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Zerena
At three o’clock the next day I’m standing out on the street, in my faux-fur coat and boho chic skirt while trying to ignore Dimitra’s and Roger’s anxious glances from inside the coffee shop.
They really need to have a little more faith in me. This time I’m going to score. This time I won’t make a mess. This time Pendragon will get caught in my net and he won’t even know what hit him.
Ten minutes later he shows up, behind the wheel of a black Audi Sportback. I would’ve expected something more extravagant from him but you know what they say about men with vulgar cars...
“You’re late,” I chirp, getting in and he throws a quick glance down my body and I bite my lip.
“Traffic,” he answers sharply and because the car is heated, he’s not wearing his coat and the sleeves of his shirt are rolled up. His underarms are tan and muscular, veiny and without any distracting tattoos.
Yum.
“Where exactly do you want go?” he continues as I do my best not to stare at him.
“You know where Fort Tyne is?” I ask and he raises his brows patronizingly like I’m a dummy for asking.
“Of course, I’ve lived here all my life.”
“Great!” I put on my seatbelt. “Then that’s where we’re going.”
“This better be good,” he mutters underneath his breath, starting the engine and I scowl at him.
“Judging by your last name one would think you’d be more knightly,” I mutter.
“And judging by your last name one would think you’d know your place.”
“Nobody gets anywhere by staying in their place,” I sigh and I catch his mouth curving, as if he approves of the message. “Besides, I promise I’ll make your time with me worthwhile.”
His head shakes. “I hope that organization pays you well, Miss. Crichlow for your rabid enthusiasm.”
I squirm. “Actually they don’t pay me at all. But I don’t mind that much. It’s a passion project.”
“A what?” he says with curved brows and I hold back a smile, because he probably doesn’t do those.
“You know, something that you do just because you feel strongly about it.”
Blaise lets out a grunt as if he’s never heard anything so stupid. “Seems very childish.”
Sighing I flip through the music channels. “Maybe it is in some way but it’s worth it,” I shrug. “Just think about how attached people are to the ocean. It’s where most of us have spent our summers, where we ate vanilla ice cream that dripped everywhere, took our first swim strokes...”
I trail off when he doesn’t seem to be listening. His eyes are fixed on the road which is good because he’s going at it in a speed that doesn’t totally feel safe. But then his head slightly turns to the side, as if he’s expecting me to keep running my mouth.
“Where did you spend your summers growing up, Mr. Pendragon?” I ask.
“The Highlands,” he says brusquely and I turn to him, trying not to glower at his intense profile and the muscles in his jawbones.
“I like mountains too but I feel like the water is more special. Have you ever just floated around in the sea while the sun is shining down on you?” I ask. “You know that feeling, when you’re completely weightless...?”
“I actually don’t. And why would anyone waste time floating around like a loaf of bread?” he interrupts and I snigger.
“No, I suppose you’d just sink like a rock,” I say and he looks offended, his brows knotting over his eyes.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
I bite my lip hesitantly because I know Blaise takes himself pretty seriously. “You know, just that you seem a little...tense.”
“Unlike your good admirer Lars?” he grits between his teeth and I get a little excited at the hint of jealousy I managed to detect.
