Knight of Pentacles (Knights of the Tarot Book 3)
Page 26
Vanessa gave him her most charming smile. Given the acrobatics of his speech, she couldn’t help wondering what other feats his tongue might perform for her benefit.
The smoky look in his topaz eyes threw tinder on the blaze in her loins, burning away her lingering guilt about sleeping with him. Fortunately, her shrewdness was more flame-retardant. If she invited him up to her room, he’d have no reason to take her to Barrogill. Yes, she could try to finagle her way in, but, being a Leo and a player, he would probably find pushiness in a potential lover as unattractive as she did.
No, if she wanted to keep his interest, she’d have to use her knowledge of astrology to gain the upper hand in this little dance of seduction—by letting him take the lead. Leos, being lions, were proud hunters with fiery passions and romantic sensibilities. In other words, Leo men liked to do the chasing, usually with all the hearts-and-flowers schmaltz.
They also liked to be stroked and, if crossed, could instantly turn from purring pussycats into roaring beasts. At the first sign a woman wanted to rule him, a Leo man beat a hasty retreat back to his den. If, therefore, she wanted this sexy jungle cat eating out of her hand, she’d have to play hard to get.
“When is the protest?” he asked, recalling her attention.
“This weekend.”
A roguish gleam came into his eyes. “Really? Well…what are you planning to do until then?”
“I’m not sure,” she said, spinning her web. “I thought I might have a look around the area. I flew into Wick, and the scenery I observed on the way up here was breathtaking.”
“Aye. That it is. Would you like someone to show you around?”
She fluttered her lashes. “Are you offering?”
“I might be…depending.”
“Depending on what?” she asked, brow furrowed.
As he sipped his drink, his gaze spread over her like honey, leaving sweet warmth behind. “What you’re looking for.”
She smiled, ready to set the trap. “I’m looking for a hot Scot to have fun with. Even better if he owns a castle and a kilt.”
“You’re in luck, then. Because I own both.”
“Really? Cool. What’s it like to live in a castle?”
“Like most things, it has its ups and downs.”
The Tower from her tarot reading flashed through her mind. The image showed a man and a woman falling headlong from a burning barbican. “Tell me about this castle of yours. Does it have a tower?”
“Aye.”
“Where is it?” She sipped her drink, pretending ignorance. “And what’s it called?”
“It’s up near Easter Head, and it’s called Barrogill, which translates roughly as ‘fortress in a ravine.’”
She smiled at him coquettishly. “Do you ever take your conquests there?”
He shook his head, clearly fighting to suppress a smile.
“Why not?
Lowering his gaze to his drink, he began to play with the glass. “Because I value my privacy too much.”
“That’s too bad…because I’ve never been inside a castle before.”
“Aye, well. We might be able to work something out.”
“Really?” She beamed at him. “That would be awesome.”
Vanessa had never been on this side of a pick-up before and didn’t like it much. Men pursued her; she didn’t pursue them, and trying to walk the line between showing interest and coming on too strong was like walking a tightrope without a net underneath.
Tapping his glass to let the bartender know he was ready for a refill, the baron offered her a disarming smile. “At the risk of sounding like I’m handing you a line, what sign might you be?”
“I’m Aquarius…but with Leo rising.” A grin played on her mouth. “Which makes me a paradox.”
“As well as a wide-eyed idealist who can’t bear to be tied down,” he said, eyes glittering. “A butterfly flitting from flower to flower, never settling on any for long.”
She furrowed her brow. “I don’t flit, Lord Lyon. But otherwise, you’re spot on.” She bent to sip her drink, keeping her eyes on him. “What about you? You’re a Leo, obviously, but what’s your ascendant?”
“Also Leo.”
She nearly choked. “Good God. You’re a double Leo?”
“Aye, and it behooves me to warn you we double Leos are ruthless romantics, a dangerous prospect for a free-spirited butterfly such as yourself.”
“Ruthless?” She gulped. “In what way?”
The barkeep had poured the baron another drink. Raising it to his mouth, he took a sip before licking his lips in a most discomposing manner. “That’s for me to know and for you to find out.”
She held his stare with a defiant gleam. “Go on. I dare you to say something to sweep me off my feet.”
He gazed at her intently for several thrilling moments, then said, “I’m fire and you’re air…and fire needs air, to breathe and to burn.”
Though impressed, she wasn’t about to let on. “That’s not half bad, but I’m not quite bowled over.”
He laughed and sipped his drink. “Aye, well. It’s your loss.”
She pursed her lips. “You sound awfully sure of yourself.”
He tilted his forehead down to rest against hers. His skin, his whole being radiated sex. Closing her eyes, she soaked his essence in, along with his alluring aroma. Whisky, a pleasant herbal fragrance, and sultry manliness. Without planning to, she pressed her mouth to his. To her delight, he not only kissed her back, he also parted his lips and gave her his tongue. She brushed his with hers, but only for a transitory moment.
“Are you staying here at the inn?” he asked.
“Um-hmm,” she murmured against his lips. “Would you like to see my room? It’s got a nice, big bed.”
Oh, shit. She hadn’t meant to say that. Now what?
“I want more than one night, mo dearbadan-de.”
Pulling away, she scowled at him. “What did you just call me?”
“My butterfly, in Gaelic.”
“Oh.” Her resistance melted away until she remembered what else he’d said. “You want more? How much more?”
“All three days you’re in Caithness.”
Seeing her chance, she asked with a smile, “Can I stay at your castle?”
He answered with a devastating smile of his own. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Yes! She was in. “What are we going to do together for three whole days?”
“Everything I can think of to enjoy ourselves and Caithness.”
“That sounds wonderful,” she said, meaning every word.
“Good. Then, it’s settled…and I shall collect you in the morning.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Collect me like a butterfly?”
He grinned boyishly. “Just like a butterfly.”
“What should I wear?”
“Something pretty, but comfortable for walking,” he told her.
Vanessa could not be more pleased—and not just because she’d achieved her goal of getting invited to his castle. Callum Lyon was the whole luxury package: handsome, charming, romantic, smart, and rich. He also took charge without being inconsiderate or controlling—rare qualities she appreciated. If she was in the market for a man, he would be just the sort to tempt her to buy.
He got up, downed his drink, and kissed her on the cheek like a perfect gentleman. “Sleep well, Butterfly. Tomorrow, I shall collect you at eight o’clock sharp.”
Eight seemed awfully early to look her best. “Can we make it nine instead? I’m still a bit jet-lagged, I’m afraid.”
“Of course we can.” He handed his credit card to the bartender. “Shall I meet you in the lobby or come up to your room?”
“The lobby would be perfect.” That way, she could keep him waiting and make an entrance.
Table of Contents
Books by Nina Mason
Knight of Pentacles
Copyright
Acknowledgements
PART ONE
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
PART TWO
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Epilogue
Meet the Author
Knight of Wands
Chapter 1