Название | Bayou Shadow Protector |
---|---|
Автор произведения | Debbie Herbert |
Жанр | Короткие любовные романы |
Серия | Mills & Boon Nocturne |
Издательство | Короткие любовные романы |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781474055550 |
“Good idea.” She stuffed the money in her purse. “See you later.”
Steven gave a broad wink. “Watched you out there. Excellent job using your feminine wiles on the man. None of us like to see a woman cry.”
“I wasn’t using my wiles,” she sputtered, glancing back at Chulah, who was busy studying the fairy figurines in the shop window.
He gave a maddening little chuckle. “Sure you weren’t.”
“Oh, for the queen’s sake—I’ll be back in a bit.”
“Take your time. Wrap him around your little finger.” The smile left his face. “Don’t be like your mother. Your loyalty is to our world. Not theirs.”
April shut the door in his blathering face, afraid Chulah might overhear and angry at the slur to her mother. She took a deep breath to steady her emotions. “I’m ready.” She smiled. “What’s the name of this place?”
“Bayou Brandy & Spirits. A friend of mine owns it.”
They fell into step, April bubbling with excitement. This officially counted as a date in her book. She’d been courted a few times by her own kind, but they acted as if they were doing her a great favor since her mother was so reviled. Besides, the attentions of the notoriously fickle male of her species held no real charm. In that respect, she was just like her mother. She wanted a forever kind of man.
A man like Chulah.
All she had to do was win his trust, persuade him to help their mutual cause, work with him to defeat Hoklonote, restore her family’s name, convince the queen and Council to let her remain in Bayou La Siryna—plus, win his undying love. All while protecting her secret offense against him years ago.
April wasn’t daunted a bit.
Even in the early whisper of evening, stepping into the bar was stepping into night and mystery and a winding-down from the day’s work and worries. A dark, velvet smokiness settled on Chulah like a balm.
All heads, mostly male, turned their way. And stayed turned. April’s unusual hair color practically glowed like quicksilver in the dim lighting.
They slipped into a booth and Chulah signaled Karlee over. She approached, eyeing April with a jaded once-over stare.
“Hey, sweetie. That’s some kind of dye job ya got there.” She lifted a thick strand of April’s hair and leaned in, squinting. “Blond and silver and lavender. Who’d have guessed that combo worked?” She smiled, not unkindly. “I like it.”
“Thanks.”
Women and their hair. Chulah stifled a sigh. “I’ll have a whiskey double. Neat.”
Karlee whistled. “Tough day, huh?”
He recalled the pity in Tallulah’s eyes as she said he was like a brother. “You could say that.”
“What about you, sweetie?” Karlee asked, turning to April.
“Water?” she said, uncertainly.
Karlee frowned. “That’s it? Just plain ole water?”
“What flavors do you have? I prefer floral nectar, but I like orange water, too.”
Karlee exchanged a what’s-her-deal look with him. Chulah shrugged. “Maybe she means orange juice?”
“Yes, that’s it,” April said in a rush, pink flushing her cheeks. “Orange juice.”
“How about I spike it with brandy?”
April drummed her fingers on the worn tabletop. “I guess. Sure.”
Interesting. She wasn’t afraid of roaming the woods alone, yet ordering a drink appeared to make her nervous. He needed to know more about this unusual woman. “Where are you from?” he asked. “You’re new here or we’d have crossed paths before now.”
“I used to live in Tillman’s Corner, about thirty miles east of here.”
“I know where it is. I have a cousin who grew up there. You know Drew Lattimore?”
She tilted her head to the side and pursed her lips, thinking. “No. The name isn’t familiar.”
Chulah studied her, a niggling unease prickling his skin. Something about her seemed familiar, but surely he’d remember such an unusual woman if they’d met before. “What brings you to Bayou La Siryna?”
“I’m opening a store. You saw it.”
The woman wasn’t very forthcoming. Most business owners he knew had a passionate entrepreneurial spirit. She mentioned her store as if it were as exciting as eating a piece of toast. “I know. But why here, why now?”
“Seemed like a good idea.” She squirmed in her seat. “What got you interested in repairing motorcycles?”
“How did you know that?”
She blinked. “You mentioned it.”
“No.”
Her lie didn’t sit well with him. He was a man of few words, so it was easy to remember them. And he hadn’t said a word about his bike shop.
Karlee returned, setting down their drinks. “Here ya go. Enjoy.”
Chulah swallowed a mouthful of stiff whiskey, watching April, trying to figure her out. The woman had a secret.
She took a tentative sip of her drink and licked her full lips, testing it. An unexpected volt of pure sexual desire speared his gut, more potent than the alcohol. She took another, longer sip and nodded her head. “It’s good. Strange, though, like a fire going down your throat to your belly.”
“About my repair shop—”
“—I want another one.” She downed the entire glass and gave him a lopsided grin.
“Whoa. Maybe you should slow down. Pace yourself.”
But she was already waving at Karlee and pointing to her empty glass.
Although a complete stranger, Chulah suspected this wasn’t her normal behavior. After all, she’d ordered water to start with. Unless she was a recovering alcoholic and he was responsible for tempting her beyond her control. The thought made his skin draw up tight. “Do you drink often?”
“First time.” She set her elbow on the table and put her chin in one palm, giggling.
It occurred to him that now would be a good time to press her a bit, discover what made her tick. “So what brings you to this town?” he asked again.
“I’m on a mission.” She wagged a finger in front of his face. “And when I make up my mind, I can’t be stopped.”
“What kind of mission?”
“To save the world.”
“From what?”
She stopped smiling. “Evil. There’s so much evil.”
Didn’t he know it. Had battled against it for years with his fellow shadow hunters. But, at least in this corner of the universe, the evil was now contained. They had stopped Nalusa Falaya, the supreme evil being, although a few wisps and other nefarious creatures still remained to be hunted. There would always be some around. Their Choctaw ancestors were testimony to that cold fact.
He leaned in close to April. She smelled like flowers and something...earthy, like moss or a freshly mown lawn. Her face was heart-shaped and her complexion a peachy pale color