Chapter 24 #2
The barkeep turned away, muttering to himself.
Nigel became aware of Calista’s cat-eyed gaze watching him narrowly.
He did not look at her in return, but kept his eyes fixed on the bowl of peanuts in front of him.
He was plenty aware, however, when she slid out of her expensive coat and draped it over the back of the swiveling barstool.
What she wore underneath was . . . not wholly unexpected.
Not after the evening he’d spent with Bryony.
Nigel didn’t have to look at her directly to get a very strong impression of a lowcut front and even lower back, and a gaudy jewel positioned in just such a way as to draw the eye to the ample bosom on display.
Neither did he need a close inspection to recognize that her figure was very good, as good as it had ever been back in university days.
He also knew now that she was not above seduction to get what she wanted. And he was ninety percent certain he knew what she wanted.
He cracked a peanut with his nail, breaking the shell into little bits but not eating the nut. “And, erm,” he said, “how is Mr. Anguish this evening?”
Calista smiled serenely. “Sleeping one off back in the hotel.” The barkeep set a dark red drink in a wide, shallow glass down in front of her.
She picked it up delicately, her red lips a perfect match for the liquid she sipped.
“I trust he’ll be feeling fairly human again by tomorrow, in time for his meeting with the Minister Supreme of the SSC.
” She tilted an eyebrow Nigel’s way. “The Sorcery Suppressions Convocation, you know.”
Nigel felt his tie tighten. He selected another peanut and cracked its shell.
The last time he’d looked into the face of the Minister Supreme of Sorcery Suppressions, it had been a false face worn by his own brother as a disguise.
Did this mean Fabian was returned from the Phrigidos Isles so soon?
Or had the real Ebenezer Prodigimus reassumed his life in Ballycastle now that his imposter was removed?
None of these questions were safe to be voiced, however.
Casting Calista a sideways glance, Nigel took care not to let his gaze drop to that sparkling bosom-jewel, no matter how she angled herself.
Thanks to Bryony for giving him the much-needed practice!
“And you?” he queried. “You just . . . wander the streets of Lower Eastside Ballycastle. Alone. At night. For the . . . thrill of it all?”
She leaned back a little, toying with the rim of her cocktail glass. “I don’t remember you being so sarcastic back in scrying class.”
Nigel resisted the urge to pull at his tie.
Calista leaned forward again and slipped a well-manicured hand over his. “I never thanked you properly, you know. For saving my life.”
She trailed her thumb back and forth across the back of his hand.
Nigel studied those languid strokes, curious how she could make such a simple gesture so sensuous.
The version of himself from fifteen years ago would have ignited on the spot, but he felt strangely cold.
Perhaps he was too jaded to enjoy such simple pleasures as manipulative seduction.
He resisted the urge to pull away, however.
He wanted to see how far she would take this and what other tactics she might employ.
He could defend himself against sexual advances; he wasn’t sure what he’d do if she resorted to sorcery.
“It was nothing,” he said, lifting his gaze to hers. “Anyone would have done the same.”
“Yes,” she purred, “but it was you who did.”
He shrugged. “I was only fulfilling what the tea leaves predicted.”
She laughed at this. She was a good laugher, very polished.
Just enough flashing teeth to be convincing, not enough to be off-putting.
A throaty chuckle that made one feel warm inside, without the faintest hint of pitchiness.
If one could purchase one’s laughter, this laugh was definitely obtained from the same high-end boutique as that gown and that bosom-jewel and that fascinating little hat. Expensive. But tasteful.
“It was a good thing you were able to interpret the leaves better than I had,” Calista said, leaning toward him just a little, just enough.
“All I saw was a deep and passionate embrace. But it did not play out quite as I expected, did it?” Another laugh, just as expensive as the first. Then her gaze sharpened.
“Or perhaps I saw something else. Perhaps the future revealed to my Sight was intended for a more distant time. A future neither one of us could have foreseen.”
Nigel blinked slowly. Was she truly trying to convince him that all those years ago, she’d seen a vision of them kissing tonight? Did she think he was that gullible? Granted, he absolutely would have been back in the day.
He found his gaze dropping almost against his will to her very red lips.
So full, so gleaming, so perfectly lined and plumped.
His skin crawled faintly. He vividly remembered how long it took to scrub that lipstick off his face following the lifesaving events of that fateful class period.
Not an experience he cared to replicate.