both a sharp glance. “Four! That late? What happened? Did you find Kathy?”
“I caught up with her.” Body tense, Quicksilver gripped Theresa’s wrist. “Two vampires lured her into an alley near the Orchard Hotel. I told her to go home. I wanted to make sure she did.”
“Wait here. Maybe she snuck past me after I fell asleep. Let me check.” Theresa hurried away, climbing a massive, heavily carved oak stairway. She disappeared down a shadowy hallway.
Suddenly aware of his own exhaustion and the late hour, Kethan strolled over to one of the benches lining the entryway. He’d arisen before dawn to prepare for the negotiations, unable to sleep any longer. It had taken them weeks to get Martyn Sutton to consent to a meeting. Even then, Sutton only agreed if they used a public place, like the Orchard Conference Center where there were plenty of avenues in and out. It was neutral territory for all parties.
He glanced at Quicksilver, trying not to hold her responsible. Months of planning, gone. A slow burning anger briefly flared in his chest.
S he was only trying to protect Kathy Sherman. She didn’t know what she was interrupting. He swallowed his frustration and rolled his shoulders, easing the tightness.
At the sound of his shoes scraping the floor, Quicksilver turned her head and met his gaze. He nodded and sat, staring down at the smooth, dark wooden floor, aware of a heavy sense of exhaustion.
Cross-purposes. If only….
He shook his head and rubbed his face. Unfortunately, opposites did seem to attract, and he was more than aware of the potent attraction between them, although it was hard to say what Quicksilver felt, or thought.
When he looked up, he found her still staring at him.
“How long does it take to figure out if someone is in her bed or not?” She strode back and forth with rapid, jerking turns, swinging her helmet in her hand.
“It takes as long as it takes.” He stood up with a sigh. His knees cracked.
Her nervous tension made him feel even older and more tired. He doubted he was more than five years her senior. He’d lived thirty-two years as a human, but he felt like an ancient, doddering old fool trying to recapture his youth on the back of a motorcycle with his hands wrapped around the waist of a girl much too young for him.
But he had to admit, Quicksilver was a difficult woman to resist. She appeared to be in her mid-twenties, but an exhilarating air of tempting naughtiness, like a forbidden, wanton Lolita, clung to her. He couldn’t escape the desire to step closer and feel the sizzle in his blood.
Her eyes glowed silver in the harsh light of the hallway as she caught him watching her. Despite the shadows blurring her features, she appeared amused, as if she knew his thoughts and found them entertaining.
“You look uncomfortable,” she said. “Maybe you should just go home.”
“After Miss Blackstone comes back.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll tell her you said goodbye.”
“I can wait.”
Her smiled turned into a laugh. “You’re sure a glutton for punishment. You don’t have a hair shirt on under there, do you?” She flicked the collar of his shirt with her finger.
“ No.” He caught her wrist and held her gaze. Slowly, he lowered her hand and released it. “I’m not one for self-flagellation. Never have been.”
Cheeks flushed, s he stepped away, thumping her helmet against her thigh. She stared at the door behind him. “Then stop punishing yourself. Get out of here.”
“I’ll wait.” He smiled. “I enjoy your company.”
She shrugged. “It’s your funeral. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Chapter Seven
Quicksilver looked into Kethan’s brilliant blue eyes, so rich in color they appeared neon. The heat of attraction rose within her. He was one of those irresistible Irishmen with black hair and blue eyes, complete with a glib tongue and gift for blarney, the kind of man who could make a woman do, or believe, anything he wished. No wonder he