Free Velvet Haven by Sophie Renwick Page B

a nurse at St. Michael’s.”
    “You’re a healer.”
    She glanced up at him and was once again struck mute by his eyes. And that voice. It was so deep and velvety. Like a fine cognac, it was warm and smooth. “Uh—uh,” she stuttered. Good lord, one look into his eyes and then down to those big hard shoulders and she had completely lost the thread of the conversation.
    Brushing her long hair back from her cheek, he slid his fingertips down over her shoulders and along her arm. He tracked the progression of his hand as it got lost in her thick hair. Suddenly she couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think of anything other than having that big hand caressing her back in slow, sweeping motions.
    “I can feel it in you, you know, the power to heal.”
    Her traitorous libido went into overdrive. God, he had the sexiest voice she’d ever heard. When he ran his fingertips along her arm, raising goose bumps, Mairi gathered her scattered thoughts. “I’m just a nurse,” she muttered, inching away from him.
    It was not good to be this affected by him. He was a stranger, she reminded herself. He outweighed her by at least a hundred pounds and more than a foot of muscle and bulk. She would not be able to fight a man like this off. Better to steer clear of any possible entanglements.
    He moved in, following her when she tried to create space between them. “I bet you care for the terminally ill,” he murmured next to her ear.
    “No, Emergency Room.”
    His head cocked to the side as his gaze raked over her. “Are you sure you don’t help those who are in a hopeless situation?”
    She shuddered. What could he know about her? Did abused women and girls count as hopeless situations? There were days when she believed so.
    “I just thought . . .” He trailed off and glanced away, watching the crowd.
    “You thought what?”
    He swung his attention back to her, making her whole body liquefy. “Because of your aura I thought that you were the type to help people through dark times.”
    “My aura?” she choked. Whoa! Weird .
    His gaze turned molten and his face tightened up as if he heard her thoughts and was now offended by them.
    “Never mind, Mairi,” Rowan said, leaning across the table. “You’ll never get her to believe in auras or the supernatural. She’s a logical, hard-science girl.”
    “But you believe?”
    Rowan shrugged and smiled mischievously. “Maybe.”
    “Back at last,” Sayer said as he placed a couple of beers in front of Rowan and Mairi. He passed a tall glass of something red to Bran.
    “What are you drinking?” Mairi asked, eyeing the glass.
    “Something called a Trance. Do you want to taste it?”
    “No, thanks.”
    He took a long drink and held it out to her. “Nothing in it. Honest.”
    Yeah, right. He was so huge, a little bit of GHB or ketamine wouldn’t affect him, but her . . . she’d likely fall flat on her back and then . . . She found herself looking at his mouth, and then at his hands. And then . . . she imagined what he’d do with that mouth and those strong fingers.
    “Hello, Rowan.”
    They both glanced up to see the DJ, or Tarot Guy as he was known between them, pull up a chair. He turned it around and straddled it. Mairi couldn’t help but admire his thighs in his jeans. And his eyes . . . they looked silver, but were outlined in violet, just like Bran’s. Man, did everyone here wear contacts?
    “Hi,” Rowan murmured with a shy smile before taking a dainty sip of her beer.
    “I’m Keir, my apologies for not introducing myself before.” He extended his hand, which was covered in unusual tattoos. Not necessarily run-of-the-mill tribal tats, but something similar. The pattern snaked its way up the length of his arm, over his huge muscles, and disappeared beneath the sleeve of his T-shirt.
    Rowan, Mairi noticed, did a full-body blush when Keir gripped her hand, then pulled back only to fiddle with the cap of her beer bottle. Mairi saw him frown, then glare at his