Who is she?”
“A witch.”
That stunned her into silence…at least for a few moments. “You can’t be serious.” She studied his face, but she would read nothing in his expression, he’d had centuries to practice indifference.
With a sigh of disgust, she glanced back at Rose. The old woman was walking through the house like she meant to stay. “Why’s she here?”
Cristian leaned against the door jamb and crossed his arms over his broad chest, his dark blue t-shirt stretching over his back. “I heard a rumor in town that yer place is haunted. I don’t want ghosts when I move in.”
She snapped her head toward him, a lock of dark hair falling softly against her face. Her fingers curled and he knew she had to force herself to keep from hitting him square in the jaw. “I don’t want your help. I don’t want you here. I thought I made myself perfectly clear.”
But her eyes…hell, her eyes said something different. She wanted him, perhaps as much as he wanted her. That was the problem. The real reason she needed to leave. She might be fated to help him, but fates be damned. He couldn’t concentrate with the sexual tension sizzling in the air. If he couldn’t concentrate, he couldn’t protect her.
“Loot’s ‘appening ‘ere,” Rose crooned in her thick, Scottish accent.
Confusion swept over Ashley’s face. She slid him a glance and he realized she hadn’t a clue what Rose was saying. Christ, he’d wanted Rose to be authentic, but this was taking things a bit far.
“’igh activity.”
Ashley gave him another reluctant glance. He was going to have to interpret. He smiled, finding her confusion highly amusing and thoroughly enjoying the fact that she was dependant on him. “She said there’s a lot of supernatural activity.”
“Aye.” The old woman nodded. “That’s whoot I said.” Rose moved toward the kitchen where they both knew the basement door was located. They’d been there many times before. They probably knew the place better than Ashley.
“Shall we?” Cristian asked.
“Do I have a choice?” She was acting angry, and perhaps she was, but Cristian could see the curiosity in her hazel gaze. Grinning, he moved into the foyer and started toward the kitchen, knowing Ashley followed. He could sense her, hell, he could even smell her.
“And she is…”
“Rose MacNought,” he supplied.
Ashley elbowed her way by him. “Ms. MacNought…”
Rose paused in the middle of the kitchen and turned her beady eyes toward Ashley. “You see them?”
Apparently the old woman was going for direct. Ashley froze in midstep, the shock on her face was almost amusing. No way in hell the woman could deny her powers now.
“No,” blurted from her mouth. “I mean.” A red flush made its way up her neck and into her face. Bloody hell, the woman couldn’t lie to save her life. “That is…I can sense things sometimes, like cold air and stuff, but I mean…”
She slid Cristian a glance as if attempting to read his reaction.
“What’s this going to cost me?” she whispered, her look of shock turning into a glare.
He stepped closer to her, so close he could feel her body’s heat. He meant to intimidate her, but her nearness made his mind spin, his thoughts confused and muddled. “Nothing. On me.”
Her mouth fell open, and she began to sputter.
He grinned. Damn, how he wanted to jerk her forward and press his mouth to her lush lips. That would stop her sputtering nonsense and her questions.
“Aye, ye have an evil presence in this hame.” Rose said, slowly turning in circles in the middle of the room. Ashley tore her gaze from him, but Cristian continued to study her, unable to look away, fascinated by the way her eyes flashed, her lips pursed together. She sighed in disgust and crossed her arms over her chest.
“How much are you actually paying for her sage wisdom?”
Cristian didn’t bother to answer, considering he wasn’t paying Rose a damn
“A witch.”
That stunned her into silence…at least for a few moments. “You can’t be serious.” She studied his face, but she would read nothing in his expression, he’d had centuries to practice indifference.
With a sigh of disgust, she glanced back at Rose. The old woman was walking through the house like she meant to stay. “Why’s she here?”
Cristian leaned against the door jamb and crossed his arms over his broad chest, his dark blue t-shirt stretching over his back. “I heard a rumor in town that yer place is haunted. I don’t want ghosts when I move in.”
She snapped her head toward him, a lock of dark hair falling softly against her face. Her fingers curled and he knew she had to force herself to keep from hitting him square in the jaw. “I don’t want your help. I don’t want you here. I thought I made myself perfectly clear.”
But her eyes…hell, her eyes said something different. She wanted him, perhaps as much as he wanted her. That was the problem. The real reason she needed to leave. She might be fated to help him, but fates be damned. He couldn’t concentrate with the sexual tension sizzling in the air. If he couldn’t concentrate, he couldn’t protect her.
“Loot’s ‘appening ‘ere,” Rose crooned in her thick, Scottish accent.
Confusion swept over Ashley’s face. She slid him a glance and he realized she hadn’t a clue what Rose was saying. Christ, he’d wanted Rose to be authentic, but this was taking things a bit far.
“’igh activity.”
Ashley gave him another reluctant glance. He was going to have to interpret. He smiled, finding her confusion highly amusing and thoroughly enjoying the fact that she was dependant on him. “She said there’s a lot of supernatural activity.”
“Aye.” The old woman nodded. “That’s whoot I said.” Rose moved toward the kitchen where they both knew the basement door was located. They’d been there many times before. They probably knew the place better than Ashley.
“Shall we?” Cristian asked.
“Do I have a choice?” She was acting angry, and perhaps she was, but Cristian could see the curiosity in her hazel gaze. Grinning, he moved into the foyer and started toward the kitchen, knowing Ashley followed. He could sense her, hell, he could even smell her.
“And she is…”
“Rose MacNought,” he supplied.
Ashley elbowed her way by him. “Ms. MacNought…”
Rose paused in the middle of the kitchen and turned her beady eyes toward Ashley. “You see them?”
Apparently the old woman was going for direct. Ashley froze in midstep, the shock on her face was almost amusing. No way in hell the woman could deny her powers now.
“No,” blurted from her mouth. “I mean.” A red flush made its way up her neck and into her face. Bloody hell, the woman couldn’t lie to save her life. “That is…I can sense things sometimes, like cold air and stuff, but I mean…”
She slid Cristian a glance as if attempting to read his reaction.
“What’s this going to cost me?” she whispered, her look of shock turning into a glare.
He stepped closer to her, so close he could feel her body’s heat. He meant to intimidate her, but her nearness made his mind spin, his thoughts confused and muddled. “Nothing. On me.”
Her mouth fell open, and she began to sputter.
He grinned. Damn, how he wanted to jerk her forward and press his mouth to her lush lips. That would stop her sputtering nonsense and her questions.
“Aye, ye have an evil presence in this hame.” Rose said, slowly turning in circles in the middle of the room. Ashley tore her gaze from him, but Cristian continued to study her, unable to look away, fascinated by the way her eyes flashed, her lips pursed together. She sighed in disgust and crossed her arms over her chest.
“How much are you actually paying for her sage wisdom?”
Cristian didn’t bother to answer, considering he wasn’t paying Rose a damn
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