Demon on a Distant Shore (25 page)

“Who is the sissy girlie panties now?” he said, using one of my favorite
you’re a wuss
male-put-downs.

“I am not a sissy.” I wanted to laugh. The phrase sounded weird coming from Royal’s mouth. I wrapped my arms around his waist so I could snuggle against his damp chest. He held me away, opened his coat, then pulled me in. The warmth of his body came through his shirt. Oh, bliss.

“Okay, I admit it, I’m a girl.”

I felt his sigh in his chest. “I cannot help but notice.”

“And I do wear girlie panties.”

Something deeper than a sigh, more a rumble. “Very girlie. I have an admission too. I’m partial to your girlie panties.”

The absurdity of standing in the English countryside surrounded by ancient monoliths, commenting on my panties, was more than I could take. Pressing my mouth to his sodden jacket, I burst out in chuckles.

When I recovered, he brushed water off my cheek, then my chin, then flicked a drop off the tip of my nose. “Do you want to see the village?”

“I’m soaked right through. I’m
cold!
”

“I was going to suggest we wait in the local pub, but this rain does not look like it will pass anytime soon. We may as well relax in The Hart and Garter.”

“I thought you were all fired up to come here.”

“In the fog, yes. Rain, no.” He hunched his shoulders. “I thought it would be creepy.”

“Creepy! You like creepy?”

“Who does not?”

I rolled my eyes. “The inn has satellite TV. I bet we can find something creepy on there for you. The sooner we get back, the better. We don’t all have bodies like radiators. I need to get into dry clothes and warm up.”

He twitched one eyebrow.

I knew what he was thinking. I smiled slyly. “Wanna help me?”

We dashed back to the car. As we buckled in, I looked at the massed trees and underbrush around the field. “Sally suggested we go through the wood.”

“Do you want to?”

The rain had eased a little, but clouds were still dark and heavy and I thought of all those sodden leaves dripping water down the back of my neck. “Nah. Let’s go.”

We traipsed in The Hart and Garter, wet all the way through our clothes to the skin. The seat cushions in the car would take a long time to dry.

“Oh dear,” Sally said.

I gave her a sick smile. “No fog. No atmosphere. An awful lot of rain though.”

She glanced at the nearest window and the dense gray fog muffling the inn. “Did you look around the place?”

“Long enough to get soaking wet. But no, we didn’t stay there more than five minutes.”

“That is a shame. You will have to go back another day.”

We slopped upstairs to our room. Sally had been in there. My clean clothes hung in the wardrobe and she had left my neatly folded undies on the bed. I took them to the dresser and put them away, except one set. They were soft and warm, smelling faintly of lavender. I couldn’t wait to get into dry clothing.

I claimed the shower first. I stood under a cascade almost hot enough to slough skin. It felt wonderful. I could have stayed in there for hours, but poor wet Royal waited his turn. I stepped from the shower and over my pile of soaked clothes, wrapped myself in a towel and went in the bedroom. Royal walked past me with his wet clothes in one hand.
All
his wet clothes. I swear he goes around naked just to see me walk into furniture.

I would have waited in my towel for him, but my hair dripped down my back, so I put on my old T-shirt. I stood near the bed, hairbrush in hand when he came from the bathroom with a towel around his waist.

He stood behind me and took the brush. “Let me.”

I didn’t object. He brushed my hair, working up to my scalp, careful not to tug when he found a tangle. That done, he separated the length into four sections. He worked the bristles in just above where his warm hand closed on one thick tress. Then he slowly, slowly, slid his hand down the length, following with the brush. My hair dried a little more with each sweep of his hand.

A sensuous languor rolled over me from the top of my head all the way down to my toes. I stood there, mesmerized, as his hands worked magic.

The brush hit the floor with a thunk. He parted the hair on my nape. His lips fairly sizzled on my skin. I sighed and leaned back on him. His fingers splayed on my abdomen, slid up to briefly cup the underside of my breasts, caressing my nipples with his thumbs, then down to my thighs, back up beneath my T-shirt.

Caught up in the moment, I barely heard his voice, gone low and husky. “I should verify your panties really are girlie.”

I guided his hands. “The girliest I own.”

Chapter Thirteen

I took another bite of cheese on thick, chewy bread and popped a pickled onion in my mouth. “Damn this is good!”

Royal’s eyes crinkled. “Everything tastes good when you work up an appetite.”

We sat at a trestle table in the bar. I swallowed, beamed at him, popped in another crisp, crunchy onion and chewed. He took a swig of dark beer and wiped the foam from his mouth with a paper napkin.

Carrie stood at the bar ogling a young blond man in khaki shorts, sandals and a colorful poncho despite the dismal weather. He did not wear a shirt beneath the poncho. No doubt that’s why Carrie stood so close.

After spending so much of our brief stay inside the inn, the old place felt familiar, the ambience comforting. The fog brought the evening on early so all the old wall lamps glowed. Fat candles in octagonal holders of gold-tinted glass on each table added to the effect. The polished wood of floor, bar, stools, tables and benches shone like glossy chestnuts. The inn was filling up, most of the tables taken. Voices chattered and murmured. A cheer came from a group of guys playing darts in the
Games Room
.

Royal enthusiastically dug his fork into a chunk of pork pie and sent peas skipping and rolling off the plate. I watched one come to rest on the edge of the table, picked it up and flicked it at him. “Bad boy. Where are your manners?”

He caught the pea and put it on the edge of his plate. “Want to put me over your knee?” he asked with a sly grin.

I tried to compose my features. “No.”

“Can I put you over
my
knee?”

“What is it with you wanting to put me over your knees? You know I don’t go in for the kinky stuff.”

“Kinky?”

“Spanking and that shit.”

“Did I say spanking?”

The image my mind created of me on Royal’s knees doing something other than spanking sent it haywire. In fact, a whole load of images came near to putting it in overload.

“Do you mind if I join you?”

I recognized the voice.
Yes I do. Go away
. My good mood abruptly dissipated. But I took a little breath and plastered a smile on my face before I turned it up. After all, Royal had his arm around my shoulders, hugging me close.

Lorraine, in a tight outfit of green jacket and matching pants over a cream camisole which barely covered anything, slid along the spare bench till she sat opposite Royal.

Suddenly at the table, Carrie loomed over Lorraine. “Her again! The nerve of the woman!” she chirped.

Lorraine feigned a shiver. “Brr. Have you been out there? Wouldn’t think it’s summer would you, ‘specially after the heat we’ve had.”

Royal smiled warmly at her. Damn him. “It is rather dank. Reminds me a little of London.”

Now why did he say that? It gave her an opening.

She chuckled. “Ah, London. Remember when we got lost in Hyde Park? The fog was so thick.”

I couldn’t imagine Royal getting lost in a London park. Another country, maybe, but not an itty bitty park.

“But you weren’t really lost, were you. I was, but not you. Just pretending so I’d be scared and. . . .” She met my eyes as her words trailed away. I could imagine the end of the sentence. “. . . .
and cuddle up to you
.” Or something similar.

I kept my smile.
I will not smash you in the face. I will not break your kneecap under the table. I will not reach across and ram this pickled onion up your nostril.

Yeah, I had it all together. Good on me. But she had better not push her luck. A man might not cotton on, but any woman would know the age-old game she played.

I could play that game. Royal and I held hands beneath the table. I brought our hands up to the tabletop and slowly rubbed my thumb over his knuckles as I shifted to snuggle in his side. He smiled and bent his head to kiss the top of mine.

Lorraine’s smile blinked out. At that moment she became transparent to me. I could see clean inside her delusional little brain.

“Where does your mother live?”

She blinked and frowned slightly. “Abbey Estates, on the Marlborough road.”

“Ah. And whereabouts in Little Barrow does your brother live?”

She waved a hand at the front entrance. “He has a bungalow on the outskirts.”

“Ah,” I repeated noncommittally.

“What have you been doing with yourself then?” she asked Royal.

Royal replied with another smile. “We went to Avebury today.”

“Avebury in the fog. What fun!” she gushed.

I wrinkled my nose. “No fog, just a lotta rain. Got soaking wet so we came back here pretty smartly. Had to have a nice, long, hot shower.” I smiled at Royal. “Didn’t we, Sweetie.”

With a swift swivel back and forth of my eyes, I saw color rising in her face, her mouth set, and Royal giving me a look like he wondered if my doppelganger sat at his side.

Then I mentally chastised myself.
What are you doing, girl
? Deliberately trying to make Lorraine jealous, that’s what. I’d never experienced the emotion before, never had someone blatantly go after my man and never had my hackles rise over another woman.

The novelty bemused me, so I missed their conversation. I came back to the present to hear Lorraine speaking of a party she and Royal attended. “It was such fun, Royal. I hope we can do it again sometime.”

Over my dead body.

Royal’s face wore a puzzled frown. Was he finally catching on?

“I’m going to the loo. Coming?” Lorraine said to me.

“I don’t need to.”

“Oh, come on, it’s a girl thing.”

Yeah, I knew, although I’ve never understood why women in a party feel they have to visit the ladies room together. Janie told me it’s so they can discuss the men they are with.

I narrowed my eyes. She gave me a smile sweet enough to curdle my stomach.

I slipped from beneath Royal’s arm and slid to the end of the bench. “Be right back,” I told him as I got to my feet.

He gave me a
what’s going on?
look, which I pretended not to see.

I followed Lorraine to the passageway and the inn’s fanciest
Ladies
.
This should be interesting
.

Carrie came hot on my heels. I made a shooing motion with my hand and glared fiercely. She stopped walking with an irritated little shake of her head.
You stay!
I mouthed. I didn’t need any distraction from Carrie if Lorraine and I went mano-a-mano.