Jonah seemed irritated that I hadn’t jumped at the chance of spending some time with him. Judging by the lines on his forehead as he screwed up his face, you could tell that he didn’t enjoy, and wasn’t accustomed to, having to work for attention. This was someone who was used to being in charge, getting what he wanted the way he wanted it and whenever he wanted it.
“The last time you did that, I ended up pinned up against a wall, so I think I’ll pass.”
“Fine.” He made for the door and I immediately felt guilty for reminding him that I hadn’t quite let go of the incident in the cottage.
“Jonah, perhaps you could take me for a drink sometime? I hear there’s a pub near here?” I softened, wanting to show a little more willingness.
He glanced at me over his shoulder as he went for the handle. “Perfect. It’s a date.”
I thought he almost sniggered and it quickly dawned on me that he had fooled me into agreeing to go drinking with him, rather than escorting me on a mundane tour. I was annoyed with myself; I would have to learn to be sharper.
I turned my back to him, and just before he pulled the door, he just couldn’t help himself. “Nice butt, by the way!”
Argh! I was so cross with myself; he was way too cocky. He definitely needed taking down a peg or two, even if he was pretty gorgeous.
I was more cautious dressing after he left, trying to put my new clothes on under the dressing gown, just in case he decided to make a reappearance. I did however take a moment to check out the reflection of my bum in the mirror.
I towel-dried my hair and picked out a mini Mulberry satchel handbag, courtesy of Brooke. I popped the new iPhone and credit card inside, along with the house keys Gabriel had handed to me before I had retired.
From the dresser drawer, I checked on my assortment of fake IDs, including my passport. Ruadhan had ventured into the house in Creigiau after Eligio’s clan had attacked Jonah and me, rescuing my only belongings from my backpack. Gabriel had sent him back provided the coast was clear; he didn’t know what I had left behind. As I imagined Ruadhan searching the levels, I wondered if he had left the property in the same state as the one Gabriel and his Vampires had, as we sped off toward the motorway a few days later. I hoped he hadn’t. Such a waste. However I was pleased to have my documentation; I’d need it if we had to leave the country quickly.
And so, I was ready to face the day.
I wandered down the hall, passing several doors as I went. I hadn’t actually inquired who was staying in each of the rooms. I had hoped Gabriel had put me next to his. I reached the top of the stairs and Gabriel stood at the foot of them, waiting for me.
“Morning.” He beamed.
He looked as luscious as ever; he had styled his blond curls behind his ears today, though a few stray strands still tickled his forehead. I bounced down the many stairs to the foot, where he was leaning his elbow against the wall at the bottom, one leg bent behind the other. I was about to greet him when his grin faltered and his face seemed to fall. I stopped at the last step, positioning me almost at eye level with him. Shuffling uncomfortably, he stared at me with that familiar puzzled look on his face.
“Um, everything okay?” I said.
“Yes, of course.” He picked himself up quickly. “Where did you get that blouse from?”
“Oh, this one was my choice; we found a little vintage shop. You don’t like it?” I said. I started to feel terribly self-conscious, even more so when Gabriel didn’t answer.
Automatically I turned and began making my way back up the stairs. I needed to check my reflection.
“Wait!” He grabbed my arm and brought me back in to him. “It’s quite lovely, really. I was taken aback to see you wearing a style like that. It just reminded me of, well, you.”
He hadn’t meant to say the last part. I wasn’t an idiot.
“It’s old-fashioned, I know; I just liked it. I’m sorry I reminded you of me.” I was deflated.
We continued to stare each other out, neither of us flinching; finally he broke into a laugh at my stubborn expression and, even though I attempted to keep the frosty exterior going, I couldn’t resist and I started laughing too.
“Being reminded of you, the you I knew, is never a bad thing. You just caught me off guard. I was expecting something a little different, that’s all.”
He recovered well and I was quick to forgive him as he stroked my arm with the back of his fingers. I got goose bumps almost immediately at his cool touch. It was strange that sometimes he felt so warm and other times he was ice cold. It was like he could control his temperature to suit.
Joining me on the step, he ran his palm underneath my hair and pressed his opened hand across the keyhole cutout of my blouse, bringing me in a little closer. Grazing my lower back as he swept his hand downwards, he leaned in to me, sweeping my waist-length curls out of the way.
“I think the detail is meant to show off your back. I hope you’re wearing a top underneath because it’s chilly and not because you are trying to cover up your scar?”
Gabriel had a way of hitting the nail on the head. That was, of course, precisely the reason.
“I don’t like it. Even though my hair covers it, I feel more comfortable this way.”
Sighing, I watched him become more troubled for me. “Come on!” he said, lightening the moment. “I have something to show you.”
He found my hand and he led me right down to the back of the house, into a grand library, full of bookcases filled with all types of literature. At the far end, in the bay window overlooking the grounds, sat a beautiful custom-made wooden chessboard placed upon a mahogany table with two leather chairs on either side. It reminded me of an old man’s den.
Sitting me down on a dark green chair, he made his way over to the corner of the room, pulling up a floorboard mysteriously. When he returned, he was clutching a heavy box that he placed carefully next to the board before sitting down opposite me. Opening it, he proceeded to place a set of red and white ivory chess pieces into their rightful positions on the board. He didn’t rush and took his time to put each figure carefully in its correct square. The pieces were hand-carved and quite remarkable, having been kept in immaculate condition, despite their obvious age. He tilted one of the rooks up to me, displaying the stamp underneath on its base.
It read: Calvert, 189, Fleet Street.
For a second, it seemed to mean something to me, but I was grasping at a loose thread; no change there. For once Gabriel answered, looping the thread and tying it neatly in a bow.