Moonshadow (Moonshadow #1)(79)

Oh, that old thing.

That old understanding she had worked so hard to establish between them last night. This was just supposed to be sex, just an interlude. They weren’t even supposed to like each other.

How had she put it? They had the opportunity to give each other some pleasure. There was nothing more to it than that. It certainly wasn’t his fault that she had gone and changed the rules of the game in her head without him.

Don’t be weird at him, Sophie, she admonished herself fiercely. In terms of pleasure, affection, and a transcendent experience, he’s given you so much more than you had expected or asked for. Don’t ruin it now.

He was studying her too closely, his expression brooding, so she gave him a quick smile and a kiss. “Thank you,” she said. “That was more than I could have expected.”

He scowled. “What the fuck does that mean?”

She blinked. “What do you mean, ‘what the fuck does that mean’? Last night you said you couldn’t give a lover time and attention. Today you repeated it. So okay, I said thank you. Was I supposed to beat my chest and say, oh my God, we had sex in the bathroom? Because if so, I didn’t get the memo.”

He took her head between his hands and said between his teeth, “You said thank you the same way you would thank someone for buying you lunch. You make me crazy.”

She shouted, “I said it was more than I could have expected! What else was I supposed to say?”

In answer, he rose to his feet, grabbed his clothes off the floor, and stalked out. Utterly bewildered, she sat, legs sprawled on the bathroom floor, and watched him leave.

After a few minutes, she stirred to gather up her own clothes. She looked down at them, then started banging the heels of her hands on her forehead again.

Sophie. Sophie. Sophie. This. Is why. You don’t. Kiss assholes. He gives you another orgasm, and all of a sudden you’re in love with him. And somehow you both get naked, because that’s a really bright idea that never goes wrong, and then you start shouting at each other for no comprehensible reason.

After a moment, she set her clothes carefully aside and turned on the shower. She washed away all the evidence of what they had done together, dressed, and got back to work.

Her excuse was, apparently she had no sense.

And his excuse remained exactly what it had always been, inexplicable.





Chapter Sixteen





As evening fell into darkness, clouds amassed on the horizon, and the air grew damp and electric with the energy of impending rain. The puck had disappeared some time ago. Now that Sophie knew what his magic felt like, she could recognize his touch on the wind.

They were going to get a fine storm that night. For someone who was only partially recovered, Robin was exerting a tremendous amount of effort.

At first Sophie thought she would start shouting at Nikolas the moment she laid eyes on him again, but they had no more time to waste on personal issues.

The three of them ate a quick, cold supper. Nikolas slapped meat between two slices of bread and wolfed it down. Gawain ate beans out of the can while he stood at the kitchen counter. Sophie followed Nikolas’s example and ate as much of a sandwich as she could choke down past the nerves tightening her stomach.

“Robin might be able to wash away your scents with his storm,” Sophie said worriedly, “but he’s also exposing himself. If I can sense his magic on the wind, others will be able to as well.”

“If they’re still anywhere in the vicinity, they’ll be out searching for him.” Nikolas’s expression had turned grim. “We have to plan on it and tell the others to hurry. This night could turn ugly.”

Taking his warning to heart, she double-checked the spells she had painted on her arms earlier to make sure they were still viable, and she pulled the Glock out of the micro gun safe, inspected it quickly, and tucked it in the waistband of her jeans at the small of her back.

A gun tucked in the small of the back was not only uncomfortable, it was insecure. It could slip out her waistband in a struggle, and she would have preferred a proper holster, but she hadn’t brought one with her from the States and they hadn’t thought to give her one. She would just have to make do. Last, she slipped extra ammunition into each front pocket. She didn’t want to risk running into one of those monstrous Hounds without being prepared.

Using the wheelbarrow Gawain had found in the shed behind the cottage, they transported things from the cottage to the manor house. They didn’t bother to sort everything in the great hall but stacked things in haphazardly to organize later.

They emptied out the kitchen—all the food, the dishes, pots and pans, the table and chairs, and even the dishwashing liquid. Sophie dragged her luggage across the lawn, while Nikolas swung the settee onto his back and jogged it over. Gawain followed shortly afterward with the armchair balanced on his shoulder while he tucked the sitting room table under one arm.

While Sophie cleaned out the linen closet—sheets, blankets, bedspreads, towels and washcloths, laundry soap and toilet paper—and dumped everything into the wheelbarrow, the men insisted on moving all the bedroom furniture as well, even the bed frame.

“You’re already giving up enough as it is,” Nikolas said over her protests. “The least we can do is make sure you get a comfortable bed to sleep in.”

Gawain even walked his Harley into the great hall. He said to Sophie, “The bike won’t work in the land magic, but at least no one can vandalize or disable it while it’s in the house, so we’ll have it available just in case.”