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"Really?" Roxy asked. "You can do that? Cool!"
"I was joking," I said.
"Oh, you poor thing, of course you don't have any nice dresses with you. I forgot that you're just visiting, and unlike some people I can name"—Joy thi
Roxy eyed me. "I think she's too big for anything I have."
My cheeks flared up at the implication. "No, please, it's not that I didn't have room in my bag for any dresses; I just don't own any."
"It's true, I've seen what's in her wardrobe. Nothing but blue jeans and those dreadful shapeless athletic trousers. I've tried to tell her the importance of a proper lady's wardrobe, but she became very snappish with me. Why, the state of her undergarments alone would drive off any man of taste." Esme suddenly realized who was sitting next to her and smiled a barracuda smile at Christian.
His eyes did an amazing little twinkling thing that pooled heat deep inside me.
I slumped my shoulders in defeat. When my bras and undies became the topic of polite conversation, I knew it was time to go book myself a room in the Old Summoner's Home.
"Gotcha," Roxy said. "I understand completely. The only reason I wear dresses is because Richard—that's my husband; he's a doll—likes me in them. But if I had my druthers, I'd be just like you, slouching around in comfy old clothes and not caring how bad anyone thinks I look."
"I just can't take you anywhere, can I?" Joy asked as she threw a muffin at Roxy. "Apologize, you idiot!"
"For what?"
"Nothing. It doesn't matter. If you don't mind, I think I'll be taking Esme and Mr. Woogums home now." I looked at Christian and gave him a toothy smile. "I have a pair of black wool pants, if that will soothe your delicate sensibilities. They're the dressiest thing I brought."
He rose when I did. "I will be happy to escort you to your hotel, and thence to a restaurant for a little di
"Oooh, di
He smiled at Roxy. "I would spend the entire evening fending off the hordes of your admirers."
She fa
I decided not to comment on that. "I'm quite capable of returning to my hotel by myself."
"I have no doubt that you are. I will feel more comfortable, however, if I were to see you safely there before we leave for the evening."
"We would be delighted to have your company," Esme told him as she stood and adjusted the tie on her bathrobe. "A gentleman's protection can never be undesirable."
I snorted. "Regardless, I will survive without his attendance."
"I insist on accompanying you."
"You can stuff your insistence where the sun doesn't shine," I said sweetly.
Esme gasped. "Allie! A lady never refers to a gentleman's rectal area, no matter how provoked she might be!"
Christian turned to Joy with his hands spread wide. "You see what I must put up with?"
"Oh, my, he shouldn't have said that." Esme shook her head. Joy and Roxy both nodded their agreement.
"Put up with?" I stalked over to where he stood and glared up at him. "Put up with? No one is asking you to put up with me, Count Chocula. In fact, I'm willing to bet you I could live out the rest of my life quite happily without ever seeing you again, so you can take your put up with and stick it alongside your insistence!"
"Dear, as I mentioned, a lady—"
Christian took a step closer to me, his eyes lit from within with something that felt a lot to my guarded mind like unadulterated fury. His breath fa
Have I mentioned that I detest bossy, controlling men? Really, it was his verbal attack on me that prompted me to do what I did. I'm not proud of it, but I am a survivor. I lived once in the control of a man, terrified to do anything even remotely against his wishes lest the repercussions (almost always involving physical pain) fell upon me, and I had made a solemn vow as I stood over Timothy's lifeless body that I would never again give anyone that sort of power over me.
I thanked Joy for the tea.
"I'm sure we'll be seeing more of you," she answered with a quick glance at Christian. He raised an eyebrow at her. I ground my teeth at the obvious wordless byplay that was going on between the two of them, then stopped when I realized what I was doing.
I plucked a bobble from my sweater.
"Say good-bye, Esme," I said as I made the keeper warding signs over the bobble. I turned my back on everyone to silently speak the words (I hate being watched when I practice my art), then turned back when the bobble glowed with Esme's light. Gathering up my coat, I ignored Christian when he did the same. Roxy chattered beside me as we walked to the front door. With my right hand hidden in front of me, I sketched a series of confining symbols on the door. I walked through the door, holding my breath and praying that the simple spell would work on a vampire as it did on others.
Christian stopped at the door, the oddest expression on his face. He frowned and tried to push through the barrier my spell had woven.
"Christian? What's the matter?"
His eyes narrowed on me as I smiled. "What have you done?"
"Me? Juvenile, rude, insecure, frightened little me? Whatever can you mean?"
His voice dropped to the sexiest growl I'd ever heard. It sent little shivers of delight traipsing up and down my spine. "You have done something to the door, Summoner. Something to keep me from passing through it."
I flashed a few more teeth in my smile as I leaned in close to him. "Never, ever think you can tell me what to do. I have a mind and a will of my own, and never again will I allow anyone to take that away from me."
I turned with a cheery wave to a worried-looking Joy, and made my way out of the building to the drizzle-damped streets. A few minutes later I sat back with a sigh in a taxi I'd been lucky to find disgorging its occupants, wondering how long it would take Christian to realize that my limited spell-casting power—Summoners usually know only those spells that are related to their own personal protection, or have to do with the binding of spirits—applied only to the front door of Joy's flat, and not any of the other means of exit. I suspected it wouldn't take him long to figure it out.
"I hate it when I'm right." I sighed as I closed the hotel room door. Christian stood before my wardrobe, poking through the clothes contained therein.
"Esme was also right. The state of your underthings is deplorable. Why do you not wear silk and satin, as other women do?"
I set Esme's bobble down on the small desk that graced a corner, and peeled off my coat. "Look, I realize we both said some things better left unsaid. For my part, I apologize for telling you to shove your insistence…" I waved my hand toward his midsection. "You know. That was rude of me, and I'm sorry for it, but you have to understand that I just do not like dominating, arrogant men."