“Islipped.”
His voice dropped; “And landed on my mouth?”
Dadga’s sagging arse, were these two serious? My laughter died in my throat and I reached blindly for Sorcha, gently pushing her towards the end of the bar. If I didn’t do something they were either going to tear each other to shreds or rut atop my counter.
“Sorcha go - go, erm - make up the rooms. Please.”
My cousin grumbled in her soft way, plainly wanting to stay and watch the tension unfold, but after a moment she ducked under the bar and disappeared through the door to the inn’s stairwell.
Tanner, who had been uncharacteristically quiet throughout the whole squabble, suddenly threw his head back and drained the last of his pint. He slapped his hands on his knees in that way that usually meant:Well, I’m off.
“Mighthaveto be the stable, eh Miss Roz?”
I stared blankly at him, but he winked as he wiped his ale soaked beard on the back of his hand and stood up.
“Sure aren’t you nearly booked out for the night?”
Booked out?I frowned down at the blank ledger. You could nearly count the days since Magnus left by the number of empty pages. How had he done it, I wondered? How would he have dealt withthis? I glanced up at Tanner, who had now ambled over to the door; he winked one ale glazed eye at me before hedisappeared into the cold night – and I suddenly understood exactly how Magnus would have handled this. Exactly how my parents would have handled it before him. These were not the first so-calledenemiesto pass throughThe Mage and Rosein the middle of the night. It was practically a proprietor’s rite of passage.
Miss Whitstone was watching me with round, worried eyes.
“You’re booked out?”
“Almost,” I said smoothly, barely missing a beat before affecting a bright smile. “But you’re in luck! We’ve still got one room left.”
For the first time, Mr Fox’s smile faltered. Miss Whitstone’s face was flaming so viciously that the magic in my chest stirred with mild interest, perhaps recognising kinship in the heating of her skin.
“Is there -” Miss Whitstone began, then leaned closer, cheeks practically glowing. “Is there at least a bed for each of us?”
I winced, and flattered myself it was rather convincing. Regretful; apologetic.
“Just the one bed, I’m afraid.”
???
Sorcha sat atop my beaten old desk, her arms folded and an inscrutable look on her face as she watched me guide the travellers into the lobby. Thelobbywas perhaps less of a lobby and more of a boxy hall with a fireplace and a narrow stairway tucked into the corner – but it served its purpose. I ignored the weight of Sorcha’s eyes and edged around her to retrieve the keys from the shelves behind my desk.
“Here we are! Room three, first floor.”
I spun to face them with the keys looped over one finger, and Miss Whitstone jumped so rigidly I had to assume I’d caught her stealing a glance at her companion. Mr Fox, on the otherhand, had dropped all flimsy pretense in favour of gazing at her with acute, uninhibited desire. When I’d broken the news, he had offered her the room and steeled himself to head back out into the night – but she had grabbed his arm before he could walk away.
Fox, you’ll be buried in that snow,she’d said.
We can put a pillow between us.
It’s just one night.
At that point, with Miss Whitstone in danger of swallowing her own tongue, and Mr Fox watching her with such heat it was a wonder she didn’t have steam billowing from her ears, I had tactfully stepped away to find Sorcha.
Ten minutes later the blood had yet to drain from Miss Whitstone’s face, but when she stepped forward to take the keys from my outstretched hand her lips curved beneath the still-burning apples of her cheeks. Fox was grinning openly as he swaggered after her to the stairs and didn’t bother to hide it when she turned to him at the landing, a forcibly stern look on her face.
“You don’t snore, do you?” she demanded. “I don’t want you keeping me up all night.”
Fox chuckled. He reached for the banister behind her and leaned in close.
“You sure about that?”
Sorcha made an odd choking noise and twisted in place to avert her eyes, lips tight against a giggle. I didn’t look away, though I absolutely should have. There was too much intimacy in his eyes; in the way they moved slowly over her face, and came to rest on her mouth, where her teeth dented her bottom lip.Gods, how long had it been since someone looked at me like that?
