He stared at her. “I bet you shook all your presents before Christmas.”
She frowned. So what if she did? Her gaze moved back to the shiny metal doors in front of her. Apparently he wasn’t going to give her any clues.
He laughed. “You did, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” she murmured.
“It’s in the castle, mianach áilleacht.”
She turned to look at him, remembering him saying those words on the beach. “What does it mean?”
“Beauty mine.”
She drew in a breath, but before she could speak, the doors slid open and Dorian was guiding her out and down the hall. Mine. Such a possessive word. Or was she reading too much into it? He hadn’t said “my beauty”, but “beauty mine”. Oh Lord, she would drive herself crazy trying to decipher his meaning. When she wrote her male characters they used possessive terms like “mine” and it meant something then. But that was fiction. What mattered were his thoughts. Does he feel possessive? Did she want him to? She knew she didn’t want any other woman to be with him. A sour roll went through her tummy. Did she even have anyone of whom to be jealous? Dorian didn’t have a ring on his finger, but she also knew that there were men out there who didn’t wear them. Hell, did werewolves even have wedding rings?
“What’s wrong?”
She glanced at Dorian as they walked along hand in hand. “Nothing. Why?”
“There was a change in your scent. What are you thinking about?”
She let loose a small laugh. “You can tell my moods by my scent?”
“In a way. The more I’m around you, the better I’ll become at knowing what each scent change is exactly. But for now I can smell a slight bitterness, which tells me something is bothering you. Your scent gets sweeter when you’re happy.”
“Hmm.”
“Does this bother you?”
She shrugged. “Maybe a little. I’m used to my thoughts being private.”
“Then I won’t say anything when I notice a difference.”
“Just because you don’t say anything doesn’t mean you still won’t know, so I guess it doesn’t really make a difference.”
“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
“I know. You’re different. And there are just some things I’m going to have to get used to.”
He squeezed her hand as they approached the Cave. Music drifted from inside the dimly lit interior, reaching her ears. The live band played very well. Dorian led her by the entrance of the club. Well, apparently he didn’t have dancing or drinks in mind. The hall dead-ended at a brick wall a short ways down. He tugged on her hand, leading her to the left.
Had she not been looking for it, she’d have never noticed the hidden narrow staircase. “Where does it go?”
“The dungeon.”
Her eyelids peeled back as she jerked her hand from his. “Oh no. Why in the world would I want to go down into a creepy dungeon? Have you not heard all the ghost stories running around this place? Hell, you’re probably old enough to have been present during some of the deaths.”
He rolled his eyes and reached out, snatching her hand back. “No ghosties will be getting you, lass. It’s not bad as it seems.”
“Heh.”
He pulled her into his embrace and kissed her lips. “Come on, lass. I won’t let anything happen to ya.”
What the hell? Why not go down the scary staircase? “All right.” He smiled in victory and she growled at him. Laughter bounced off the stone walls and echoed down the staircase as Dorian chuckled. She couldn’t stop a smile from spreading across her own lips.
“Growling, love?”
She sobered. Love?
“Come on, then.”
She didn’t question him. Placing one foot in front of the other, she let him guide her to the steps. It would be difficult to hold his hand, so she let him go and grasped the thin iron rail, the metal cold beneath her fingers. Slow and steady she followed him down the spiraling staircase. Electric wall lanterns cast an eerie glow. The lower they descended, the more chilled she became. A shiver rippled down her body. With each breath, she noticed the air had become thicker and wet. For the humidity to be so high she had to admit that the absence of mold and mildew spoke highly of the cleaning staff.
They arrived at a stone landing and Dorian led her to the right, down a short curved passage. The ceiling and walls were rounded like a tunnel and she couldn’t help the slight feeling of claustrophobia that took hold.
“Easy, lass. We’ll be out of this area shortly.”
The scent thing again. She didn’t want him to know that she was spooked. How in the hell would she make sure he took her with him when he left to hunt Grady if she couldn’t even handle a dungeon? She sucked in a breath and willed her nerves to steady.