Page 95
Not trusting his voice, Torr stood at the opening of the vault, looking inside at the woman who sat facing him, her legs prettily crossed. The leather whip? Oh so casually propped on her shoulder.
Jesus fucking Christ.
“That was quick.”
His eyes narrowed. “I have . . . skills.”
Even he, dense as he was, could decipher the meaning behind her smile.
“Yes. You do.”
Charlotte would surely be the death of him, not an aspen dagger or the blade of a rogue Cheld’s sword.
“Waiting for someone?”
She uncrossed her legs, parting them ever so slightly, then recrossed them under the small table. Charlotte then swung the whip around until it lay across her lap.
Yes, she would drive him mad.
“As a matter of fact, I am.”
For a sickening moment, he thought she meant someone else. Then she gave him an ever-so-slight nod of invitation. A relief, for he would have challenged any man who thought to win her favor.
“Wait.”
She stopped him just before he sat. The only light inside the vault came from a single small candlelit lantern at the center of the table. It was meant to be an intimate setting, the low murmur of voices in the bar an indistinguishable—for most people—backdrop to the most private space in the bar.
“I’d like one last look at you before you sit.”
He tried not to smile. After all, he’d worn this for her, hadn’t he? Of course, he hadn’t admitted as much to himself at the time.
“Had your fill?” he said finally as she looked him up and down.
Sitting, he leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms, not quite sure what to make of this particular version of Charlotte.
“I suppose,” she said.
“I can stand again if you’d like—”
“I’d prefer to do more than that, but this hardly seems like an appropriate setting.”
Yes, she surely would be the death of him.
“I didn’t think you wore kilts in your time.”
“We didn’t.”
“Then why—”
“I overheard you telling Toni once that you would . . . let me see if I can remember this correctly . . . ‘very much like to see that ass in a kilt.’”
“Oh heavens.” She leaned down to place the whip on the floor. “You heard that?”
He grinned. “Indeed.”
“I always forget—”
“And with luck, will continue to do so.”
