Voices?
Even as she thought the question, the answer came to her. Gawain had arrived, and he and Nikolas were somewhere close by, talking. The sound of their conversation didn’t come through the window, so there weren’t many options—they were either in the kitchen or the sitting room.
Once awareness had come so forcefully, she knew she would never get back to sleep. Swearing under her breath, she got out of bed and dressed. There were places all over her body, intimate places, that ached with a sensitized tenderness that hadn’t been present yesterday.
Her nipples felt the rasp of cloth as she donned her bra, and the muscles of her inner thighs were sore. The folds of her private flesh felt full and delicate. Even as memory flashed through her mind of his head between her legs, of the sensation of him moving inside her, a pulse of renewed hunger made her ache. Even though her mind wanted nothing more than to move on and forget the sense of abandonment she had felt the night before, her body remembered what had happened, and it wanted more.
Dressed again in her flannel pants, soft, long-sleeved shirt, and flip-flops, she left the bedroom to go in search of coffee. Oh, right. There was no coffee. This day had barely begun, and it was already a pain in the ass.
Nikolas and Gawain sat at the kitchen table. As she appeared, Gawain gave her a smile. “Hello again.”
She found she was unable to snarl at the friendliness in his expression, so she raised a hand and grunted in greeting as she made a beeline for the teakettle. Cautiously she touched the side. It was hot. After checking to make sure it had water, she lit the burner underneath it. As she turned to search for a mug and a tea bag, Nikolas stepped in front of her.
“Unh,” she said, checking so she didn’t bump into him.
He frowned at her, dark eyes sharp. “What is the matter with you?”
“Huh?” She didn’t have the energy to face him first thing, not after last night. Stepping around him, she muttered in a husky voice, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She found a mug and the box of tea. When she turned back to the kettle on the stove, he stood so close the sense of his nearness abraded her already raw nerves. His frown had turned fierce. He touched the delicate skin underneath her eyes.
“You look awful. The shadows under your eyes have gotten worse, not better. Are you sick?” he demanded.
She jerked back from his touch. “First, get out of my face. Second, you didn’t buy coffee. Third, don’t talk so loud—or better yet, don’t talk at all. Fourth, I didn’t sleep well. I usually don’t. Mornings are not my best time. Fifth, did I mention the fact that you didn’t buy coffee?”
“Multiple times,” he snapped.
“Your presence offends me.” She patted her chest. “It literally hurts right here. Not you, Gawain,” she said in an aside. “It’s nice to see you.”
“It’s good to see you too, Sophie.” Gawain sounded amused, but she noticed with gratitude he also kept his voice at a quiet enough level that it didn’t sound abrasive. Looking pointedly at Nikolas, he said, “I thought you said you two were getting along better.”
“That was apparently before I forgot to buy coffee,” Nikolas replied dryly. He plucked the mug and tea bag out of her hand. “I will make you a cup.”
“Make two while you’re at it,” she muttered. “I’m going to need a second one.”
Gawain said in a diffident voice, “Lass, I hate to bother you, especially right now, but is there any way you could do your silver null spell on me so I can stay?”
“Damn it,” she muttered. “Of course. I’ll be right back.”
She left to retrieve her vial of colloidal silver, and when she returned, Gawain held out his hand without a word. She cast the spell as she painted the rune, and after she finished, Nikolas set a hot, bracing mug of tea on the table in front of her. She latched on to it and didn’t let go until she had drunk the whole thing. He had added milk and sugar too, and she decided she liked the combination.
Giving her space to wake up properly, the men resumed talking about people she didn’t know, but she presumed she would probably meet in the next few days. Gawain stood and worked at the stove, and within a few minutes the smell of frying bacon and eggs filled the air.
When she had drained the first mug of tea, without a word, Nikolas took it from her and set another full mug on the table near her elbow. This time Gawain also slid a plate filled with a hot, cooked breakfast in front of her.
She stared at the plate. Bacon, sausages, beans, eggs, fried mushrooms, sliced tomatoes, and what looked like fried bread. It looked like enough food to feed someone twice her size. For a moment her stomach reacted with an uncertain queasiness, then sharp, genuine hunger set in. The last time she had eaten a proper meal had been two nights ago, in the pub.
She fell on the food and practically inhaled it while Nikolas and Gawain also ate. The talk fell away, and for a while all three existed in the quiet comfort of the sunny kitchen as they finished breakfast. To her own astonishment, she ate everything on her plate, and afterward she finished the second mug of tea too.
Finally she felt comfortably full and alert. She pushed that empty mug away too and looked up to discover both men watching her, Gawain with a slight smile, while Nikolas wore a brooding expression she didn’t know how to interpret.
She knew what his mouth tasted like. She knew how his hair felt, as the short, silken strands slipped through her fingers. Scowling, she averted her face and said to Gawain, “Thank you for breakfast. That was amazing.”
“You’re welcome, lass.” Gawain stood. “I need to get the packages in the storage compartment of my bike. Be right back.”
After he walked out, Nikolas said, “Why don’t you sleep well?”
“It’s just a thing,” she said. “It’s who I am. It’s not a big deal.”
“You say that a lot,” he told her. “I don’t believe it now, any more than I did before.”
She remembered the last time she had said it and how he had brought her to climax in spite of herself. A flood of warmth washed over her face. “Well, sometimes when I say it,” she said between her teeth, “it’s a boundary that you’re not supposed to cross. This is one of those times.”
She rose to slap their dirty plates together in a stack and carried them to the sink. He wasn’t going to let it go, she just knew it. They were rubbing each other the wrong way this morning, and this wasn’t going to end well.
But just in that moment, Gawain stepped back inside and the invisible pressure that had been simmering in the kitchen eased.
He set the packages on the table and unwrapped them while she finished clearing the table. When she started to wash the dishes, Gawain said, “Sit down, lass. You’re helping us so much you don’t need to do the washing up too. I’ll do those in a bit.”
“You can’t,” she pointed out. “Not and keep the null spell active.”
By the chagrin that passed over his face, she saw that he had forgotten. Nikolas stood. He told her, “Leave that for now. Come show us how to make the colloidal silver.”
“And that leads us to something we’d been talking about before you came to join us,” Gawain said. “The rent we’ll be paying you is more than fair, but we should be also paying you for your other services—for this and for helping us to explore the possibilities in your witchy house.”
She couldn’t wash dishes and have this conversation with them at the same time. Turning her back to the sink, she wiped her hands on a towel while she shook her head.
“My consulting services cost the LAPD a hundred grand a year,” she said. “But that’s not what we agreed upon. I’m teaching you the colloidal silver and null spell combination, and in return, you’re giving me a handgun with silver bullets and the legal right to use it. As far as exploring the manor house goes, I want to do that anyway. It’s my house. I should know its strengths and pitfalls and if there’s anything of worth inside that I might want to sell. If you want to engage me for anything else, we can talk about a consulting fee at that time. For now, the bargains we’ve struck are more than fair.”