Читать книгу Carnal Magic - Christine McKay - Страница 4

“Where are we going?”

He was steering her toward the parking lot. “Dancing.”

Not exactly a talker, was he. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m naked under this coat.”

He gave her a quick glance, eyes gleaming. “I had noticed and it will not be a problem.”

She colored, the heat of his look warming her more quickly than a shot of Jack Daniel’s. “I warn you, I’m a foot masher.”

“I will make note of that.”

She searched her brain for another excuse, then settled on the truth. “I don’t know how to dance.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

This from a man with skeleton hands? They’d reached her car. Fumbling with her keys, she opened her door. “Um, am I driving someplace?”

“No, you are leaving your belongings here. The dance is elsewhere.”

She eyed him warily. “Everything?”

His lips curved. “Then we might not make it to the dance. Just your bag of magicks. I thought perhaps you would like to know they are safe.”

“Of course.” The look he’d given her could melt stone. Fortunately she was mostly frozen flesh. The marble rubble of her heart remained untouched. With her shoulder bag safely stowed, she turned toward him. “Now what?”

He offered her his arm again. “We dance.”

Some of his gestures seemed so at odds with his modern appearance. “I’m not going to damn my soul doing this, am I?”

“A bit late to ask.”

She blanched. He took her hand and laid it on his arm. “No. I am neither good nor evil.”

“Must be nice,” she muttered.

“Beg pardon?”

“To think you are completely impartial.”

“I don’t think. I know.”

“Yeah, yeah, Mr. Ego. Less talk, more seduction. You’re burning moonlight.”