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A Lick Of Frost :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 35 из 184As asmall child, before I knew that he disdained me, I'd truly thought him handsome.
"Oh, my God," Nelson said in a breathy voice.
I looked behind myself at her, the wide eyes, the almost slack face. "You've only seen the pictures of him pretending to be human, haven't you?"
"He had red hair and green eyes, not this, not this," she said. Cortez, her boss, took her elbow and got her to a chair. Cortez was angry and was having trouble hiding it. Interesting reaction on his part.
Taranis turned those green-petaled eyes toward the woman. "Few human women have seen me in all my glory in many years. What do you think of me in my true form, pretty girl?"
I was pretty sure that you didn't get to be assistant district attorney in Los Angeles by letting men call you pretty girl. But if Nelson had a problem with it, she didn't say so. She looked besotted with him, drunk with his attention.
Abe came to join us in our huddled group. Galen trailed behind him, looking puzzled. It was Abe who leaned in and whispered, "There is some magic here that is not merely light and illusion. If it were almost anyone else, I would say that he has added love magic to his bag of tricks."
Doyle drew Abe closer to us all, and whispered, "A spell powerful enough that it is affecting Ms. Nelson."
They all agreed.
We hadn't meant to ignore Taranis, but he was so terribly busy flirting with Nelson that it was easy to forget that just because a king is ignoring you doesn't mean that you are allowed to ignore the king.
"I did not come here to be insulted," he said in that thundery voice. Once it would have impressed me, but I'd been intimate with Mistral. He was a storm god, too, but one who could make lightning pour down a hallway inside the faerie mound. Taranis's rumbly voice just couldn't compare to Mistral. In fact, as the men parted so that I could see my uncle more clearly, he looked a little overdone, like a man who's overdressed for a date.
I looked at the men clustered around me, and realized that all of them had touched me, Rhys wrapped around my waist and side; Frost on the other side, arm a little higher; Doyle with his strong dark hands on my face; Abe with his hand on my shoulder so he could lean in and not fall (even sober his balance seemed shaky sometimes). Galen had touched me because he always touched me when he could. It was as if I'd reached a critical mass of touch. I could think. I was no longer besotted like the good Miss Nelson.
"Oh, my God," Nelson said in a breathy voice.
I looked behind myself at her, the wide eyes, the almost slack face. "You've only seen the pictures of him pretending to be human, haven't you?"
"He had red hair and green eyes, not this, not this," she said. Cortez, her boss, took her elbow and got her to a chair. Cortez was angry and was having trouble hiding it. Interesting reaction on his part.
Taranis turned those green-petaled eyes toward the woman. "Few human women have seen me in all my glory in many years. What do you think of me in my true form, pretty girl?"
I was pretty sure that you didn't get to be assistant district attorney in Los Angeles by letting men call you pretty girl. But if Nelson had a problem with it, she didn't say so. She looked besotted with him, drunk with his attention.
Abe came to join us in our huddled group. Galen trailed behind him, looking puzzled. It was Abe who leaned in and whispered, "There is some magic here that is not merely light and illusion. If it were almost anyone else, I would say that he has added love magic to his bag of tricks."
Doyle drew Abe closer to us all, and whispered, "A spell powerful enough that it is affecting Ms. Nelson."
They all agreed.
We hadn't meant to ignore Taranis, but he was so terribly busy flirting with Nelson that it was easy to forget that just because a king is ignoring you doesn't mean that you are allowed to ignore the king.
"I did not come here to be insulted," he said in that thundery voice. Once it would have impressed me, but I'd been intimate with Mistral. He was a storm god, too, but one who could make lightning pour down a hallway inside the faerie mound. Taranis's rumbly voice just couldn't compare to Mistral. In fact, as the men parted so that I could see my uncle more clearly, he looked a little overdone, like a man who's overdressed for a date.
I looked at the men clustered around me, and realized that all of them had touched me, Rhys wrapped around my waist and side; Frost on the other side, arm a little higher; Doyle with his strong dark hands on my face; Abe with his hand on my shoulder so he could lean in and not fall (even sober his balance seemed shaky sometimes). Galen had touched me because he always touched me when he could. It was as if I'd reached a critical mass of touch. I could think. I was no longer besotted like the good Miss Nelson.