David spared her hardly a glance. “Then you should at least come up with something clever.” He set his cup down. “You know, so you don’t embarrass yourself.”
“You’re the embarrassment,” she said. “You can’t even throw a punch.”
His mouth curved into a subtle smile. “And you can’t throw an insult.”
She scowled. “You’re wasting everyone’s time. If you don’t want to be here, then leave.”
David glanced around, scandalized. “And miss all this? What would you do without me?”
Anna looked as if she wanted to pour the jug of water over his head. “I’d be fine. You’reuselessto me.”
His head cocked, and while his empty expression gave nothing away, Sean sensed a lurking thread of annoyance.
“Yeah,” David said. “I’m aware.”
Sean and Cathaire exchanged a loaded stare. What the fuck was happening between them?
A musical voice interrupted the argument. “My Cathaire!”
They turned at Leyla’s approach. Blue flowers spiraled through her braided hair, and a white dress flowed around her bare feet.
“Ah, Leyla!” Anna launched herself into Leyla’s arms. “Where have you been?”
“You are the busy one, not I,” Leyla replied with a laugh.
Anna released the pixie and smiled as Leyla brushed fingers over her bare neck. “I see you still wear no necklace. What have I told you, Anna? Pixie women of an age wear a crystal. You are long past your twentieth year. Tribe eternal!”
At Leyla’s neck hung a star-bright crystal fashioned in the shape of a dagger. Within, a pale light glowed. Sean gazed at the light, transfixed. He’d never noticed it before, never seen a gem like it.
Anna pressed a hand to her naked throat. “I’m not full pixie though?—”
Leyla and Cathaire both cut her off by Signing,Stop.
“If you won’t see to it, I’ll do it myself,” Leyla said.
Anna’s cheeks reddened, and Cathaire chuckled, his gaze soft on Leyla, who drew slowly closer to him.
“Have you finished?” she asked.
“Yes.” Cathaire eyed the three of them. “This trio can finish their argumentswithout me.”
Leyla laughed. “Arguments, hmm? What did I miss?”
“Anna won’t stop flirting with me,” David said without looking at any of them. “We’re all embarrassed for her.”
Sky-blue eyes latched onto him, attempting to pierce deep, but he leaned casually against the water table, blank faced, awaiting her comeback.
Sean turned away from the carnage. None of it was his business. Instead, he watched Leyla pause more than an arm’s length from Cathaire and stare into his eyes.
No greeting kiss. No hug. Not even a handshake.
Regardless, the connection between them was palpable.
The Pixie Effect, as Sean had learned, was a peculiar phenomenon. Apparently a single touch from a lover could set off a chain reaction of pleasure—not something to be experienced in public.
Sean’s gaze fell to his hands, snagging on the scar on his index finger where a chain-link fence slashed the skin open when he was eight. Scraped knuckles. Roadmaps of veins. He couldn’t imagine the simple brush of this hand waking that kind of sensation in someone.
Besides, Isobel wasn’t a pixie, so it didn’t matter.
