Stars of Fortune(32)
He picked up the sketch. “She’s meant to be here, with us, and so she is.”
“Five down,” Sawyer said, “one to go.”
“Let’s hope the one to go waits at least until morning. I want some sleep.” Bran turned to Sasha. “You’re tired yourself.”
“I’m not used to introductions and powwows at nearly two in the morning.”
“I’ll wash this up.” Sawyer picked up the plate. “Go ahead. I’m right behind you.”
Bran took Sasha’s hand as they walked out and, testing, brought it to his lips. “Not angry anymore?”
“Oh, I’m still angry. I can put it aside for the big picture.”
“I get angry myself when I see you making yourself sick.”
“It’s my problem, my business.”
He flicked a nosegay of lavender out of the air, handed it to her at her door.
“Magic flower tricks don’t charm me.”
“They do. But more important, you’re my problem and my business now as well.”
Cupping a hand behind her head, he pulled her in, took her mouth in a quick, warm warning of a kiss. “You’ll have to deal with that as well. Good night, fáidh.”
She stepped quickly into her room, shut the door before she did something insane like pull him inside with her.
It hadn’t been a lover’s kiss, she told herself, as she traced a finger over her own lips. Not brotherly either. It was more . . . making a point.
That’s what she needed to remember.
He wasn’t attracted to her. They were teammates, and he was trying to keep her in line.
Well, she’d keep herself in line.
But she slept with the lavender on her pillow, and slept without dreams.
CHAPTER SIX
Sasha awakened to sun diamonds sparkling on blue water, and wondered at the turn her life had taken. Whatever came after, moments like this offered wild beauty. The idea of setting up her easel, trying to interpret that beauty on canvas had her pushing up in bed. Until she remembered she was part of a team, and the team had an agenda.
A team of five now, she thought, with the addition of the gorgeous and quirky Annika Waters.
She lifted the little nosegay from her pillow, held it to her nose. Immediately she was thrown back into that brief kiss, felt the warmth, the light pressure on her lips.
A team, she reminded herself. Not a romance, but a mission.
Though she’d do her duty, she gave herself the pleasure of throwing open her terrace doors, stepping out into that wild beauty. She smelled fruit and flowers and sea, gave herself the assignment of finding a watering can so she could tend the terrace pots, all filled with spearing and tumbling flowers in breathlessly hot colors.
She leaned on the iron railing, scanned the empty beach, then saw Annika topping the cliff steps. She wore a pink dress today, pale and pretty with a skirt that floated around her thighs as she started across the grass in bare feet.
She paused every few feet to sniff flowers, stroke leaves. When she looked up, saw Sasha, she beamed a smile, waved.
“Hello!”
“Good morning. You’re up and around early.”
“I don’t want to miss things, and I needed to swim.”
In what? Sasha nearly asked, then decided it wasn’t her business.
“Everyone was sleeping¸ but you’re awake now.”
“Yes, I am. I’m just going to get a shower and dress. I’ll be down soon.”
Sasha basked in the shower, wondered what it would take to have body jets installed in her shower at home—and thought whatever it took, it would be worth it.
Considering the agenda, she put on jeans, a tank, and a camp shirt, then laced up her hiking boots. She reordered her pack, lightening her load. And though it embarrassed her, even with no one to see, she took a sprig of lavender from the clutch and pressed it between the pages of the journal she’d bought for the journey.
Muttering at herself, she banded her hair back in a tail, and went downstairs.
She heard voices as she approached the kitchen, and caught the morning scents of coffee and bacon. Bran said he’d take breakfast, she remembered, and put on the casual smile she’d practiced in the mirror.
She walked in to see Annika frowning down at a mug of coffee. “Why doesn’t it taste the way it smells?”
“Too strong, is it? I don’t see the use of coffee unless it’s strong enough to stand up and dance, so I’ve a habit of brewing it that way.”
Bran stood at the stove, scooping bacon from the frying pan with a fork, tossing it onto a plate covered with paper towels. Casual, Sasha thought, and strolled in. “The stronger the better.”
Annika turned, held out the mug. “You would like it?”