kettle whistled from the kitchen and Michaela’s expression instantly reverted into her usual smooth mask. “Can you make the tea?” she asked. “I’ll be there in about twenty minutes.”
As a dismissal, it was clear enough, but he lingered in the door. Michaela stood with her hands on her hips, watching him in the long mirror that lined the wall. “The tea?” she repeated.
Was she giving him orders like a servant? He settled against the wall, ready to contradict her when a flash from her eyes warned him to back off. For many long-lived arcana, meditation was a necessity to mentally process the demands of their many years. He shut the door behind him, feeling momentarily ashamed to have prevented her peace.
He went to make the tea.
Precisely twenty minutes later, Michaela came out with tidy hair and calm eyes. She took the cup he gave her with a nod of thanks and sipped. She sipped again, her eyebrows raised. “This is good.”
Despite himself, he felt a rush of pleasure that she enjoyed it.
Ridiculous. What did he care if she liked the tea?
It was nice that she did, though.
* * * *
Although their discussion in her apartment had been polite enough, as Michaela started the car, she felt a barrier slam down between them. It had been difficult for her to get to sleep again last night. The memory of how he had leaned in towards her before they left the car had kept her tossing and turning all night. She’d wanted more.
It was bizarre. She didn’t even like the man. Not only that, she’d seen his face when she’d shifted into Yuri. Under his initial shock was an expression she was used to seeing from other arcana—suspicion mixed with horror. The masquerada were too different from the rest of the arcana. She sniffed. Somehow vampires drinking blood was considered more normal.
She passed a human in a BMW whose rude gesture stopped dead when he saw the glare Cormac gave him.
Now. Just say the words.
“You were right.” Unlike last night, this time she meant it. “I should have woken you. I’m not used to answering to another person about my whereabouts.”
“Thank you.” He touched her hand and that simple gesture nearly skyrocketed her heartbeat. She pulled away, not comfortable with her reaction. “So. You were a vampire last night.”
She didn’t take her eyes off the road. “You had pigeons. I didn’t know fey could summon animals like that.”
“Fine. Let’s make a deal.”
“Shall I buy a vowel?” She glanced over.
His lip quirked. “Wrong show. Here’s what I suggest. We say nothing about last night, at all. That’s it. What happened will stay our secret.”
“Agreed.” Her answer was so prompt that he laughed.
“I’m not done yet. You tell me about taking on arcane masques. That’s not supposed to happen.”
“There’s no rule against it.”
“Then you won’t mind if I mention it to the other councilors.”
She definitely would. “Then you need to tell me about the animals.” She stopped at a red light and faced him, waiting until he started to speak.
“What do you know about the fey?”
She turned back to the road, frowning slightly. “You draw energy from nature, I know that, and protect the forests you’re bonded to. Queen Tismelda’s court is said to be quite an experience, though she doesn’t welcome strangers.”
“True enough. We can sense nature, but most are limited to the plants and animals that are individually located in their ancestral forests.”
Michaela nodded. “I thought it was mostly trees.”
“It is, for most. I’ve lived in the city for so long that the animals are used to me. They reacted to my anger but it was unconscious.” He shrugged. “There’s no more to it than that.”
When she parked the car and made to get out, Cormac stopped her. “No, you don’t. You don’t get to leave when it’s time for my questions.”
“I wasn’t done with my questions but I want out of the car.” Away from being close to him.
“Fine. In my office.”
“In the security room.” Since her own office was a crime scene.
“No, Michaela. You have a team who will want to talk to you and interrupt us. Mine.”
It made sense. It was a logical decision, Michaela told herself. Still, she didn’t like him ordering her around. “The boardroom.”
Now he laughed. “You never give up, do you?”
She smiled. “We’re agreed? The boardroom?”
He shook his head, still smiling. “Agreed.”
A small victory, but after last night, good enough.
Chapter 9
He wondered if she knew he’d lied about the pigeons. The garage was open on one side and the reflected morning sun from glass-fronted buildings was a mere ghost of the bright light that cut through the trees of his forest. He hated it. Much more scenic was Michaela walking in front of him. Her tight black pants hugged the curve of her ass and she’d wrapped a thick gray leather belt twice around her waist before knotting it. Seeing it made him think of untying it before slowly stripping her to her gorgeous skin.
Cormac’s breath almost whooshed out. The thought of having Michaela Chui nude in front of him, those pale lips growing redder, combined with her rich perfume, almost leached the will out of him.
If he wasn’t careful, that woman would have a power over him that would be unacceptable. He’d been alone for so long that his isolation had gone from a punishment to a necessity. To let another being into his heart was unthinkable. Good thing this wasn’t love. He only wanted to touch her. That was physical and it was completely acceptable.
Apart from the extra security Michaela had posted at all the entrances, they met no one on the way to the boardroom. It gave him time to think about how he would handle the rest of her questions. He might want her, but he hadn’t decided on how much he trusted her. She might be angry with him, but Madden still had a heavy call on her loyalty. Better to keep it simple.
The boardroom was empty and Michaela took the head seat. He hid a grin as she nodded him to the seat on her right, and instead sat on the table in front of her.
“Ask away,” he said.
A momentary look of dismay crossed her face as she realized that Cormac loomed over her. He deliberately leaned into her personal space and watched her struggle to not move back.
He saw the slight quiver that presaged a shift. He moved back, fast. It was too early in the morning for him to have to face that hulk of a man. Yuri was someone best experienced after a few good pints at the pub.
Michaela narrowed her eyes, then cleared her throat. “Pigeons?”
“Still nature. Birds are animals.” He gave up the game and sat down in the chair. “Those men had probably been drinking. If they report they were attacked by a flock of birds in a back alley?”
“Not the most reliable witnesses. The same as if they say they were attacked by a seven-foot-tall vampire.”
He restrained the desire to shudder at that grotesque image. “Now you.”
Her smile lit up her whole face. How had he ever thought her a statue? Michaela was a vibrant, elegant, incredibly desirable woman—when she was not Yuri or a vampire or god-knows-what. Then he considered her. It was more accurate to say this masque was a stunning woman. It might not have any resemblance to Michaela’s natural self.