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Caradoc was anything but.
She bit down on her lower lip and rubbed her wrists, as memories of the night before came flooding back to her. His leather belt, holding her prisoner in his bed, was a memory that would never fade.
“Finn? D’you hear me?”
“Oh.” She blinked, and crouched down beside the car. The generic blue coveralls she wore protected her knees from the grease-marked ground. “No.”
“You’ve been distracted all afternoon.”
She nodded, her throat in her mouth. The funeral would have been happening at that moment. Actually, it was probably over, she thought, sending a surreptitious glance at the clock on the wall. The church on the edge of the property had been packed with mourners; she’d seen them from the distance of the house, gathering in the gentle lawn that skirted the low stone building. Caradoc would have been at the front and centre. She hadn’t been able to make out his frame in the crowd – her vantage point was too far removed – but she knew the kind of man he was.
Yes, four nights with Caradoc had shown her more of his character than she’d thought it possible to comprehend. She knew he was arrogant to a fault; but with good cause. He was persistent, he was driven, he had stamina. He could convince anyone of anything; he was the kind of man no one could refuse.
Caradoc had a kind of powerful personal magnetism. If he chose to use it for evil, then Finn could only imagine how dire the consequences would be. A shiver ran down her back. So what was she doing with him?
“I’m tired,” she said with far too much honesty, and regretted it instantly.
“Been partying up in your room?” He teased, with no possible idea of how lively her nights had become.
She laughed. “Hardly. It’s freezing in my room.”
“Is it?” He slid out from under the car, his handsome face smudged with grease.
“You know these old buildings,” she said with a shrug. “Now, let me get under there.”
“You doubtin’ my work?”
“Never! Ready and willing to admire it, that’s all.”
“Well, in that case…” He stood up to make room for her, and Finn was down on the tray in an instant. She slid under the car, leaving only her slender legs protruding.
“You got a cloth?” She called out.
“A cloth?”
“You’ve left oil,” she reprimanded teasingly, sliding out just far enough to wink at him.
He laughed and lifted his rag, and threw it down at her. She grinned as she slid back under the body and wiped some of the hoses. “It’s impossible to tell if it’s patched without taking it for a run.”
“My thoughts exactly. Care to see some of this fine countryside?”
Something like warning tingled down her spine. If it weren’t for the fact that she and Dougal had spent the last few days working side by side, she might have thought he was flirting with her. Only they’d become friends. Colleagues. Fellow car-enthusiasts. That was all.
Nonetheless, she felt a sense of loyalty to Caradoc that made absolutely no sense. Caradoc had taken great pains to spell out what he wanted from Finn. And what he hadn’t said, she’d come to understand from his actions.
This was physical for him.
And for her too, she hastened to mentally add.
But for Caradoc, it was as though the beasts pursued him in the dark hours. By night, he was a man who could only quieten his mind with the immersion in absolute physical pleasure.
That was all.
So why should she not spend time with Dougal?
“Sure,” she smiled slowly. “That sounds good.”
“Seraphina!”
