Read Online Love of Her Lives by Sharon Clare - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Sharon Clare
Ads: Link
her body behind the door. Humid air misted around her carrying a soft scent of vanilla. He inhaled deeply.
“I asked you to turn your back.”
His smile was full of innocence. “Oh, did you now? I couldn’t hear you so well. Thought you asked me to wash your back, and I was about to explain how that translates in my culture.”
“You are so very not funny. Just give me the robe.”
He held the robe a tad beyond her reach until she opened the door further. The tease couldn’t be helped. She was beautiful, damp hair brushed off her faultless heart–shaped face, skin flushed and glistening, a hand fisted in the towel clenched under her neck.
“Get a good eyeful, warrior?” She snatched the robe from his hand.
“Not nearly full enough,” he grumbled to the door shutting in his face. “But I’ll do for now.”
Finn laughed. “Ah, warrior, it pains me to see you persist in what can only be a futile end.”
“You don’t look the least bit pained,” Calum pointed out. The last thing he wanted to accept was his propensity for a futile ending among the bed sheets. Barring Calum’s expectation that sheer will would overcome his physical handicap, there was no prospect greater than Finn’s power. Bloody hell. He needed the trickster.
“Sorry,” said Finn, looking anything but. “I find you most entertaining, warrior.”
Another last thing Calum wanted. “Finn, perhaps I could appeal to your sympathetic side. If you could just fix this wee — ”
Finn vanished in a soft gust that blew through Calum’s hair. Faint silver laughter trickled out of the hotel room.
“Of all the self–serving, egocentric … to suggest I be his damn entertainment — ”
“Who in the world are you talking to?” Beth exited the bathroom clad in robe and turbaned in white terry.
“No one!” Calum roared, then immediately stifled his outburst and smiled sheepishly. “I was talking on that phone trying to rouse some servants.”
“You were doing what?”
“I’m in need of a bottle of whiskey, woman — a big one.”
Her brow furrowed. She glanced in the mirror and rummaged through the bag of goods they’d purchased downstairs. “Since you didn’t give me time to pack my hair straightener, I’ll have to pull it straight with a brush and blow dry. And just so you know, I have clothes on under this robe, so — ”
A bottle dropped from midair at ceiling height. Calum caught it inches from the ground. “For the love of God!”
In the mirror’s reflection, Beth’s gaze fell from his face to the bottle in his hands.
“Imagine that.” Focusing on the bottle, he read the label. “A 1973 Edradour single cask. There was whiskey tucked away here all along.”
Her gaze narrowed to such a degree, he worried she might strain a muscle. Calum was happy to turn his back to slide forward the two glasses on the desk. He dumped a good measure in both and handed one to Beth.
“ Slàinte .” He raised his glass to hers before draining it. “Now that’s a damn fine whiskey.”
“I don’t drink Scotch … normally. Couldn’t be much farther from normal, could I?” She took a healthy gulp, squeezed her eyes shut, and shivered. “Ugh, that’s awful. Fill me up again … just half.”
Chapter 10
Desire Him, Desire Him Not
Beth felt a little more relaxed after the burn of whiskey dulled to warmth she felt mostly in her head — all buzzy and unperturbed up there. The slight haze felt welcome.
Calum’s eyes trained on her like a hungry wolf, but he stayed put in the Bergère chair. Not that she wanted him to get closer, she affirmed. Then affirmed again.
The more she looked at him, the more appealing he became. The polar opposite of Matthew, Calum looked like he’d be one with the mountains, not a city boy. The rugged look was accentuated by stubble that shadowed his square jaw. His hair was chin length, usually off his face, but caramel strands swung forward as he reached for his glass, muscles moving smoothly
“I asked you to turn your back.”
His smile was full of innocence. “Oh, did you now? I couldn’t hear you so well. Thought you asked me to wash your back, and I was about to explain how that translates in my culture.”
“You are so very not funny. Just give me the robe.”
He held the robe a tad beyond her reach until she opened the door further. The tease couldn’t be helped. She was beautiful, damp hair brushed off her faultless heart–shaped face, skin flushed and glistening, a hand fisted in the towel clenched under her neck.
“Get a good eyeful, warrior?” She snatched the robe from his hand.
“Not nearly full enough,” he grumbled to the door shutting in his face. “But I’ll do for now.”
Finn laughed. “Ah, warrior, it pains me to see you persist in what can only be a futile end.”
“You don’t look the least bit pained,” Calum pointed out. The last thing he wanted to accept was his propensity for a futile ending among the bed sheets. Barring Calum’s expectation that sheer will would overcome his physical handicap, there was no prospect greater than Finn’s power. Bloody hell. He needed the trickster.
“Sorry,” said Finn, looking anything but. “I find you most entertaining, warrior.”
Another last thing Calum wanted. “Finn, perhaps I could appeal to your sympathetic side. If you could just fix this wee — ”
Finn vanished in a soft gust that blew through Calum’s hair. Faint silver laughter trickled out of the hotel room.
“Of all the self–serving, egocentric … to suggest I be his damn entertainment — ”
“Who in the world are you talking to?” Beth exited the bathroom clad in robe and turbaned in white terry.
“No one!” Calum roared, then immediately stifled his outburst and smiled sheepishly. “I was talking on that phone trying to rouse some servants.”
“You were doing what?”
“I’m in need of a bottle of whiskey, woman — a big one.”
Her brow furrowed. She glanced in the mirror and rummaged through the bag of goods they’d purchased downstairs. “Since you didn’t give me time to pack my hair straightener, I’ll have to pull it straight with a brush and blow dry. And just so you know, I have clothes on under this robe, so — ”
A bottle dropped from midair at ceiling height. Calum caught it inches from the ground. “For the love of God!”
In the mirror’s reflection, Beth’s gaze fell from his face to the bottle in his hands.
“Imagine that.” Focusing on the bottle, he read the label. “A 1973 Edradour single cask. There was whiskey tucked away here all along.”
Her gaze narrowed to such a degree, he worried she might strain a muscle. Calum was happy to turn his back to slide forward the two glasses on the desk. He dumped a good measure in both and handed one to Beth.
“ Slàinte .” He raised his glass to hers before draining it. “Now that’s a damn fine whiskey.”
“I don’t drink Scotch … normally. Couldn’t be much farther from normal, could I?” She took a healthy gulp, squeezed her eyes shut, and shivered. “Ugh, that’s awful. Fill me up again … just half.”
Chapter 10
Desire Him, Desire Him Not
Beth felt a little more relaxed after the burn of whiskey dulled to warmth she felt mostly in her head — all buzzy and unperturbed up there. The slight haze felt welcome.
Calum’s eyes trained on her like a hungry wolf, but he stayed put in the Bergère chair. Not that she wanted him to get closer, she affirmed. Then affirmed again.
The more she looked at him, the more appealing he became. The polar opposite of Matthew, Calum looked like he’d be one with the mountains, not a city boy. The rugged look was accentuated by stubble that shadowed his square jaw. His hair was chin length, usually off his face, but caramel strands swung forward as he reached for his glass, muscles moving smoothly
Similar Books
