Wolfish in Sheep’s Clothing #3
Kat ran her fingers up and down the stem of the champagne flute. “We’re talking about me again.”
“It’s become my favourite subject.”
They ate quietly for several minutes and finally the waiter brought their second courses, trying to find room for them on the small tabletop. When he had gone, Calder said, “You can ask me anything you like.”
“You can tell me whatever you choose.”
He considered and then said, “My mother and aunts knit beautifully. Although when I was a boy, I didn’t appreciate wearing handmade jumpers and long scarves. I wanted to wear what the other lads were wearing, track jackets and anything with sports logos.”
“You were a heathen.”
“To be sure. I would purposely fall from my bike or skateboard hoping to destroy things, but then my mother would mend them, which made things worse. My mates would all laugh at me.”
So Calder was a poor boy who’d made good in the big city, she thought. A boy who didn’t understand thriftiness and gifts made with love. A careless boy who had become a careless man.
“School?” she asked.
“Hated it, but I did exceedingly well, because when I do anything, I do it exceedingly well. Anything.”
Calder’s upper body didn’t move, but Kat felt his leg against her own, making her every nerve jump. It was only the lightest, possibly accidental touch, but Kat didn’t think so when she saw the smile playing on his lips. She was suddenly thinking of what else he did quite well.
“Calder, if you need more room for your legs, you can set your chair back.”
“My legs are comfortable where they are. I thought yours might be cold,” he said, pressing his leg more boldly against hers.
His flattery and confidence excited and confused her, because he was so very beautiful, and she was just … “If you think you’re entitled to anything because you’re picking up the bill, you’re wrong. I came here expecting to pay for my own meal, not to trade favours for it.”
“I wasn’t implying …”
She took a bite of the delicious fresh halibut and enjoyed his chagrined expression. “It’s all right,” she said.
“You’ll forgive me?”
“I’m forgiving a lot of people today. Yes.”
“Who else needs forgiveness?”
“A friend who told me I should come on this trip. She claims to have ‘the sight’, and said I’d meet a man in a kilt.”
“Don’t mock ‘the sight’. Many women in my family have it.” He grinned roguishly. “I have a kilt.”
“So does every man in every tourist shop here.”
Sighing dramatically, he said, “You’re making me feel very unappreciated.”
“I’m sure your ego will recover.”
“It will if you’ll still allow me to pay for the meal.”
“Yes, but only because I feel sorry for you, Calder,” she said, and they laughed together.
Dessert came and their conversation became lighter, although Kat was always aware of his long legs under the table, his blue eyes, and the tension between the two of them. Between Calder and confident, sexy Kat.
She’d wondered what he’d ordered last and, as it turned out, the Highland Park was a single-malt scotch. Calder lifted his glass to her and said, “Most welcome sunshine on a chilly day. Hold it in your mouth and let it bloom inside.”
Even though he hadn’t said anything improper, Kat thought it sounded dirty.
Maybe it was her imagination, which kept thinking of what those large hands would feel like on her skin.
She took a sip of the drink and tasted an almost honeyed sweet note, faint smoke and peat, orange blossoms, unlike anything she’d had before. “It’s delicious.”
“The distillery is in Orkney. The islands are said to be inhabited by trows.”
Orkney sounded familiar, and she remembered the marvellous painting she’d seen. “What are trows?”
“Like leprechauns, though not as nice. Evil hideous little buggers that cause naught but mischief in the night.”
“Have you ever seen one?” she teased.
“My mother says that I am one,” he answered.
“A giant trow baby, so big that they feared what I would become, so the trows stole away her own buey bain and placed me in his crib, which is why I’ve a passion for music and song, like my true wicked kin.
They say that at the weetin’ of my heid,” and here Calder tapped his head to show her what he meant, “I toasted my father and asked him for a proper tipple.”
She laughed in a way she hadn’t since she was young. “Your suit is camouflage then, like your brogue, which comes and goes. You’re trying to pass as a civilized human being, but there’s still some wildness in you.”
“Perhaps you can domesticate me, Kat.”
“I’m sure other women have tried and failed.”
He winked and said, “There’s always the first time.” He held his glass so that it caught the light from the candle on their table. “This is the same amber as your eyes, Kat.”
“Does your wife know you flirt like this?”
“If I had a wife, she’d know. Would you like to marry me?”
“Not now. Ask me later.” She took another sip of the scotch and felt tingly and sexy.
“Then would you like to hear some music? Or if you prefer some place posh …”
“I’d like to go where the locals go.”
She was aware of the maitre d’s satisfied glance as they left together. Calder helped her into her coat and stared at her oddly when she had it on.
A valet brought Calder’s car, and Kat had a moment of trepidation as Calder held the door open for her. “You won’t kidnap me, will you?”
If he had answered, “You can trust me,” the catch phrase of every sleazy man she’d ever met, Kathy would have said goodnight and caught a taxi. But Calder said, “Nae, lassie, because I think you’ve a taste for the finer things, and I’m still a bit of a heathen.”
Calder drove to an outlying neighbourhood and turned into a car park.
“If you don’t like it I’ll take you back to your hotel, or wherever you wish to go.
” He got out and opened the car door for Kat, and then led her down a lively street of shops, cafés and restaurants.
Music thump-thumped outside the pub, and Calder paid for their entrance, took her arm, as he guided her inside the packed room.
A rollicking bar band blasted out a brash folky-rock song, and they found space standing against a wall. Calder leaned down to speak into her ear and she could smell his faint woody aftershave. He said, “Is this acceptable?”
Kat looked up into his dark eyes, smiled and nodded. “Yes.”
He shrugged out of his jacket and helped her off with her coat, and then he got drinks for them.
Kat quickly drank a bottle of water, hoping to clear her head because she felt dizzy from the music, Calder beside her, the heat of the room, the loud voices.
He said, “Will ye dance wi me?” and drew her into the melee.
She felt the thrill of dancing wildly on a Friday night in an exciting city with a sexy man.
One song led to another and another and then there was a slow number, and Calder pulled her close.
When he looked into her eyes, her breath caught.
She felt the muscles in his back and the slight dampness of the shirt clinging to his skin; his hand on her lower back, his fingers extending down to her hip.
When the song was over, he kept his arm around her waist and said, “It’s hot in here.” He grabbed their coats and led her out a side door and into a narrow dark alley. The drizzle and chill night air were delicious on her hot skin, and Calder pulled her tightly to him and bent down to kiss her.
It wasn’t a tentative, gentle, first-date kind of kiss. It was firm and hungry, an uncivilized, dangerous kiss, and she opened her mouth and felt his tongue slide in against hers. He tasted of scotch and his hands dropped lower on her hips, clutching her to his own.
She’d reached into his shirt, feeling the hot skin beneath, and his hands were moving now, too. She had the giddy sense that someone would catch them like this, kissing as madly as teenagers.
His mouth went to her ear, her neck, the curve of her breast, and he said huskily, “Kat … do you want to go to your hotel?”
She thought of the tiny room, the thin mattress, and said, “Where are you staying?”
“Close by. No one is there.”
“Let’s go,” she said, which was crazy because she never did things like this. Or Kathy never did. Kat was laughing with Calder as he took her hand and they rushed to a nearby residential block off the main road.
The townhouse looked very expensive and old, with steps leading to two glossy black doors.
Calder unlocked one and he held Kat’s hand as they went upstairs.
He flicked on a lamp when they reached the landing.
She saw a wide dining room that opened to a living room with polished hardwood floors, creamy walls, modern furniture and abstract oil paintings.
Calder turned to her and ran the back of his fingers over her cheek. She leaned into his caress, and he said, “You’re quite beautiful, you know, like this, your hair every which way and your makeup smudged and looking like a wild creature. A very beautiful wild Kat.”
He kissed her as they went down the hall.
She saw the door to the bathroom, and said, “I’ll just be a moment.
” When she was alone and the door closed, she took a minute to wonder if this was what she wanted to do, and the answer was yes, yes, yes.
She freshened up, but left her hair as it was, a mass of corkscrews and frizz.
When she came out, she saw light from an open doorway and went to it, saying, “Calder?” Fragrant beeswax candles in pewter candlesticks cast a soft glow on a stylish room in ivory and sea-green with black minimalist furniture.
Calder smiled at Kat she went to him. He took her hand and lifted it to his lips, kissing it gently.
Then he said, “Kat, I think you’re a woman who always gets what you want, when you want it, but we’ll take things at my pace now.”
She could feel her heart pounding in her chest and felt a flush of annoyance. “Why the rush?”