Page 42 of Love's a Witch
“Henry, this is Sloane. She’s a terror, so don’t let her near any sharp objects. Assume she’s trying to kill me at all times.”
My mouth dropped open as I rounded on Knox.
“Excuse me. I would be far more inventive with my murderous intentions than to simply knife you in the back.”
“Nevertheless, best to remove the easy threats.”
“As you wish, sir.” Henry bowed to me and closed the doors behind us, cutting off the icy wind that pushed me forward, and warmth cocooned me as I craned my neck to look up at the high ceiling decorated with a mural of dragons in mid-battle. Flames danced in a fireplace, and I gaped at it. A fireplace.In the foyer.Who even knew such things existed?
“I’m not going to compliment you on your mural, but if Iwereto compliment you, I’d note the excellent workmanship.” I stuck my nose in the air.
“Noted.” Knox’s lips quirked, and that sharp tug of lust in my core annoyed me once more. I opened my mouth to speak, but a clattering sound drew my attention.
“What’s—”
My eyes rounded as a miniature Highland coo careened around the corner at top speed, a wheelchair frame rattling around him, his shaggy coat blowing back as he barreled toward us. A tabby cat kept pace at his side.
“Haggis! Stop!” Knox ordered sharply, and the coo skidded to a stop but didn’t manage to catch himself in time. Throwing his body in front of me, Knox caught the coo before he took my knees out and held him tight. “We discussed this.”
I tilted my head around Knox’s shoulder to see Haggis give Knox an aggrieved look.
“Hi, Haggis,” I said, shouldering Knox aside and dropping to my knees to scratch behind Haggis’s ears. The coo tilted his head, leaning into my palm, and made a noise of contentment. “You’re just the cutest, aren’t you?” He bopped his head against my hand, seeming to agree with me.
“He thinks you’re pretty cute too.” I glanced up at Knox, amused, and froze as his eyes heated. From this angle, I knelt before him, his waist directly at my face. Remembering the gifts the goddess had bestowed upon him, my cheeks flamed. Soft fur brushed my hand, and I broke the look, desperate for anything else to take my thoughts away from my attraction to this man.
“And who is this wee one?” I trailed a finger along the back of the cat, scratching at the base of his tail as he arched into my hand.
“This is Oswald. He’s quite proper, or so he’ll have you told, until, of course, a curtain tassel crosses his path.”
“Ah, then the warrior emerges, is that the way of it?”
Oswald bumped his head against my hand, emitting a soft purr, and I smiled. Would Blue get along with these two? It would be funto find out. Except we might not get that chance. Surely I didn’t have to come to the castle more than one time.
Knox shook a bag he’d brought with him, drawing their attention, and I watched with a small smile as he withdrew the toys for them. Haggis immediately took off after the ball, his face a picture of joy, while Oswald pretended indifference to his toy.
“What is it?” I pointed at the box.
“Crinkly paper inside a box. He’s pretending it is beneath him, but wait until we walk away. He’ll stomp all over it.”
Oswald seemed to give Knox a narrowed look before licking his paw and ignoring the box. Threading his hand through my arm, Knox tugged me lightly down a corridor painted a soft, mossy color with a plush carpet covering the stone floors. I tried to ignore how good his body felt next to mine, towering over me, all heat and muscle. Let’s be honest here. I didn’t date often, so being close to a muscled man was indeed a rare thing. I liked it.
A crackle of paper sounded at our backs.
“See?” Knox hissed, and I couldn’t help myself, I giggled. Knox skidded to a stop and looked down at me, eyebrows raised. “Well, I’ll be damned. Was that a laugh, Sloane? Have I died and gone to heaven?”
“Oh, shut up.” I shoved him, my hands pressing against the wall of muscle at his chest, and instantly retreated as heat bloomed. The more distance I kept between myself and this man would be a good thing. “It’s your cat that’s cute, not you.”
“I believe it was ‘charming’ you called me, if I remember correctly?”
“A notion you’ve done a brilliant job of eradicating,” I promised him.
“I suppose we all must fall from grace.” Knox shook his head solemnly, and damn it, I wanted to laugh again. Instead, I turned and studied a painting on the wall. It showed a man with a thick beard and kilt, a bright blue wagon piled high with goods at his back. A sword leaned against his hip, casually, but the man’s eyes remained alert as though trouble were close.
“Ancestor of yours?” I asked, needing a distraction to calm the fluttering of my pulse.
“Aye, he traveled as a tinker of sorts. But in reality, he was a knight. It was an easier way to protect the prince when nobody knew you were part of his guard.”
Something tugged inside me, a knowing, as though this man and this place meant something to me. An echo of a memory, deep-rooted and unrealized, disappeared before I could catch its gossamer train.
