Читать книгу Wicked - Shannon Drake - Страница 12

DESPITE THE HUSH with which the others spoke, Brian could hear their startled and, he mused, somewhat alarmed whispers.

“Lord Stirling?” Sir John said, stunned.

“I thought he’d left.” The frantic comment came from Alex Mittleman.

“Well, he hasn’t. And I’m warning all of you…” That, from Sir John, who didn’t finish the sentence, but came out into the hall, speaking more forcefully and with what sounded like good cheer and welcome. “Brian! We are, indeed, honored! Haven’t seen you in forever, and today…well, we are honored!”

“Please, Sir John, you make me feel quite self-conscious,” he replied, taking the man’s hand.

“So…he never left!” Hunter mused softly, whispering into the ear of Camille Montgomery.

Brian saw her eyes. She was looking wary, thinking the same.

The little workroom where they had all gathered was apparently hers. She stood close to Hunter MacDonald. Alex hovered like a frightened rooster, determined somehow to defend his domain. Even Sir John had taken a stance that was defensive. Yet, Brian thought with a certain humor, he seemed ready—albeit reluctantly—to turn his lovely young ingénue over to Brian if that was what was required to pull him back in. Interesting.

Hunter stepped forward. “Brian, you old devil! We’ve missed you.”

Again, the words were spoken with enthusiasm and apparent good cheer. They’d been in the military together and had known one another well. Indeed, they’d done a bit of pub hopping together. They might even have been called friends. Hunter liked to be thought of as a great world traveler, a tremendous adventurer, and he guarded his reputation as a ladies’ man. He enjoyed women—of all sizes, shapes and social strata.

Was it the natural distrust for a man that might well be a murderer that caused Brian to watch him with so great a distrust now? Or was it the way he stood by Camille? Brian couldn’t help the surge of curiosity that sprang forward in his mind, yet it was goaded by something far more instinctual. He wanted to wrench the woman from the man’s side. Was she aware of Hunter and his reputation, hard earned and well deserved. Were they already lovers?

He’d known her but a night. And his distrust of her remained strong. After all, she had arrived at his house. And she worked at the museum. But was it simple distrust or something else? He had determined on his path. And she was part of it. But as he stood there, watching her, he realized the extraordinary depth of her beauty, the color of her hair, the crystal electricity in her eyes. Indeed, even in her work apron, with strands of hair escaping pins, she exuded a rare grace and dignity, even…sensuality.

He didn’t trust her proximity to Hunter. And worse, he just didn’t…like it.