Walking over, he settled his phone in her outstretched palm and allowed his hand to brush hers. He felt that slight contact right down to his bare toes. He took note that her toes had curled a little, too, and he hoped that was all his fault.
She read the post. “How about taking out the misguided part and just saying I’m a worthy opponent? Would you do that?”
He noticed how sexy she looked sprawled on the sofa, considered the two glasses of wine on the coffee table, and made his decision. “Go ahead. Fix it.”
“You’d trust me to do that for you?”
He shrugged. “If you sabotage that post, then I suppose I’ll just have to send another one labeling you a dirty player.”
“Yeah, you would, too.”
“Damn right I would.”
Her fingers moved over the keys. “Okay, it’s sent. And you have almost no battery left.” She held out the phone.
He took it, once again making sure that he touched her soft skin in the process. When he checked the post that came through, it merely said that she was a worthy opponent. She hadn’t tricked him.
He glanced up. “I’m going to shut this down. I think there’s enough battery left to make a quick phone call if we need to. How about you?”
She smiled at him. “Mine’s totally dead.”
She’d tricked him, after all. “So I could have won. You would have been literally powerless to stop me if I’d decided to break the tie.”
She sat up and reached for her wine. “I don’t ever consider myself powerless.” She gazed at him over the rim of her glass as she sipped from it.
His groin tightened. “I don’t suppose you do. Remind me never to underestimate your power.” He busied himself with the fire and decided against adding another log. If the rest of the evening went as he hoped, he wanted this particular fire to die down while a different sort was created under the mirrored canopy.
When at last he joined her on the sofa, he left a civilized distance between them. Cozying up to her right away would lack finesse. He hadn’t used much of that when he’d kissed her earlier, so he intended his present approach to be more subtle. Her surrender would be more complete if she came to him. He wasn’t sure whether she would.
For the first time in his life, he lusted after a female who was as smart—well, probably smarter than he was. He picked up his wineglass. “Do you suppose we can come up with a toast we agree on, or should we just drink the damn wine and forget about toasting anything?”
“Oh, I think we need a toast.” She lifted her glass. “To worthy opponents.”
“You consider me a worthy opponent, as well?” That pleased him.
She looked into his eyes. “I do. I confess I enjoy matching wits with you.”
“Glad to hear it, because I enjoy matching wits with you. To worthy opponents.” He touched his glass to hers and drank.
“I suppose that round of Sniffs will keep Angela Sapworthy busy for a while.” Kate took another swallow of her wine.
“I’m sure she’ll be dissecting every word for hidden meanings and innuendos.”
“But I think we established our mutual antagonism and dedication to our respective causes, don’t you?”
“If we didn’t, we gave it a good try.” He wasn’t sure where she was going with her comments, but she might be headed exactly where he wanted her. Anticipation fizzed in his veins.
“Before my phone died, I checked the time.” Gazing into the fire, she raised her glass and took another sip.
“And?” Bedtime was what he was thinking.
“And it’s morning already in Scotland.” She glanced over at him. “You’ve put up a brave front, but I have to believe you’re dead on your feet. I think you should go into that bedroom and get some sleep.”
“I agree with some of that statement.”
“I’ll take the sofa, and—”
“Hold on a minute, there, lass. I think you took a wrong turn. You’ll not be bedding down on the sofa. If anyone does, it’ll be me.”
“That makes no sense. I’m smaller and will fit better. Besides that, I didn’t just travel halfway around the world.”
“So I’m to go into the bedroom and get some sleep and leave you here on the sofa to do the same.” It wasn’t going to happen like that, but he wanted to be clear about what she’d said.
She nodded. “It’s the intelligent thing to do, and I know you’re smart, Duncan. You’ll have a big day tomorrow, and because I consider you a worthy opponent, I want you to be at your best. I don’t want you stumbling around because you’re tired.”
“I’d think it would suit your purposes if I’m not up to par.”
“Not really. I don’t want attendees to start agreeing with your position because your dedication in the face of exhaustion turns you into a hero. I want this fight to be even.”
“What if my ability to function is compromised by extreme sexual frustration?”
She laughed. “Nice try. But I’m sure you can subdue your sexual urges in order to be an effective leader in the morning, especially if you get some sleep.”
Now it was his turn to drink his wine and stare into the fire. He wondered if she played chess. She’d be good at it if she did. She’d neatly maneuvered him into a corner. He could either walk into that bedroom alone and prove that he placed duty ahead of his appetites, or he would have to admit that he didn’t give a hang about duty and had no control over his impulses.
Although he didn’t care for either course of action, he had little choice. He had to agree to sleep in that bed—with its red hangings, fluffy pillows, and overhead mirror—without her.
Draining his glass, he stood. “You’ll need pillows and blankets. God knows that bed has pillows to spare, and an extra blanket or two must be stored somewhere.”
“So you agree to my plan?” She stroked the stem of her wineglass.
He really wished she wouldn’t do that, especially now that they wouldn’t be rolling around on that big bed together. “I agree with your plan. I don’t like it, but you make a valid point about the conference beginning tomorrow. I owe it to my followers to be—”
“That’s all I needed to know.” Setting her wineglass on the coffee table, she also stood. “You’ve passed my personal test, Duncan MacDowell. You placed duty to your cause ahead of your immediate personal desire, and I admire that.”
“Aye, but admiration is cold comfort when—”
“What do you say we enjoy the best of both worlds?”
He stared at her with no idea of what was coming next. “How?”
“Let’s occupy that big bed together. We’ll have some fun and then we’ll sleep. How does that sound?”
His heart slammed against his ribs. “Good.” He was amazed that he had the power of speech. “It sounds good.”
No question about it, she was definitely smarter than he was. But it didn’t matter if she was a certified genius. She hadn’t had sex in more than a year, and when it came to giving a female pleasure, he’d pit his skills against those of any male, Were or human. Very soon, the scales would be balanced.
She glanced at the fireplace where embers still glowed. “We should bank the fire.”
“Aye. I’ll do it.” And he’d take a moment to rein himself in, as well. She’d invited him to share a bed with her, but if he rushed the process, he could still ruin the experience for both of them. “You go ahead. I’ll tend to the fire and turn off the lights.”
Her eyes taunted him with the promise of heaven. “I’ll be waiting.”
He clenched his fists to keep from grabbing her as she turned and walked into the bedroom. “I won’t be long.”
Chapter 6
WERECON 2012:
STILLMAN, MACDOWELL CREATE
SNIFFER BLITZ
Exclusive Wereworld Celebrity Watch report
by Angela Sapworthy
DENVER—WereCon2012 attendees are buzzing about the recent outpouring of Sniffs from the smart phones of WOOF leader Duncan MacDowell and HOWL leader Kate Stillman. As reported here earlier, Stillman and MacDowell remain trapped in a cabin during the killer storm that continues to buffet the Denver area.
Those Sniffs indicate the antagonism between the rivals is at the boiling point! Stillman accused MacDowell of having a gigantic ego. In response, MacDowell Sniffed, Kate Stillman is laced too tight. This reporter spoke with Kate’s cousin Neil Stillman, who has known Kate all her life.
“My cousin means well,” he said. “But MacDowell’s right. It’s like Kate has a corset around her mind when it comes to progress. She needs to wake up and realize that change is coming, and my great-aunt, Elizabeth Stillman, agrees with me. I pity MacDowell being stuck in that cabin with her, because she can be a handful. I have the childhood scars to prove it!”
Meanwhile the Howlers rally around their leader and congratulate her on her barrage of Sniffs. Even though the Sniffer battle ended in a tie, Howlers claim victory after MacDowell sent the final Sniff acknowledging that Stillman is a “worthy opponent.” His grudging respect demonstrates the class we all expect from that hunky Were!
In related news, sources have revealed that Kate Stillman’s popular dating site Furthebest.com was down for several hours today and hackers are the suspected cause. Howlers have been quick to blame Woofers for the apparent sabotage, but Woofers deny all knowledge of the incident.
This reporter is on the edge of her seat as the battle between Howlers and Woofers begins in earnest tomorrow morning! Will Kate Stillman and Duncan MacDowell be in attendance? And will they be in one piece? Watch this space! Or follow me on Sniffer @newshound.
Kate held herself together until she was inside the bedroom. Then she hurried on through and into the bathroom. After turning on the light, she closed the door, braced both hands against the tile counter, and gasped for air.
She’d wanted Duncan to think she was in control of the situation, but in reality she felt like a rookie driver at her first Indy 500. She was not a virginal Were by any means, but she’d never encountered the likes of Duncan MacDowell.
From that first kiss she’d known how much he wanted her, and yet despite the lure of the fantasy bed, he’d been willing to give up sex for his cause. Until that moment, she hadn’t been sure how tonight would end. But his sense of honor had seduced her far more effectively than broad shoulders and a dazzling smile. His reluctant sacrifice had tipped the scales.
So now she’d said yes to him, and she was shaking like a leaf, both from nerves and lust. So far she’d held her own by playing mental games. But she couldn’t forget that his jet-lagged brain must be operating at half power. She’d been lucky to catch him at a disadvantage.
She had the distinct feeling that once their clothes were off and they’d climbed into that bed draped with red velvet, her advantage would disappear. His sexual prowess wouldn’t be affected by jet lag. He’d fall back on his natural abilities that he’d honed while making love to dozens of females, both Were and human.
He might assume that she was equally worldly because of all the sexual tips she’d offered in her book, but she’d gathered those tips by interviewing other female Weres. Only a few of the suggestions came from personal experience. Now was not the time to confess that.
But like the rookie at the Indy 500, she was eager for the race to start. Now that she’d decided to go for it, she acknowledged that having this private time with Duncan in a cabin designed for passion was an opportunity that would never come again. If she’d passed it up, which she’d come close to doing, she might have regretted it for the rest of her life.
As she opened the door and walked back into the bedroom, she heard him shoveling ash over the remaining embers in the fireplace. She wanted him to be thorough because the last thing they needed to do was cause more damage to the Stewarts’ love nest.
Although she’d automatically flipped on the chandelier when she’d first rushed in, it created far more illumination than she was comfortable giving to this scene. How odd that the Stewarts had installed a dimmer switch in the kitchen and none in here.
She turned off the chandelier, but there was no alternative, no little bedside reading lamps to give a subdued effect. Perhaps the Stewarts didn’t read in bed because they had more interesting things to do there.
Eventually she settled on using the bathroom light and closed the door so only a sliver peeked through. Better. Next she stripped off her clothes, doing it quickly because she wanted to be in bed and under the covers when Duncan came in. Considering the boldness with which she’d suggested this rendezvous, she should greet him with the chandelier blazing while she lounged nak*d on the bed.
She wished she possessed that kind of daring. It would make him do a double take, and she’d love to see him at a loss for words once again. That moment in the living room when she’d suggested they share the bed had been a real triumph.
But she feared that she couldn’t pull off a stunt like greeting him wearing nothing but the rainbows given off by the crystal chandelier. And if she couldn’t do it without blushing and trembling, then she didn’t want to attempt it at all.
Besides, even though they’d turned up the heat, the cabin was still on the cool side. Presenting herself nak*d in chandelier light would lose its effectiveness if she was also covered in goose bumps. Consequently, the moment her clothes were off, she dived under the covers, scattering pillows and gasping at the icy feel of the sheets against her warm skin.
Then she rolled to her back, pulled the covers to her chin, and waited, her heartbeat drumming in her ears. Her breathing seemed exceptionally loud, too. She tried taking shallower breaths, but that made her feel dizzy.
Lights flicked out in the other room, and footsteps approached. She held her breath and then caught herself doing it when she grew light-headed again. Passing out wouldn’t be a good move right now.