"The handcuffs?"
"The fur."
I looked at Christian with speculation in my eye. He gave me one of his warm smiles in return. "I thought it might add an unexpected depth to certain experiences."
Who would have thought? I was about to mull on the deep waters that stirred Christian, but it was brought to my attention that Tanya didn't like being ignored.
"You will not turn away from me! You will not brush me off like the stinging bee!" She gave me a shove in my shoulder as she spoke. Roxy whistled low and grabbed my arm. I bit back the desire to kick Tanya in the shins, determined not to let her get to me.
"I will speak and you will listen. Your plan to push yourself into the fair as a reader of the rune stones will fail. You do not have the skill, no matter how big you make yourself appear."
I frowned over that puzzling sentence until I shrugged it off, figuring that not only was Tanya obsessed with Dominic and paranoid about me having whatever plan she was convinced I was plotting, she also was losing her grasp on English the angrier she became.
"You are nothing, you are insignificant to Dominic! You will not succeed."
I tried to walk away, I really did. I smiled, said, "You're repeating yourself. It's been lovely talking to you, Tanya, really it has, and don't let anyone convince you otherwise," and took Roxy by the arm and tried to walk away, but Tanya wouldn't let me.
"Salope!" she sneered after me, proving that if nothing else, she had an excellent grasp of gutter French. "Crawl away, that is good. Your weak attempt to bring yourself to Dominic's attention has failed, for you have no talent for divination. Dominic seeks only those who have true abilities, not poseurs. Go back to your hotel and remember who has been victorious this night."
"Poseur? That's a bit ironic coming from you," I said slowly, turning back to Tanya. Roxy shouldered me aside, her eyes raging with indignation on my behalf. I grabbed the back of her jacket to keep her from tangling with the larger, meaner woman, but she just pulled away.
"Are you implying that my friend is making a play for Dominic? You're dead wrong, sister, if you are. She thinks he's a creep, a big old creep. And you know what? So do I! So you can just put that in your pipe and smoke it!"
"Roxy, stop. Don't lower yourself to her level."
"You are just as bad as she is," Tanya snapped at Roxy, her hands fisted. "You seek the favor of Dominic's eye as well, but you will not have it either. I will cast a spell against you both!"
Roxy made a disgusted noise and deliberately misunderstood Tanya. "As if I wanted his eye! You're nutso, lady, you know that? And another thing—don't call my friend a poseur. She's very good at reading rune stones, something I'm willing to bet you can't do. If you didn't have your head stuck so far up your butt, you'd be down on your knees begging her to help you guys out."
"Roxy," I said uneasily. Christian appeared at my shoulder, his eyes narrowed as he watched Tanya with an intensity that made my skin itch.
"I would rather die than ask that vache to join the fair," she snarled.
Cow? She called me a cow? Well! I searched my mind for French obscenities. The worst I could come up with was the phrase telling her that her speech was worse than that of a female fishmonger. I figured it would do in a pinch.
"Good! There's no way I would ever consider working alongside you," I said, moving forward and gently pushing Roxy aside. "Not in this or any other lifetime."
"La putain de ta mère," she hurled at me.
"Right back atcha, babe!" I answered, incensed enough by her continuing attack on me, not to mention the slur on my mother, to go a few rounds with her.
"Do you both plan to make your arguments a regular part of the evening's entertainment?" a voice asked from behind me. "If so, I wish you'd tell me. I have a slot before the magic show and after the poetry reading that might suit. Perhaps we could even add wagering on the outcome."
Arielle was directly behind Raphael as he rounded the corner of the tent at a fast walk. My heart did an unpleasant little flip-flop when I spotted him, much like a fish does when it's been yanked from the water. A sudden overwhelming need washed over me, making me want to stand close to him, to smell him, to slide my hands under his shirt and over the planes of his chest. It seemed so very important that I touch him, I actually took two steps toward him before I reminded myself that there were far more important things than my unseemly desires.
What, I couldn't remember, but I felt sure there was something more important.
Tanya turned to Raphael and went off in a flurry of a language I didn't know, pointing at me and no doubt vilifying me, my ancestors, and probably my descendants as well. I caught his eye and gave him a mildly apologetic "What could I do, I was just standing here and she walked up and started the fight, I am truly innocent of all things" smile. He quirked a brow, his eyes turning hot and seductive and mesmerizing, and once again I felt the need to touch him, to do any number of things that I was quite sure would raise his eyebrows—among other things—again and again.