There was no denying it, and Rhiannon didn’t need magic to see it, to feel it. She knew the exact taste of Prudence’s power, its feel against her own skin. She didn’t need to unleash her own to know she had met her match.
Of all the gin joints…
Her mate had always been on Dragons. And it didn’t matter at all because Rhiannon Crowhart would not be staying. And Prudence? Well, Prudence had her entire life on the island. And above all, Rhiannon knew that Prudence would not beleaving the craft behind, even if she did follow Rhiannon to the mainland and beyond.
Having had a woman give up her life once before and end up resenting everything Rhiannon was… She shook her head and slammed the car door. She was getting ahead of herself and she was being foolish. She let Ceridwen and the craft all get in her head again. Mate? Maybe, but it didn’t matter. Rhiannon wouldn’t be staying on Dragons. Everyone was well aware of that.
“I’d say penny for your thoughts, but a beautiful woman’s musings surely are worth much more than that, and I am not entirely certain my pride will remain intact if I am to indeed pay the price of admittance into your head.”
Rhiannon had to smile. She bit her lip to hide the gesture and turned to face a pair of openly appraising, dark amber eyes. Paloma Allende in all her mysterious, authoritative glory was a sight to see.
Rhiannon would guess she was around Ceridwen’s age, though perhaps a bit older with excellent skill for makeup and amazing genes. She was beautiful and she looked in charge. Rhiannon imagined it was a deadly combination for the men and women who crossed paths with her.
Though probably, judging by the greeting, the men were not in any danger. Or at least not in this brand of danger, as the eyes looked deeply into hers and twinkled with amusement and daring.
“Ms. Allende, it’s a pleasure to see you again.”
The owner of the Astronomy Resort was a few inches shorter than Rhiannon, but her exquisite Jimmy Choos hid that masterfully. Rhiannon gave the gorgeous footwear a nod of approval even as her interlocutor eyed her Louboutin ankle boots. Then they caught each other staring and laughed.
“I want to say the pleasure is all mine, but I know my credit card will be getting a workout tonight when I go upstairs to my rooms and order myself a few pairs of these fabulous boots, Ms. Crowhart!”
Rhiannon chuckled and the host took her under the arm, the gesture surprising her in its swiftness and directness.
It also answered a question she had been harboring since she met Paloma Allende a few weeks ago at the town hall. For all the worldliness, for all the authority she exuded, the mistress of the Viridescent did not possess the gift. Rhiannon’s skin remained cool in the evening breeze. As if to demonstrate contrast, she caught a glimpse of light, almost silvery-blonde hair in the distance, and her heart stuttered in her chest. Rhiannon sighed and forced herself to focus on the beauty on her arm.
“I saw you arrive with the daughter of my opponent, and I have to confess, I am intrigued about a Crowhart and a Fowler together like this.”
Rhiannon lifted an eyebrow as she gave the woman a sideways glance.
“I take it you listen to the town’s gossip?”
Paloma’s smirk was razor sharp.
“I don’t have to read the Caw to know that you are together, Ms. Crowhart. And by the looks of it, you had an argument on the way here. You’re vexed and she’s concerned and yet you have eyes only for each other. It’s sweet. And curious.”
Seeing the obvious, well-laid trap, Rhiannon chose to sidestep it.
“I think you might as well call me Rhiannon, given that we seem to be sharing intimacies.”
Paloma’s smirk morphed into a wide smile, and she nodded.
“Ah, but we aren’t sharing. Mostly because I never do, and I assume you aren’t the type to either. And it would hurt thatblonde naïf of yours anyway. I tend not to hurt people, unless they deserve it.”
Rhiannon narrowed her eyes, not in malice—the woman on her arm was too direct to inspire that—but in respect, for the aforementioned directness and at the gall of the game being played afoot, without her participating. But all she said was, “Go on,” and braced herself.
Paloma slowed her steps even more, making sure her words were for Rhiannon’s ears only as they approached the busy reception area of the resort, bustling with the town’s merchants and all sorts of other invitees.
“Oh, I just meant to say how interesting it is that a Crowhart with a penchant for saving and preserving priceless antiques is dating a Fowler, whose father had been trying to purchase or, bar that, confiscate an old, historically significant building for years. One that said Crowhart currently inhabits.”
Rhiannon stopped, her fingers suddenly numb. Paloma turned around, shielding her from the crowd.
“And before you say something foolish like ‘we aren’t dating,’ you sure are doing a lot of fucking for women who aren’t dating, my dear.” Paloma’s voice was low, suggestive. “And while I have dabbled in sleeping with the enemy on occasion, I don’t recommend it.”
Her heartstrings, already raw and abraded, twanged, the guitar pick Paloma had chosen clearly wrong for this particular moment when Rhiannon was already on the very edge. Though, was there really a right moment when she had felt that edge ever since she stepped onto the island in August?
“She isn’t an enemy.”
Paloma’s smile was all faint cordiality.
