Last Wish (Highland Magic #4)(33)

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Aifric frown and jerk forward. One of the men from the Cruaich clearing grabbed hold of him and murmured in his ear. He relaxed and settled back, with a leer on his face. Ick.

‘Who is in charge of this gathering?’ I demanded.

Jamie, believing I was the real thing, opened his mouth, his brow knotted with tension but several others smirked and pointed at Byron. Keeping my expression severe, I looked straight at him. He wasn’t as na?ve as his Moncrieffe friend and I could already see the angry recognition in his eyes that his buddies had hired a stripper to make the evening more entertaining. His reaction sent him up a notch in my estimation – a tiny notch, anyway.

Bob was right: Byron looked painfully tired. He might be dressed to the nines but the shadows under his eyes were very heavy and there was a pallor to his skin that I’d never seen before. I quashed my worries and glared, still in my role as angry policewoman. ‘You’re going to have to explain yourself,’ I said loudly.

Byron, still looking irritated, got to his feet. ‘I don’t want this.’

‘Oh,’ I answered, injecting the tiniest amount of breathiness into my words, ‘you’re going to have to try harder than that.’ I deliberately dropped my gaze to his crotch. ‘The borough of Perth doesn’t enjoy limp responses.’

Laughter rose amongst Byron’s friends. He rolled his eyes. ‘Look,’ he said, in a way that almost made me feel sorry for him, ‘I’ll pay you if you just…’

I walked up to him. ‘Did you just try to bribe a police officer?’ I pulled the handcuffs from by my belt and dangled them in front of him. ‘I think that’s a very serious offence.’

He raised his hands to try to get me to back off and in one swift movement, I snapped the cuffs round his wrists. Now he was even more pissed off. I gave him a tiny shove, forcing back onto his chair, then I lifted my foot, nudged his legs apart and rested my shoe on the edge of the seat, right in front of his groin.

Catcalls rose all around us but this time I barely heard them. Byron was mine. ‘You’ve been a naughty boy,’ I purred. ‘But I’ve lost my truncheon. I don’t suppose I could borrow yours? It looks … big.’

The shouts got louder. Byron, glancing around at the crowd, realised that he’d get out of this faster if he just played along. He sagged back, irritation still flickering in the emerald green depths of his eyes. I flicked a hand at the DJ and the music started up again. This tune was much slower than before.

I took three steps backwards and the men formed a circle round me. I wouldn’t have been surprised if the lot of them had started drooling and I’d ended up drowned in puddles of spit. Bleurgh. I played along, however, reaching up and loosening my hair from its tight constraints. I shook out the dark waves that were so unlike my own tresses.

I spotted Jamie in the corner, shrugging to himself then turning away to line up shot glasses. As I started unbuttoning my blouse, he poured vodka, moving up the line until every glass except one was full. I threw back my head and laughed while he surreptitiously sneaked a bottle of water from his pocket and used that to fill the final glass. Now that was interesting.

I spun round, wiggling my arse, all the while unfastening buttons until I reached my waist. It appeared that I was wearing a very lacy bra that left little to the imagination. I swayed in time to the music, backing up until I was almost sitting on Byron’s lap. I started rubbing against him, half wishing I could see the expression on his face and half hoping the ground would swallow me whole.

I pulled the blouse off my shoulders, intending to slide it down my back, but it caught on the bra strap. I tried to tug it free while still looking sexy; maybe this was going to be harder than I’d realised. I wiggled this way and that; when that didn’t work, I tried to yank the blouse away even if it meant ripping the fabric. From the expressions on a few of the watching faces, my contortions were more like those of a beached whale than a sexy stripper.

I turned my face to Byron’s. ‘You’ll have to use your teeth,’ I breathed.

‘Good grief,’ he muttered. He sighed and then I felt the fabric free itself. He must have used his Telekinesis Gift instead of his mouth. Oh well.

I twisted round until I was facing him, then hovered over his hips and raised my hands, lifting my hair and running my fingers through it. His gaze remained stony cold.

‘Here,’ Jamie said, thrusting a shot glass in between us. He held it to Byron’s lips and the princeling downed it in one as everyone cheered. Suspiciously, I leaned forward and nipped at Byron’s bottom lip with my teeth, my tongue darting out to brush across his mouth. He hissed in annoyance. Taking the hint, I leaned forward to his ear instead, using my curtain of hair to conceal my expression. It was Byron who was sneaking water, not Jamie. I hadn’t been able to taste alcohol on his lips at all – which begged the question why he was supposedly getting pissed.

I moved back slightly, trailing kisses along his neck and back up towards his mouth. Byron didn’t relax; his body was stiff and unyielding and there was no doubt he was hating every second of this. I smirked. I could rise to that challenge.

I twined my arms round his neck, swaying slightly. Jamie pushed another shot at Byron and he dutifully drank it before glaring at his friend and muttering, ‘Get me the hell out of here.’

I pretended to push Jamie away, affording him a saucy wink which inflamed the watching crowd. I wondered what Aifric made of all this. But then, as Byron’s eyes narrowed in disgust and I moved my head down, drawing in his musky scent, I forgot to care. My head dipped and my lips brushed against his once more. I deepened the kiss and pressed against him. With his hands still cuffed, there was little he could do to stop me. Even with our audience, I felt my pulse speed up but he was determined not to respond.