“Good.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Don’t tell me the spirits are whispering sweet nothings in your ear again.”
She hesitated and then shrugged. “They remain uneasy. There’s evil afoot, but they can’t track it down. And yes, before you say it, they know that’s not helpful.”
I grinned. “I’ll have to do better with my replies if they’re now guessing what I’m about to say.”
“They have been hanging about the pair of us for a very long time now.” Her gaze narrowed slightly, then a grin split her lips. “They said it only sometimes feels like a very long time.”
There was nothing much I could say to that, so I got up, retrieved the two small Christmas puds Belle had put on earlier, smothered them in custard and cream, and served them up.
By the time one had rolled around, I was filled to the brim and ready for a nap. I headed upstairs to change, and then grabbed another bag—the one I’d used last time was still sitting in Aiden’s bedroom—shoved in fresh clothes and his present, and then said goodbye to Belle and headed outside to wait.
His truck pulled up a few minutes later, and his look was appreciative as I climbed in. “I’m rather liking all these short dresses you’re wearing of late.”
“Not that I’m doing it specifically for your pleasure, but it’s nice you’ve noticed.” I pulled the small, gift-wrapped box from my bag and handed it to him. “Merry Christmas.”
“Thanks.” He leaned across and kissed me, his lips warm and passionate against mine. “I’m afraid you’ll have to wait until we get back to my place for yours. In my rush to leave enough time to see you this morning, I left it sitting on the kitchen counter.”
“Oh, very smooth, Ranger.”
“But true.”
He unwrapped the present and then picked up the plaited leather charm inside. It had been made of three different colored leathers and copper, and basically looked no different to the leather neck-cords I’d seen many of the younger wolves wearing.
“Do you like it?” I asked.
“I do, but I’m gathering it’s no ordinary neck-cord.”
“No, it has every protection spell I know woven into it. It’ll protect you from ill-intent, evil spirits, and most curses except for those created by blood witches. And you can shower in it.”
He quickly slipped it on and then kissed me again, this time taking his time. By the time we’d come up for air, my pulse was racing and desire pounded through my veins. This evening suddenly seemed a very long way away.
“I need to stop kissing you like that—”
“No,” I quickly cut in, “you don’t.”
He grinned. “When I’m working and can’t rush you off somewhere to complete what we just started.”
“There, there.” I leaned across to pat his thigh comfortingly. His muscles twitched at the contact, and I couldn’t help noticing his baggy jeans suddenly weren’t—at least around the crotch area. “As the saying goes, anything worth having is worth waiting for.”
“I’ve a more apt saying for you—waiting is the rust of the soul. Or, in this case, the loins.”
I laughed. “If you waited over a damn year, you can wait six hours.”
He shoved the car into gear and pulled out of the parking spot. “To be precise, five hours, twenty-three minutes, and fifteen seconds. Not that I’m counting or anything.”
I was, but I wasn’t about to admit that. “So, where are we going?”
He shifted slightly and pulled a piece of paper out of the back pocket of his jeans. “Here’s the list Ashworth gave me.”
I did my best to ignore the warmth lingering on the paper as I unfolded it. “Tea and Tinctures, A Pot of Magic, The Tea Cauldron, and The Black Samovar.” I frowned. “What the hell is a samovar?”
“It’s a traditional metal container—basically, an urn—that’s used in Russia to heat water.”
“And how do you know this random fact?”
His grin flashed. “I googled it. Some of them were quite fancy—and more than a few actually had a traditional-looking teapot sitting on the top of them.”