Page 24 of Wolf's Keep

As platters and bowls emptied and conversations wound down, the servants bid their farewells, retiring for the night, the remains of the meal disappearing from the table. Erin rose to leave.

“Stay,” said Gaharet. “We should talk.”

Erin sank back down into her seat. He poured her another goblet of wine, and she took a sip, the sweet, fruity liquid sliding down the back of her throat. The fire crackled, oil lamps flickered, a quiet settling as the vast room emptied leaving the two of them alone.

Erin fiddled with the stem of her goblet. “As much as I appreciate the offer, I really don’t need you to provide any drawing materials.”

He gave a nonchalant shrug of his shoulder. “It is my pleasure to provide you with things to make your stay more pleasant.”

“I won’t be staying long.”

He smiled at her, his amusement at her determination clear.

“You said you weren’t keeping me prisoner.”

“And I asked you where you would go.”

“Home,” she said, crossing her arms across her chest. “Back to my world, my own time. Where I belong.”

Erin’s throat tightened at the thought of home. The team would be frantic. Would they find her phone and clipboard at the top of the stairs? Her kit open beside the bones, her brush abandoned near the wolf’s skull? Would they read her translation of the Theban inscription and wonder what the hell?

“Tell me more about this world of yours,” he said, relaxing back into his chair.

Erin eyed him across the table. Talking about her world would get her nowhere. She needed answers and letting him control the conversation, extracting information from her, served only to benefit him.

“Perhaps we should talk about your world, being that it’s more relevant to my current situation.”

He chuckled, then took a leisurely sip of his wine, his smile reaching all the way to his eyes.

Nice.

She frowned, chewing on the inside of her lip.

“Very well.” He rested his elbow on the arm of his chair, his chin on his fist. “What is it you would like to know? I assume you have extensive knowledge from your studies. There can be little that I can add to your understanding that you cannot glean from your surroundings.” He indicated the room, the wall hangings, the keep itself.

She shrugged. “True. Your keep is very interesting. I would love the chance to see more of it before I go.”

“You are welcome to explore as much as you wish.”

“Thank you.” She would take him up on that offer. Her professional curiosity demanded it, but the moment she found a way to return home, anything she’d yet to discover would remain that way.

“What I don’t know”—she paused, placing crossed arms on the table, leaning toward him—“what I’d really like to know…is what soured between you and the Comte de Anjou?”

For an instant, his smile slipped, his eyes widening.Gotcha! She knew it. Comte Lothair and Gaharet d’Louncrais had fallen out. As quickly as his smile disappeared, it reappeared.

“I am not sure I understand your meaning.”

The hell he doesn’t.

“Well, you were the adviser to the comte. He consulted you on almost everything and then—” She held out her hands, palm up.

He sat up straighter in his chair, staring at her across the table, an intensity burning in his eyes. And there he was—the warrior, the dominant male, the aggressor. She’d almost forgotten he existed, lulled by his relaxed manner at dinner, his easy smile and his laugh.

“Whatexactlywere you searching for at Langeais Keep?”

Erin stared into her wine, twirling the goblet in her fingers. She raised it to her lips and took a long sip. Placing it carefully on the table in front of her, she looked up, meeting his gaze, thrusting her chin out. “Tell me about the amulet.”

“You must have had cause to excavate at Langeais. Tell me why.”

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