* * *
Five minutes later Gabby was securely tied to one of her dining-room chairs with her own clothesline.
Wrists bound behind her to the ladder-back chair, ankles snugly roped to the legs.
Dispiritedly she wondered how it was possible that a person's life could go so thoroughly to hell in a handbasket in so short a time. Only yesterday morning the biggest worry on her mind had been what to wear to her interview. Whether Ms. Temple might think a black suit too severe, a brown one too modest, a pink one too frivolous. High heels too flirty? Low heels too butch? Hair up or down?
God, had she really worried about such things?
Mornings like this certainly put one's life in perspective.
Dragging a chair around to face hers, Adam Black dropped into it, legs spread, elbows on its knees, leaning forward, mere inches from her. A long silky fall of midnight hair spilled over its muscular shoulder, brushing her thigh. The thing clearly had no concept of personal space. It was much too close. Just as she thought that, it raised a hand toward her. She flinched, but it only grazed her cheek with its knuckles, then slowly traced the pad of its thumb over her lower lip.
She tossed her head defiantly, averting her face. A finger beneath her chin forced her to turn back.
"Ah, yes, I like you this way much better." Its dark eyes glittered, sparking gold.
"I don't like you any way." Jaw jutting, she tipped her nose skyward. Dignity, she reminded herself. She would not die without it.
"I think I got that, Irish. Best bear in mind you're at my mercy. And I'm not feeling particularly merciful at the moment. Perhaps you should endeavor to keep me liking you."
She muttered something she rarely said. A thing Gram would have washed out her mouth with soap for.
Its eyes flared with instant heat. Then it laughed darkly, wiping blood from its lip with the back of its hand. "That's not what you were saying a few minutes ago."
"That's not how I meant it and you know it."
Its laughter stopped abruptly and its gaze turned cold. "Ah, but I'm afraid I'm a very literal man, ka-lyrra. Don't say that to me again unless you mean it. Because I will take you up on it. And I won't give you the chance to take it back. Just those two words. Say them to me again and I'll be all over you. On the floor. Me and you. Say it. Go ahead."
Gabby gritted her teeth and stared down at the hardwood floor, counting dust bunnies. No more than you deserve, Gabby, Moira O'Callaghan chided in her mind. I raised you better than that.
Great, she thought mulishly, now everyone was ganging up on her. Even dead people.
The finger was back beneath her chin, forcing her to meet its shimmery gaze. "Got it?"
" 'Got it,' " she clipped.
"Good." A pause, a measuring look. "So tell me, Gabrielle O'Callaghan, what exactly is it you believe my people do to the Sidhe-seers?"
She shrugged nonchalantly— in as much as she was able, tied so securely— not about to admit to anything. A sidhe-seer, it'd called her, the archaic name for what she was. She'd encountered it in the Books of the Fae, but never heard it spoken aloud. "I have no idea what you're talking ab— "
It made an impatient noise and laid a finger to her lips, shushing her, "Irish, don't dissemble with me, I have no patience for it. The féth fiada doesn't work on you, and you called me by name. I admit, when first I caught you looking at me, I was perplexed, but there's no other explanation for your behavior. It's why you fought me. You know all about my race, don't you?"
After a long moment Gabby swallowed and nodded tightly. She had well and truly betrayed herself, first by being caught looking at it, then by telling it to "go to hell" by name. It knew. And it was clearly not in the mood for games. "So what now?" she asked stiffly. "Are you going to kill me?"
"I've no intention of killing you, ka-lyrra. Though indeed there was a time a Sidhe-seer's life was forfeited if caught, my people haven't spilled human blood since The Compact governing our races was negotiated." It swept a fall of hair from her eyes and tucked it behind her ear, its hand lingering, tracing the curve of her cheek. "Nor do I plan to hurt you, unless you hurt me again, at which point all bets are off. As of this moment I'm willing to wipe the slate clean between us, consider your hostility a misunderstanding. Allow that a wee thing like you— believing your life in jeopardy— would feel driven to fight dirty against a man like me. However, if you hurt me again, you'll pay tenfold. Understand?"
Gabby nodded stiffly, wishing it would stop touching her. The mere brush of its hand made her skin tingle, made all the muscles in her lower stomach clench. How dare the embodiment of her worst nightmare come packaged as her hottest fantasy?