“Pass.” I smiled politely. “But thanks.”
I looked between Lochlainn and Pogue—both standing so stiff you’d think someone shoved broomsticks up their backsides.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to intrude,” I said a bit too sweetly.
Truthfully, I didn’t give a damn about whatever drama they were knee deep in.
I rocked on my feet. “Just wanted to collect on our deal—hoping to get some research done today.”
Lochlainn threw back the amber liquid in one fluidmotion. Then slid his tongue over his bottom lip, not breaking eye contact.
“Delicious.” His voice lowered. His eyes dropped, trailing down.
Then, a deep, reverberating chuckle rose.
“Ripped open by one of the most feared Ancients—an inch away from death.” His head shook incredulously. “And yet here ya are, standing in front of me a week later.Unscathed.” Lochlainn’s mouth tilted up. “And still looking ravishing as ever, I might add.”
Of course he’d find this amusing. Him seeing me was probably equivalent to locating his lost gold watch—bummer to lose, but more valuable to have.
I hadn’t heard a peep from him since the attack—except the delivery he’d sent the following day. A small wooden box with a folded note on top that read:
Thinking of you.
Wear it.
-Loch
Inside was a simple, elegant lace choker. Although I really loved it, the gesture felt wildly impersonal. Like saying,sorry you almost died under my watch. Here’s something shiny!
My eyesight must’ve improved this week—because it was getting way too easy to see through bullshit.
“And you’re still kissing my ass, I see,” I quipped.
“Oh no, love. That already happened. Across the hall in the kitchen, on the countertops, if I recall correctly.” A wicked grin appeared, right before he tapped a finger to his chin. “Ah, yes—and then later, on the sofa.” He pointed directly to the spot where Finley now sat.
Heat crept into my cheeks—half embarrassed, half furiously annoyed.
Bastard.
I tried, momentarily, to smother the incoming flashback. Regret knotted my core as I glanced toward Finley. I hoped he didn’t think any less of me.
Flaming grenades spewed from my eyes as I stared at Lochlainn.
Finley stiffened, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, agitation straining his face. Lochlainn seemed pleased, smugly flashing him a provoking smile.
For fuck’s sake!Although one of his men, Finley was still his cousin—hisfamily. I wondered if Lochlainn knew how he felt about me. Because if he did, that made him far more cruel than I had originally thought.
But likely he was just trying to bait me. This was what he did—who he was. He got off on being an asshat. A sneaky trickster who always played games, lining up all the pieces to benefit himself most in the end.
I wasn’t going to fall for it.
I drew in my breath, consciously remembering to keep my cool. He was a dick, and I wanted those archives?—
Suddenly, glass shattered. Whiskey and shards sparkled like amber fireworks as they scattered over the polished floor.
Pogue was still propped against the fireplace. Only now, his arm was outstretched, hand open.
“Oops . . .” A chill crept into his tone, face unemotional. “How clumsy of me. Always a shame to break something of highvalue.”
