hip, holding her there, but put his other hand up on the window. He copied the movement as he remembered it, and he’d been correct. It was like she’d been following the up and down soaring flight of a bird, keeping pace with the plane.
“Our Master . . . Debra said he’s an artist?”
She didn’t move at all, but it was obvious she’d been awake as soon as he’d touched her. She might not be a warrior, but over a decade of being an Inherited Servant meant he couldn’t sneak up on her. She’d let him pick her up without complaint, though. Maybe she thought Evan was okay with it.
“Aye. He’s ae o’ a kind. Paint’s still his favorite medium, but now he does photography, sculpting, metalwork, whatever interests him. He doesnae stay any one place too long. Never has.”
“How can I be a good servant to him?”
Such a simple, direct question. One he’d never asked himself, not in three hundred years. Niall shifted. “Cannae say. I’m no prize in that department, but he keeps me around. Gives him a dog to kick without me actually being one. He likes dogs.”
She was staring at him as if he’d spoken gibberish. When she immediately dropped her gaze at his attention, he touched her chin. “I’m not a vampire. You can look at me. Make faces, blow raspberries, whatever pleases ye.”
“You are his representative. An Inherited Servant treats all with deference.”
“Well, I’d appreciate it if ye didnae. I like your eyes. I like seeing your eyes,” he amended, in case she started worrying about the whole manners thing again.
She studied him. “How long have you been with him?”
She seemed okay being where she was, but he wouldn’t call her relaxed. She was a nice lapful, her arse soft, and she smelled exotic, some light scent he couldn’t place. He wrapped the hair spilling over his knuckles around them, gentle-like and casual. “Since the early 1700s.”
As she digested that, her gaze sharpened. “So you are . . .”
“Just over three hundred.” He drew his finger across his throat. “The usual servant life span. From what I ken, it happens fairly sudden. One day the clock will just stop ticking, but until then I have all my faculties. A bonny deal, if you compare it to getting all creaky and gray, limp-dicked. Sorry. Shouldn’t have said that.”
She pressed her lips together. “I’m not offended. Have the two of you traveled without female companionship for all those years? Does your Master not . . . ?”
“Aye, he likes women well enough. ’Tis the artist thing. The issue isn’t male or female for him, but what ‘engages him artistically.’ That’s how he puts it. He likes a man for a servant because we’re nae very complicated.” He shrugged. Hell, he couldn’t say what it was about him that had “artistically engaged” Evan for nearly three centuries, but there it was. As for him . . . well, there was no expiration on a debt of honor.
He nodded toward the window. “What were you doing, the bird thing?”
She looked startled, then uncomfortable, so he waved a hand. “You dinnae have to tell me. I was spying, something Evan told me not to do.”
Alanna arched a brow. “Are you in the habit of disobeying your Master?”
“Chronically, according to him. Of course, he’s very fond o’ the single tail, probably because using it properly is artistically engaging as well. You’ve no need to worrit on that yourself. Never seen him beat a woman. Well, a guid spanking turns him on now and then, particularly if the lass has a fine, soft—”
Niall. Really?
Just making sure you were paying attention.
You will wish I wasn’t paying such close attention when you land.
She was giving him that three-headed dog look again, but then Evan startled him. Kiss her, Niall. I want to see how she reacts.
Didnae ye just say, about tempered steel and all?
Do it. Don’t say anything to warn her.
Niall didn’t have any problem with the kiss, but he didn’t want to scare her. Tightening his hand on her hair, a reassurance rather than an attack, he moved his hand up her back, feeling the thin strap of bra beneath the sweater, hooking his thumb there as he eased her toward his face. A variety of expressions crossed her brown eyes. Alarm, recognition, determination . . . decision.
She caught him in the chin with the heel of her hand in a blow so smart it snapped his teeth together on his tongue.