Free Knight of Wands (Knights of the Tarot Book 1) by Nina Mason

atop a knoll overlooking the sea.
    Callum pulled the car closer, lowered the window, and pressed a button to activate the intercom.
    A Scottish man’s voice squawked out of the speaker. “Would that be you, then, my lord?”
    “Aye, Hamish. Sorry to be so late in returning, but we got hung up by the fog.”
    “The important thing is that you’re here at last, safe and sound, my lord.”
    A motor started up and the gates swung slowly inward, hinges groaning under the strain of their weight. Callum pulled the Range Rover through into a circular drive with a large spot of green lawn at the center and brought the car to a stop near the porch.
    After shutting off the wipers and headlamps, he looked her way with an oddly tentative expression. “Are you ready for this?”
    She swallowed and forced a smile. “As ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose.”
    Angst avalanched over her. She drew a deep breath to calm her nerves. What awaited her inside? The thought sent shivers of fear-laced excitement racing through her bloodstream.
    He hopped out, ran around to her door, and pulled it open. As she swung her legs around, he offered her his hand and a smile. Returning his smile with a trembling one of her own, she took his hand.
    The sky was still drizzling, so, after helping her out, he quickly ushered her into the sheltering arch of the front portico.
    He opened his mouth to say something, but before the words spilled out, the huge front door creaked open. On the other side stood a tall, stringy man with thinning dark hair. Hamish the butler, presumably, wearing an old-fashioned tweed suit and a guarded expression.
    “Would you be good enough to fetch the lady’s bags from the car,” Callum said to his manservant, “and put them in my bedchamber?”
    “Very good, my lord.” Hamish nodded. “Dinner is ready whenever you are.”
    Callum’s golden gaze slid toward her, then back to his butler. “If it’s not too great an imposition, I think the lady might like a wee bit of time to freshen up before we eat.”
    She would, actually. Very much. Between the rain and the sea wind, her skin and hair felt sodden and sticky. What she’d like more than anything was a nice long soak in a bathtub, though she didn’t want to spoil whatever romantic antics he’d planned. Dinner had already waited on them long enough and she was more than ready to eat.
    “Just a quick wash,” she said, smiling. “It won’t take long.”
    As Hamish went out to collect the bags, Callum placed her hand in the crook of his arm and escorted her up a staircase to an overlook decorated with tapestries, paintings, and statuary. She looked around, impressed. The place was eclectic, tasteful, and remarkably warm and homey for a castle. At the first opportunity, she would explore every nook and cranny with her EMF meter.
    “How many rooms does Barrogill have?”
    He rubbed his chin with his free hand. After a minute, he met her gaze, a bemused smile on his mouth. “Thirty-eight, I believe, though I might have forgotten one or two.” Mischief twinkled in his golden eyes. “Also, just so you know, there’s a trapdoor to the dungeon in the dining room, in case you fail to use the proper fork…or say something over dinner I don’t care to hear.”
    She smiled, her interest spiking. A dungeon seemed the perfect place for a vampire to hide, but how to get down there without being noticed?
    “Does the dungeon have any unusual features?” A vampire, for example? Or, just as intriguing, whips and chains of the erotic variety? She’d never experimented with BDSM, but was open-minded about the possibility. She was all for trying new things and expanding her horizons, sexual or otherwise.
    “Not unless you count the tunnel leading under the garden,” he said. “Back when the castle was built, it was used as an escape route when the Sinclairs stormed the place—an all-too-common occurrence.”
    She filed the fact away for later as she asked, affecting