I didn't know he was a thief at the time." I looked at Pierce, seeing his gaze lost in thought. "Or maybe I did and I was ignoring it. I've got a problem with bad men."
Pierce's focus sharpened, and when our eyes met, he looked away. He may as well have it all. "Nick's right, though," I admitted, watching the water swinging in my grip. "I'm not a particularly chaste woman. Compared to the women of your time, I'm probably a whore."
"You're not," Pierce protested a little too stridently, and I set the bottle down beside Nick's beer, wanting that instead. God, I was tired. And my knees were throbbing.
"I swear, and cuss," I said, giving in and taking a swig of the beer. The bitter taste tightened the back of my mouth but it was marvelously cold. "I don't take slights politely but tell people to kiss off." Ticked, I set the bottle down hard. "And I like beer."
"I opine - I think you're a woman of your world," he said from the far end of the couch. "I would have a hard time seeing you pressed and powdered, dreading a life of servitude under the name of marriage. You'd die in that mold. I like you as you are, fiery and ill tempered."
Silent, I looked at him, not knowing if he really believed it or was being polite.
My face must have given me away, because Pierce reached for me. Moving fast, I stood up, out of his reach. I went to the window to close the floor-to-ceiling blinds with fast, abrupt motions, careful to never get directly in an outsider's view. The room darkened but for the light from the skylights. Pierce never said a word.
The last blind shut, I turned, freezing when I found him right behind me. "Ah, you want the bed or the couch?" I asked, even more uncomfortable. I mean, I'd seen him look at me with abhorrence for breaking into the library. His disgust that I'd slept with Nick, slimeball and thief, had been obvious. Sure, he had started this grand adventure as a way to get out from under Al's thumb, but he knew that I was shunned, tied to demons more than my own kind. He was a demon killer - or wanted to be - and I was the student of one.
Then again, we were both dirty. His very existence hinged on Tom's untimely death and a black curse. And when the memory of him standing at my door with his hands dripping black power sifted through my mind - I shivered.
"Bed or couch?" I repeated, frightened by mistakes that I wasn't going to make this time, and when he shifted forward, I lurched out of his path, grabbing the afghan from the back of the couch. It was the same one I'd slept under in Nick's other apartment.
He exhaled, head bowed as he dropped back a step. "I'm of a mind to sit at the table," he said softly. "I don't set store by Nick's words, Rachel. A body would wonder why people think a younger time means a less randy state of mind." His lips curved up into a faint smile as he hesitated, then added, "Circumspect does not mean celibate."
My fingers gripped the afghan tighter. The scent of redwood came from him, strong and heady. I swallowed hard as he hesitated a moment longer, blue eyes nothing like Kisten's holding a hint of a question; then he moved past me, his steps silent on the carpet.
J think he just made a pass at me, I thought when he settled himself at the table. Numb, I sank back down on the couch. No way was I going to take the bed.
"I'm not happy with you making me look like a fool just so you can get away from Al for a week or two," I said, reclining with my head on the arm of the couch where I could see him. My knees protested, but it was warm under me where he had been sitting, and I could smell him there. I was so tired. I hadn't slept properly in over twenty-four hours.
"It worked, didn't it?" he grumbled, almost unheard.
"Then you don't think I need watching?" I asked, and he gave me a sideways glance.
Clearly he did, but I was too tired to be mad at him right now. His scent lingered in the cushions, the redwood blending with the whiff of electronics and burnt amber from the