag. After surveying the environs, the beast stepped out fully and gave its squat little body a thorough shake. Pale hair rained over the chair.
Gavin'sfavoritechair.
"With Mama away, Fitzy has been so lonely of late. I thought I'd bring him along to cheer him up. I hope you don't mind," Percy said.
"I don't mind at all." The words slipped through Gavin's clenched teeth. He had no particular fondness for small dogs—and the one currently eyeing him with a hostile, piggish stare only reinforced that fact.
The beast bared its teeth at him; Gavin nearly returned the gesture.
"He's excellent company," Percy said. "After Papa's death, Mama quite depended on—oh no, Fitzy, don't do that!"
Her admonition came too late. The beast sniffed the air; its gaze shot unerringly to the platter of appetizers. Something like a grin spread across the dark muzzle. With a speed that belied its stubby legs, the pug took a flying leap from the chair and onto the coffee table. Snorting joyfully, it buried its face in the perfectly arranged platter.
"Oh dear, I hope you weren't intending to eat that." Percy put on the most pathetic attempt at looking apologetic that he'd ever seen. The edge of her mouth was actually quivering.
The idea came to Gavin in a flash; he had to stifle his own grim smile at its devilish simplicity. Having fun at his expense, was she? Two could play at that game. She thought to use his temper against him… well, he knew a thing or two about her vulnerable areas as well.
"Since it appears the dining portion of the evening will be curtailed," he said, "I propose we move onto the next activity."
She tensed. "What sort of activity?"
"I thought you might like to see the club."
She chewed on her bottom lip, and he couldn't blame her—he wouldn't mind having a nibble at that luscious pink ledge himself. And he would… soon. "I'd like to, but I cannot risk the exposure," she said.
"You won't have to. I'll take you through the secret passageway."
"The… secret passageway?"
She almost breathed the words, her eyes rounding. He bit back a smile. Aye, he knew exactly how to entice his Persephone; hold out the right fruit, and the curious goddess could not resist taking a bite.
"'Tis my own private corridor from which I can monitor The Underworld unseen. I am due for my evening rounds about now." He let his shoulders lift and fall in a casual motion. "If you'd like, you can come along."
"Oh, I really oughtn't." When she shook her head, the turban slipped a little. A golden curl slipped free. "Um, Fitzwell. He needs me here."
A belch came from the direction of the coffee table. Having inhaled all the food, the canine hopped down to the floor. It trotted over to the settee and sniffed the turned mahogany leg.
"Do that and I'll have you stuffed and mounted," Gavin said sharply.
Apparently, the beast was smarter than it looked; with a grunt, it abandoned the furniture and went to flop in front of the fire.
Gavin turned back to Percy. "You did mention that you are an aspiring novelist?"
"Yes. No." A crease appeared between her curving brows. "That is, it was a hobby of mine at one time, but I've given it up."
"Perhaps a tour of a bona fide gaming hell might inspire you to pick up the pen again. But it is up to you." He shrugged. "If you'd rather wait here and spend time with your pet …"
They both looked at the animal lying comatose on the hearth. At present, Fitzwell's company was about as interesting as watching ink dry on parchment. After a minute, Percy said, "I think Fitzy will be fine for a few minutes on his own. Won't you, little chap?"
The pug rolled onto its back and emitted a snore.
Firelight danced in Percy's eyes. "Off to the secret corridor, then?" she said.
