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Despite the ironic slant to the contents of the note, it did bring him down to earth. It reminded him what he was supposed to be doing here. Namely, being a guardian. This was about the big picture. He’d become so wrapped up in his emotional reaction to the situation that he hadn’t thought straight. Fool.
Was it normal to want to hold a woman in your arms so tightly that she couldn’t go out with another man even if she wanted to? And why the hell did she want to go out with Crawford Logan, anyway? He couldn’t figure it out, because he was so torn. As a result he’d reacted like the worst kind of aggressor, which meant he’d sounded garbled and idiotic when he tried to warn her off. She’d agreed to help him, have some fun along the way, maybe. He didn’t own her and he had to accept that. Yet he’d felt that way for a moment there, as if she was his, his treasure. Loading his coffee with sugar, he downed it. Then he dressed carefully, readying himself.
He strode up the hill to the Silver Birch. The sun was getting low in the sky. Music and merriment poured out from the open doorway of the old inn. He stepped inside, and scanned the crowd.
“Come for a dance?” Crawford Logan was right there at his side, just inside the entrance. He must have been watching the doorway.
“I’m sure you’re light on your feet, and it’s kind of you to offer,” Grayson replied, “but no, thank you.”
Crawford shot him a warning look.
The drone of the bagpipes drew his attention to the room beyond the main bar. He edged through the crowd, but Crawford stayed close behind him. Suddenly Cain Davot stepped in front of him, blocking his path. Grayson frowned. They surely were doing their best to put a barrier between him and Zoë.
“Don’t even try it, Murdoch.” Cain’s eyes glowed with restless energy. His smile was smug, his hands resting easily in the pockets of his expensive trousers.
“Try what? I came for a drink. It’s still a free country, much as you would like Carbrey to be your little kingdom.”
Grayson glanced at the bar and then away, all the time scanning for Zoë. He caught sight of her in the extension beyond, where the dancing was taking place.
Now that he knew where she was, he directed his whole attention to Cain. Another one of Cain’s cronies had closed in at his right flank. Crawford was still at his left side. They had him nicely caged in.
Cain’s eyes glittered. “You’re not welcome here.”
For some reason Cain thought he had the upper hand. Was it because Zoë had come here with Crawford? Grayson returned the smile. Did they really think he’d let it go that easily?
“Tell me,” he asked Cain, “why the major insecurity about me being here? What is it that you’re up to?”
Cain didn’t like that. His smile disappeared, his eyes narrowing.
“Ah, a man with something to hide,” Grayson added.
The tension between them mounted. His radar was up and on the alert for magic. Then Cain shoved him in the chest with his fist. His eyes had turned black.
Grayson stood his ground, but glanced around. “You’ll have us thrown out. Is that what you want?” His blood pumped when he realized that might very well happen and then Cain would have achieved his goal.
Cain snorted derisively. “Thrown out, why no.” He didn’t like being second-guessed. His eyes illuminated, turning into incandescent discs. “Allow me to get you a drink,” he muttered under his breath, and then clicked his fingers and pointed.
A passing woman teetered on her heels and her drink sloshed out of her glass and on to Grayson’s clothes.
She stopped dead, hand over her mouth when she saw the huge wet patch on his shirt. “Oh, I’m so sorry.”
Grayson flashed her a sympathetic smile, hard though that was given his current mood. “Not your fault, sweetheart.”
“I must’ve tripped,” she added, confusion on her face.
“Really, it wasn’t your fault.” The crowd was giving Cain cover. This was annoying.
The alcohol had soaked right through his shirt to his skin. There had been far more than a glassful. Apparently Cain had no discretion when it came to performing magic. As if to prove that very point, Cain nodded and the two men at his sides stepped away.
Cain lifted one hand in front of him, fingers splayed, energy radiating from his palm.
Grayson flew backward several feet.
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He heard the crackle of flames. The fireplace was right behind him and he was soaked in alcohol. Cain’s eyes continued to glitter, and his smug smile was back. Grayson didn’t like this, not one bit. He was on the verge of losing what little cool he had left. Cain had put him in a position where he had to use magic to protect himself and others, in a crowded public place. Why? Just to find out if he could?
At his back, heat shot up to furnace level and the fire hissed and spat. Even as he lifted his hands and whispered an enchantment, somebody nearby shouted a warning about the log on the fire sizzling dangerously.
