“I’d like to solidify my plans.”
He’d like to solidify the palm of his hand across her arse. Preferably when it was bare. Finn crossed to the window and drew apart the curtains. The gardens behind the house were coated with a fine dusting of snow. “The snow has already started to cover the ground. So, even if Robin sent word, we’d probably not be ready to leave here for a few days. Benny said his mother thinks it’s going to snow heavily.”
“How would she know?” Claire’s dark little brows drew together.
“She’s older and wiser than you.”
“Someone’s growing surly.” She shrugged and went back to her book. But then her head darted up. “If you’re bored, you could give me my magic dust, and I could do some tricks to entertain you.” She looked almost giddy at the idea.
“No.”
“Why not?”
He patted his pocket, where the vial of dust was still safely hidden. “Do I look like an idiot?”
She tilted her head at him. “Well, as a matter of fact…” She blinked those innocent green eyes at him.
He wanted to strangle her and they had only been there for a few hours. What would it be like after a few days? He’d be ready to brave the weather just to hand her over to someone else to take care of her.
***
Claire watched closely as he poured himself another drink. He’d already had two glasses. And was pouring a third. Perhaps there was a chance she could get her dust back after all. He might lower his guard if he were foxed. She could only hope.
She looked back down at her book and forced herself to turn the page. She hadn’t read a single word all afternoon. She’d been too busy studying his actions. He was a fidgety man who obviously had a hard time sitting still. He was also almost as observant as she was, if his keen gaze was any indication. More than once she’d felt the scorch of his hot glance.
“What would you be doing if you were at home?” A better question was probably who he would be entertaining. But she didn’t dare ask that question.
He shrugged.
She closed her book and regarded him over her bent knees. “What are you drinking?”
He gazed into his glass for a moment. “Whiskey.”
“Would you pour a glass for me?” She dropped her feet to the floor.
“Absolutely not.”
She startled. “Well, that was rude.”
“The last thing I need is an inebriated faerie on my hands.”
She raised her feet back up onto the settee. “Well, the last thing you’d need is a personality,” she murmured to herself.
He set his glass down with a clunk and glared at her.
“I didn’t ask to be here,” she reminded him.
“Nor did I.” He continued to glare.
***
She really was startlingly beautiful. When she kept her mouth shut. Unfortunately, she’d done that most of the afternoon, and now that the sun was setting, Finn realized how much of a predicament he was in. He had an irritated faerie, a pocketful of magic dust, and orders to keep her out of sight until Robin returned with Sophia from the land of the fae. It would be so much easier if Claire wasn’t quite so comely. He could get used to looking at her.
Until she spoke, that is. The chit had a rapier-sharp tongue. “Can I have my dust? Please?”
She tried a smile that would melt a normal man’s heart. Good thing he wasn’t a normal man. “No.”
“Fine,” she