Shadowdance(13)
The moment the door closed behind Rush, Talent sneered. “I swear to all that’s unholy, Chase, if you ever come after me with those GIM eyes, I’ll…” He faltered there, and she laughed lightly.
“You’ll what? You wouldn’t even remember.” Mary would never use her ability on Talent; it wouldn’t be sporting to best him in that manner. But he needn’t know that.
Talent’s skin flushed dark. “Oh, I’ll remember. Somehow I’ll remember, and you won’t like my retaliation, Chase.” In a shimmer of light, he shifted back to his true form—so as to properly glare at her, she supposed. He pinned her with a threatening look. “It shall be long and creative.”
“What are you doing?” Mary hissed with a glance at the door. “Get back into character before someone sees you.”
He waved a hand. “Takes but a second. And the bloody mustache itches.”
“You ought to have thought of that before.”
Talent ignored her in favor of scowling at the door Rush had closed. “Besides, if they do, you can work your little witchcraft upon them, now can’t you?” He laughed shortly and without real humor. “Hell, I cannot believe I forgot that particular trick. An utter waste of breath on my part, wasn’t it?”
“I must admit that I am surprised you defended me,” Mary said. “I was under the impression you felt the same as he.”
He made a rude noise through his lips. “Bother, Chase, did you not hear a word that I said? Sex has nothing to do with proficiency. Our head director is a woman.” His expression grew smug. “Any objection pertaining to your role here is due to you being a pain in my arse.”
“Oh, well, that is a much nicer sentiment.” Though in a perverse way, it was.
“Of course it is.” Oblivious as ever, he went back to glaring at the door. “What I object to in that prat is he’s a bloody middle-class fool.” His upper lips curled. “A more priggish bunch I have yet to meet.”
In many ways Talent was correct. The middle class, in their drive to mimic their betters, tried to live beyond reproach. “They do set a rather high standard to live by.”
“Bloody England. I ought to decamp to the States and be done with this land. Only the bloody Yanks are just as grasping.”
“Perhaps you should travel there. Just to be certain.” Mary bit back her smile. Really, the man was so readily worked up, it was almost too easy to needle him. “They might appreciate a man of such revolutionary ideals.”
Talent rounded on her, his fierce frown shifting into an expression of wry admonishment when he caught sight of her expression. “It won’t be that easy to be rid of me, Chase.”
“Pity.” She sighed. “I suppose I’ll have to try harder.”
Mary cleared her throat and touched the lace doily on the back of the couch with an idle hand. What was she doing, bantering with Jack Talent? And why was she enjoying it? Unconscionable. She felt like a traitor to herself. She turned to face him again, and her skirts swished against the couch. “Do try to contain yourself with the housekeeper.”
He gave her a long look, all flaring nostrils and sneering lips. “I do not have time to shilly-shally with social niceties.”
A strangled laugh caught in her throat. “You said it yourself, Talent. Social niceties are unavoidable. But you? You have all the tact of a Bedlamite ranter.”
He made a rude noise. “Are we finished with the deportment session? May we kindly return to our case?”
“My word, you phrased that so nicely. I am quite astonished.”
His scowl was truly aggrieved. But then he suddenly grinned bright and crafty. Without warning he reached over and tweaked her ear in a move worthy of a five-year-old. “Lest you think I’m learning anything,” he said with his evil grin still in place.
“Pinch me again and lose a finger.” She meant for it to be a threat, but her voice came out oddly husky, his touch having made her pulse quicken.
As if he’d picked up on her tone, his lids lowered a fraction, setting her off balance, for heat lit his eyes. An illusion surely. Her breath sharpened as Talent’s voice turned sultry. “Is that a dare, Chase?”
Their gazes clashed, and Mary had the disorienting sense of the world’s having suddenly turned upside down on her. Her lips parted, and he studied them, his looming form tilted toward her as if drawn. Impossible. The door opened, and they sprang apart. Which was ridiculous, given that they’d been standing at a respectable distance.
Mary, for one, was glad of the intrusion. With an unsteady hand, she smoothed back a lock of hair that hung heavy at her temple, and was shocked to find it damp.