Kat looked back. She could hide herself, but she couldn’t hide the water falling off the sweater. The wet clothes stuck, cold and heavy. She stood there fuming. Think. How to get inside, through the party, unnoticed?
Kat kicked the cord for the lights out of the socket. She might be invisible but the clothes wouldn’t be. Kat yanked the heavy sweater overhead and dropped it in a mound on the wooden floor. She rolled the clingy wet jeans down her thighs, kicking them under the bench. She ditched shoes and wet socks. She looked down at her body in hot pink, cotton bikini underwear and black bra. “They aren’t even the right day of the week.” The word “Wednesday” scrolled across the front of her panties, a gag gift from Lisa on her last made-up birthday. The wet black bra clung to her breasts. Her nipples stood out.
Kat huffed quietly as she squeezed the water out of her ponytail. She bent to dig the knotted bandana out of the mess that was her sweater. I’ll run in, put the necklace on his bed, and run out. That’s it. Quick, in and out. She tried to muster the courage to enter the overflowing, brightly lit house in nothing but her underwear.
“On three, then.” She took a deep breath. “One, two…” The word three was drowned out by a sharp slap of thunder that made Kat jump. She dashed across and slipped inside. Her previous puddle had been wiped up, and she noticed happily that she no longer leaked rainwater.
Laughter, some sort of mellow Celtic music, and tinkling glasses sounded from the front of the house. Even invisible Kat decided to stay away from people. It was intimidating enough being there, but being there in her underwear was ridiculously uncomfortable.
Kat smiled and shook her head. If she didn’t laugh about this predicament, then she’d pass out. And once she passed out, she’d probably be revealed. Either that or she’d just lie there invisible with people tripping over her.
Kat took several long, deep breaths in an attempt to get the tingly, numb feeling to leave her chin and hands. Some jewel thief she was turning out to be. She couldn’t even return an artifact without hyperventilating.
Kat’s gaze snapped around the room. Back staircase, isn’t there always a back staircase? But she didn’t see any. She stuck her head out the door and peeked down the hall. Kat caught her breath. There was Lisa. She stood next to Toren MacCallum. Her friend laughed up at him, though he continued to scrutinize the crowd.
Sweet Mother Mary, he was magnificent. He wore another expensive suit that fit perfectly over his broad shoulders, definitely custom-made. He nodded and answered questions, but his gaze continued to roam. Roger walked up and bowed his head to Lisa. The banker barely reached Toren MacCallum’s chin. A group of servers entered the kitchen, sending Kat skittering into the hallway. The grand split staircase stood empty right across from her, across the filled ballroom.
Kat glanced down to make certain her feet were not leaving wet prints. “All clear,” she breathed softly. She would just run up there, invisible. Kat made certain the necklace was not touching her. She glanced at a mirror over a telephone table along the hall. No reflection. Okay, time to move.
Kat pranced on her toes as quickly as she could down the hall and into the ballroom. She stepped lightly between the milling attendees. Light, like a butterfly. Kat imagined being one of the butterflies that always hovered near. One woman laughed and backed up. Kat dodged and turned, arms overhead to slip between two others. It was as if she were dancing amongst the glittery people, under the sparkling chandeliers. Dancing in soaked, clinging, Wednesday underwear.
Once she reached the staircase, she moved to the side away from the few people standing on the lower level. The carpet felt warm under freezing feet, and she dug toes into the plush weave.
Maybe Toren MacCallum would have a dry T-shirt in his room that she could borrow. It would probably smell like him. The thought warmed her, and she continued to leap up the many steps.
Kat reached the top landing and glanced back over one shoulder. Her hand clutched at the banister to keep her from log rolling back down the stairs, right into Toren MacCallum.
Kat shot up the hallway. Her head snapped back and forth as she tried to figure out where to run. Toren reached the top of the stairs and turned. The doors on the long corridor were shut and she couldn’t open them or else he’d see the door open on its own. She tiptoed down the hall as quietly and as quickly as she could. If he hadn’t glanced at his watch and adjusted his tie, Kat would have sworn the man could see her and was following.
One door stood open toward the end, a bathroom. Kat slipped into it, standing in the dark corner against the ornate wallpaper. Please go into another room, please don’t come in here, Kat screamed in her head.
But the giant Scotsman walked right into the bathroom. He shut the door behind him and flicked on the light.
No escape. Kat shrank back into the corner. Should she turn around to give him some privacy? Kat didn’t dare move for fear he’d hear her rub against the wall.
Toren’s hand deftly unbuttoned his pants. Kat closed her eyes as he pulled himself out and proceeded to pee. He lowered the lid and flushed, went to the sink and slowly washed his hands.
But once again the ornery man didn’t obey her silent pleading. He stood before the mirror.
His words made her jump.
“I guess the lass isn’t coming tonight.” He huffed a little sigh and spoke to his reflection. “I thought her intentions were good, but with her absence I guess she’s just a thief. I’ll have to expose her tonight.” He fixed his tie. “I only hope Lisa and the orphans will survive this,” he murmured and opened the door.
Shock paralyzed Kat where she stood in the corner of the bathroom.
Toren’s feet thudded softly away down the hall.
She swallowed hard past the wretched acid of pre-vomit in her throat. “Sweet Jesus, he’s going to tell them I’m a thief.” Kat felt the racing panic of her heart. They’d take away her children.
Kat’s feet flew. She ran back down the hallway to where Toren stood, speaking from the landing.
“May I have yer attention, my good ladies and gentlemen,” he said raising his hands. “I have an announcement to make this evening.”
Kat stood listening. What to do? She still held the wrapped necklace. If she could just give it back to him.
“Tonight ye all came to this dinner to benefit a very worthy cause, Sister Mary’s Home for Children.” The people below clapped politely. “The children and I thank ye.” More applause. “But I have an announcement to make this evening, and I hope that it won’t hurt this worthy organization.”
Sweet Mother of Jesus, he was going to tell them! The son of a sea-biscuit was going to expose her!
“There was an incident on Saturday,” he started.
“Sure was,” Roger called out from below and muted laughter filtered up into the domed ceiling.
Kat looked to her left where a round mirror stood framed above a bowl full of roses. With a quick change of the magic flowing around, she reappeared in a gold sparkly cocktail dress. She imagined her wet, curling mass of hair into a tight French twist and her makeup perfect.
Kat walked up next to Toren and placed her hand on his arm. When he looked down at her there was no surprise in his eyes, only a glint of humor.
She pushed the bandana into his hand. “Please.” She shook her head. “Here is the necklace. Let me explain.” She glanced out at the multitude. “Privately.”
“And here is the lass herself, Kat,” he said and the people clapped again, waiting expectantly for his announcement.
Was she too late?
“Please,” Kat breathed quietly. “It’s in there, don’t…”
“Kat has a degree in medieval and renaissance history. She has agreed to help research artifacts like the one that was misplaced on Saturday.”
Lisa looked bewildered where she stood below.
“Doona ye fash yerself, Ms. Gibson,” Toren said. “It will not take too much time away from the children.”
Lisa smiled and
nodded, but her eyes sent daggers at Kat.
Kat knew she’d get a lecture about keeping secrets when they got home.
“Was the necklace found?” one of the ladies below asked, causing murmurs to sound like the rumble of thunder outside.
Toren opened the makeshift bag and pulled out the necklace. He held it up and everyone applauded. “It is a beautiful piece, but it looks even more beautiful against the skin of a woman.” He stepped behind Kat at the top of the grand staircase.
“No, I couldn’t wear it.” Kat shrank back. The necklace would counteract her magic. She’d be standing in her underwear before two hundred socialites.
“Of course ye can,” Toren countered. His breath hovered at her ear, causing ripples of awareness to run down her entire body.
She tried to protest again.
“Hush now, lass, it will look lovely against yer softness.” His fingers moved along her naked neck. He placed the heavy necklace against her skin.
Kat closed her eyes, humiliation flushing her.
Instead of the gasps she expected, or even stunned silence or screams, more polite applause sounded. Kat opened her eyes. Several people meandered toward the bar to refresh their drinks, while a few chatted with the person next to them. One woman even yawned.
Lisa smiled and raised her glass in salute.
A bell sounded from the dining hall.
Toren raised his hand. “It seems dessert is being served. Please help yerselves.”
The crowd moved toward the dining area. The necklace hadn’t revealed her? But hadn’t it the other day? Thunder boomed outside the mansion and the lights flickered off, then on again.
In the brief darkness, Toren’s warm, solid hand wrapped around her own. In mute confusion over everything, she let him turn her to him. “Ye look lovely tonight,” he said. His look grazed down her length. “I am Toren MacCallum, but ye already knew that.”
Kat swallowed and nodded. She’d had only a brief encounter with him yesterday, and he’d smelled wonderful then. But now, the combination of masculine warmth and a fresh-showered pine smell underlined with the hint of expensive whiskey flooded her senses. It was as if all the nerve endings in her nether regions sparked alive. Pheromones? Kat wondered, as thunder once again vibrated through the house. She shook his hand. “I am Kat, simply Kat, sort of like Cher, or Prince,” she babbled a bit nervously. He just stared blankly. “Thank you,” she said. “For not…”
“I need an assistant,” he said briskly. “A research assistant.” He touched the necklace at her throat. “I will pay ye well.”
“I couldn’t, I mean I have other…”
“I’ll pay ye enough that ye doona need to steal from me again.” The eyes that met hers were hard, unreadable, undeniable.
Her voice remained low, but she stared back. “I don’t steal things for me.” She glanced down at her feet that looked like they were in Jimmy Choo pumps. “It’s for the children. Like Robin Hood.” His look was blank. “You know, Robin Hood, Sherwood Forest.”
“I ken the name Hude. A thief long ago.”
He wasn’t helping at all.
Anger flared, giving her more strength. “I can explain,” she said, exasperation lacing her tone.
“Aye, explain. Explain how ye stole my most prized treasure in broad daylight, in front of fifty people and two guards, and I was the only one to see ye do it. Ye can start by explaining that.”
Suddenly the hand that was holding her own became a manacle. The towering ceiling felt like it began to descend, and all the nervous energy Kat had pushed down released within her. If she didn’t hold on to her anger, fear would flood her. “I...can’t.”
His face moved closer. “Ye can.” There was curiosity written in the strong planes of his face, curiosity mixed with determination born out of some other emotion. Could it be pain? “And ye will,” he whispered, his focus dropping to her lips. He was only a breath away from her when the lights flickered out again.
In the darkness, his other hand came up behind her back, pulling her into him. She stepped close and felt his lips brush against hers. Blackness enveloped them there at the top of the stairs. Somewhere in the background, Kat heard the faint exclamations from the dining room where the guests nibbled.
She felt Toren’s hand run gently across her right cheek and she concentrated on not turning her face away. The scars didn’t hurt, but she worried that someone might feel them through her magic. Toren didn’t seem to notice anything unusual as he ran his hand along her skin, caressing, exploring. His lips found hers again, capturing her breath in a fierce onslaught of pleasure as he plundered her mouth. The kiss consumed Kat, engulfed her in his smell, his feel, his hunger. Her hands moved up to his hair as she returned the kiss, her own tamped-down passions breaking free.
Years of worry, years of loneliness poured out of her as she surrendered it all to the storm building between them. His arms enfolded her into his tall, hard length. Safe, it felt safe, even though she should be pushing away or slapping him or something inane like that.
His heart beat under the palm that she’d placed on his chest, strong, rhythmic. Toren ran his mouth across the scars to her ear, then down her neck. Kat’s legs wobbled. Heat flowed down into her most intimate places until she felt damp with anticipation. The feel of his hot body against her nearly naked skin heightened every sensation.
Lightning and thunder cracked at the same time, filling the empty ballroom with sporadic light. It was hard to hear him above the noise, but he moved his lips near her ear. He ran his tongue along its ridge. She hadn’t bothered with earrings, but her image should have them on. In the back of her mind Kat realized that detail should alarm her, but Kat’s body was past alarm into full-out flames.
He leaned away and Kat opened her eyes. Lightning flashed its jagged illumination around the domed hallway where they stood. His face was intense but the gentle rise of one corner of his mouth softened the lines enough for Kat to draw in a breath.
“Tell me first.” His thick burr rolled through her burning body, and she had to remind herself to take another breath. Would he ask again how she’d stolen the necklace? What would she say? Instead, his next words caused the floor to drop out from under her. “Who is Wednesday? And why are ye wearing her undergarments?”
Chapter 3
Her soft skin chilled to granite beneath his hand. As lightning lit her lovely face, huge eyes stared back, frozen. Her small hand went to her right cheek.
Regret flooded him. What the hell was wrong with him? He’d given it all away, the secret that he should keep from the enemy. But this lovely lass was not the enemy. She wasn’t the witch who’d stolen his life away. Kat had magic, but she’d just been drawn to the dragonfly for its uniqueness and expense. He could have let her leave. So why hadn’t he? Instead he’d made her a research assistant, whatever that meant. What would he do with her? Have her research black magic in an attempt to find the one who’d trapped him?
Toren stared at her statue-like features. He grinned slightly. “Ye have nerve, so don’t pass out now, lass. Ye walked through a ballroom and stood before two hundred finely dressed aristocrats with only yer undergarments on. Ye didn’t faint away then so don’t faint now.” The lights flicked back on, blinding Toren for a second. He blinked.
The light sparked Kat to move, fast. She yanked her hand from his chest and raced down the steps, her barely concealed breasts dancing up and down with each jounce. Would they pop free of the tiny black scrap holding them up? Toren walked down the stairs. He could easily catch her, but she needed some space. He’d give her ten feet.
“I will catch ye this time,” Toren called out.
Toren strode across the empty ballroom toward the kitchens. He paused, his eyes searching the darkness pooled at the end. Had she run down the hall or into the kitchens? One flash of lightning and he’d know. The back door slammed shut.
“Through the kitchens,” he murmured and pushed the door open.
Toren�
�s large stride easily caught up to Kat in the gazebo. She was bent over a mound of wet clothing.
“Shoot, gosh darn, stupid thing!” she yelled at the uncooperative jeans as she tried to shove her foot into one side.
Rain pelted down from the sky and the wind roared around them, snapping tree limbs.
But Toren’s focus remained on the damp, beautiful she-cat before him.
“What are ye doing?”
“Leaving!” she shouted above the wind.
“With my necklace, again?” he said stressing the last word.
She turned on him. “You saw me the entire time.” Accusation laced her words as if he should feel guilty for the strange ability he had to see through her tricks.
“Aye,” he said simply.
“Even yesterday at the orphanage.”
“Aye.”
He watched her stamp her feet in temper. The wind picked at her drying hair. It curled seductively around her lovely face. Her eyes snapped. “So why tell me now? Why not continue to pretend?”
A tree limb cracked and fell next to the gazebo. They had terrible storms here. Toren leapt towards Kat, shielding her body from the brutal drafts. He looked down at her. “I had to know if ye were friend or foe.”
She looked bewildered.
“And I decided ye were not my foe.” He touched a curl that seemed to snake around his finger on its own accord.
Kat pursed her lovely lips together. “And how did you decide that?”
Toren caught her chin in his grasp and leaned, encompassing her body with his own. “Ye doona taste like a foe,” he said and kissed her. For a moment, her lips were cold, but as he ran his hands down her bare back, her lips began to melt. He slanted against her mouth, a tempest inside mirroring the storm around them. She moaned softly, and he ran his hands through her curls, down her shoulders, and across her barely concealed breasts. “Yer skin,” he breathed. “Tis so soft.” He ran his lips down her neck. “I will taste every inch of it.”
Masquerade (The Dragonfly Chronicles Book 3) Page 5
