Jeremiah outdid himself with dinner preparations. The room had been transformed into an elegant fine dining experience complete with candles and a live violinist. For about a half a second I thought maybe he went through all this trouble for me, but when he greeted Graham, I knew Jeremiah could care less that I was present.
“Master Forrester,” he said with a grand bow. “It is such an honor to have you back in my home. I hope your travels were uneventful, mate.”
“I’m not your mate Jeremiah, and yes, so far the company I’ve traveled with has made this trip bearable.” I was flattered by the compliment even if it was a backhanded one.
“Ah, yes. Who wouldn’t be privileged to travel with the beautiful Miss Dumahl?”
“It’s Mistress now,” Graham said and detangled himself from Jeremiah’s grasp. “I expect you to show her the respect she deserves.”
Jeremiah threw back his shoulders and feigned shock. “Why, I would never disrespect Mistress Dumahl. She is way too valuable to us all.” That last comment was directed at Graham and it had an undertone of sarcasm. I didn’t have time to digest it because Jeremiah began pulling me to the far end of the table. “Eviana, may I call you Eviana? I’m so privileged to work with you. If I would’ve known what you were capable of, things may have been a little different the last time you were here.”
My eyes darted across the table toward Graham to see if he knew what Jeremiah was referring to. His face remained perfectly blank as he sat down in the chair opposite me. Jeremiah claimed the head of the table and as soon as we were seated, individual wine glasses and a small cheese platter was placed in front of us. Jeremiah reached for the cheese and Graham downed his wine in one swallow before speaking.
“Yes, we all heard about your demonstration when Eviana and your cousin came to visit.” Graham shook his head. “Poor taste, mate. Poor taste.”
Jeremiah let the comment slide, but I did notice a slight tensing in his shoulders. His long blond hair hung freely down his back and the red robe he wore over his clothes reminded me of a pimp more than an actor. “Ah, don’t be so critical. I hear that’s nothing compared to what our Eviana showed the Council.”
At first I wanted to cringe at the term “our Eviana” and then panicked a little when I realized how much Jeremiah knew. He might officially be shunned, but he certainly had eyes and ears all over the place.
“No, it wasn’t even close to the same thing,” I spat out.
“You made them dance. And you stole them from Adele.” He placed his hand on top of mine. “That is no easy feat.”
Quickly jerking my hand away, I yelled, “You almost killed your staff! That is hardly in the same caliber as making them do the chicken dance!”
“Tomatoes, tomahtoes,” he flicked his hand at the old saying and I wanted to argue more about how we were nothing alike. I might have this power but I didn’t want to dominate humans like Jeremiah did. No, we were two totally different people with dissimilar ideas on how best to use our compulsion skills.
The rest of dinner seemed to evolve around the same few conversation topics. Jeremiah was apparently extremely interested in Graham’s rise to power and he used that position to try and find out more about what Lucian Sutherland was doing. It had been almost two hours and I’d had enough.
“He’s killing our kind!” I finally blurted out. They’d been talking as though I wasn’t in the room and my patience had expired. “He killed my mother right in front of me. He snapped her neck like a bird and then forced me into leadership hoping I would side with him.”
“Oh no dear, he didn’t force you into leadership. It was your birthright. He just happened to hedge the wrong bets.”
“What do you mean, Jeremiah?” I asked, tired of his sing-song voice and cryptic tongue.
“He knew what you could do, he just bet wrong when it came to you siding with him.”
“Well, regardless. He must be stopped and that’s why I’m here. I need better control and I need it now.” The crooked smile that appeared on Jeremiah’s lips was enough to make me down the rest of my wine like a regular drinker. I caught Graham’s amused expression and gave him a look that dared him to challenge me. He smiled and refilled my glass.
“We’ll start in the morning. Meet me at the pool at ten.” Jeremiah looked behind him at one of the scantily clad female wait staff and pulled her arm closer to his face. I didn’t know what he was going to do until I saw him glance at her watch. “It’s time for me to go. Please enjoy the dessert and wine and treat this house as though it were your own,” he said as he rose. Grabbing the hands of two human females, he started to make his way toward the foyer. “On second thought, you might want to avoid the pool tonight. The sprites have been mating again and that might get a little too intense for you.”
I made a face as Jeremiah’s laughter echoed through the room and he walked away with several females following close behind. My second wine glass was almost empty, so I finished it with one gulp. It wasn’t until I put it down that I caught Graham’s wry smile.
“I’m thirsty,” I said in defiance.
“I see that,” he replied with a smirk.
“He gives me the creeps.”
Graham tilted his glass back and swallowed the wine. I think it was at least his third. When finished, he lifted the empty goblet toward me. “Me too, luv.”
“Why do you always say that?” I asked without thinking. Perhaps two glasses of wine were one too many for me.
“Say what, luv?”
“Luv,” I imitated in his English accent and raised my eyebrows. “It’s kind of condescending.”
“I thought it was kind of adorable,” he replied instantly.
“It’s not.”
“Well, what should I call you then?”
“Mistress Dumahl,” I said instantly with a sinful grin.
“No, I think not.” He rubbed his hands on his chin like he was smoothing his beard. “How about birdie?”
“No.”
“Well then maybe you prefer wench or hussy?” he continued teasing.
“Or how about you don’t need a nickname for me at all?” I twirled the empty wine glass in my hand deciding whether or not it was worth having another. As though reading my thoughts, Graham jumped up and walked around the head of the table. He reached down and pulled me out of the chair.
“Come along, tart. I have just the remedy for you.”
I tried to resist but his hands tightened on my shoulders. “Oh, that is so not going to fly with me.”
“Tart it is then!” he exclaimed with satisfaction. “We need something much stronger than that wine if we’re going to survive the week with Jeremiah.”
Those words instantly sobered me up. “Do you really think it’s going to be a whole week?” Even though I’d assumed longer, after the dinner tonight, I wanted to get out of here as soon as possible.
“Afraid so, tart.” I elbowed him in the ribs and he seemed to be genuinely hurt.
“Why did you do that?”
“I’m not your tart,” I replied, imitating his earlier comment to Jeremiah.
“Where did you learn to fight?” He was still rubbing his side but his face filled with curiosity.
“Palmer’s been teaching me.” I sighed, thinking about how much I was going to miss being away from our little boot camp in California.
“Yeah?” I nodded. We passed through the foyer and into a room that I could only describe as a study or library. Three of the four walls were covered with dark wood bookshelves, but Graham directed us toward the bar on the far side of the room.
“Yes. And I’m going to get behind now.”
“Well, I’ll teach you, tart.”
“Stop calling me tart,” I replied before really listening to his comment. “You’ll teach me what?”
“To fight.”
I stepped away and looked him up and down like a boxer eying up her competition. “You?” I huffed dramatically. Apparently all of my apprehension about being around one of the most gorgeous guys in the world had remained in the dining room along with my inhibitions. “I just about killed you with an elbow to the ribs. What could you possibly teach me?”
“Oh, so much,” he said with a growl. Heat instantly darted through my body and my heart hammered in my chest. “But when it comes to fighting, I’ve been well trained.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really,” he scoffed. “You’re not the only one who wants to be able to protect herself.” I thought about that. Training with Graham would at least keep my mind off of why I was here in the first place. Plus, it might make this entire trip a bit more fun.
“Okay,” I said.
“Yeah?”
“Yep. When do we start?”
“Right now,” he said while pouring a clear liquid into two shot glasses. Holding one up to me he said, “Come over here, tart.” I rolled me eyes and he laughed. Taking the tiny glass in my hands, I sniffed the liquid and instantly wrinkled my nose.
“What is this?”
“Doesn’t matter. If I beat you, you drink.”
“Beat me in what?” He stepped back, leaned down, and placed one elbow against the bar with his hand up in the air. I snorted. “Arm wrestling?”
“Scared?”
“No.”
“Then let’s go. Best of three. Consider it your audition.”
“Audition for what?”
“To see if you’re worthy of my time.” His arrogance was astounding and without hesitating, I grabbed his hand and slammed it down into the bar. “I wasn’t ready!” he cried.
“Losers drink,” I said with a smirk. He stared at me with something that bordered desire. Once he refilled his glass, he grabbed my hand again and the challenge was on.
Five minutes later, it was all over and I’d been forced to take two nasty shots. I don’t know if it was the wine or what, but for some reason they didn’t seem as potent as I’d expected.
“Okay, so try and attack me,” Graham said while standing in the middle of the floor in a wrestler’s stance. He crouched low to the ground and I had to laugh at seeing him in this position. “What’s so funny, tart?” That got my attention and I lunged.
Either he wasn’t ready, or I was getting better, but after only a few blocked punches I had the clear shot to the back of his legs. He went down with a bang and I landed on top of him to attempt a choke hold. It seemed a little too easy.
“Why aren’t you fighting back?” I sat straddled over his waist and leaned close enough to smell the alcohol on his breath. Instead of pushing me off, he smiled.
“I am. I’m resisting temptation.”
“What?”
And then I got it. I tried to move off of him but his hands were on me so fast I didn’t even know what happened until my back hit the ground and Graham was the one on top of me. He had my arms pinned to my sides and for all intents and purposes, I was trapped.
“Get off of me.”
“Mmm,” he breathed along the side of my face. “What is it about you Eviana Dumahl?” He spoke directly into my ear and that alone sent shivers down my spine. I wasn’t scared but I was afraid of what I might do next. He slid down so that he was practically lying on top of me, forcing my arms over the top of my head and looking at me with an expression that dared me to fight. I wasn’t fighting. I couldn’t move.
“I think that you should get off of me now,” I squeezed out past the lump in my throat. He was so close that I could kiss him. But I couldn’t do that. Not now. Brendan was coming back to me and I wasn’t going to mess it up by kissing another guy.
“I should, shouldn’t I?” Graham said as he moved his mouth closer to my lips. I could always use the alcohol as an excuse but I didn’t think I needed one. I wanted him to kiss me and I wanted him to kiss me now. He suddenly rested his forehead against mine and sighed. “I win,” he mumbled.
“Fine,” I conceded wishing that he hadn’t turned his head. His eyes met mine again and we stared at each other for what seemed like hours. I still didn’t have use of my arms, but if I did, I’m pretty sure I would’ve wrapped them around his neck and pulled his lips to mine.
“Fine,” he breathed back. He suddenly bent down and kissed me quickly on the lips but stood before I even had a chance to react. Pulling me off the ground he stepped away and walked back to the bar. He didn’t face me when he spoke again and I saw him pour another shot. “You should go. You’ve got a long day tomorrow.”
I knew when I was being dismissed and something inside of me crumbled. I was being rejected. Not quite giving up I asked, “So will you train me?”
He turned around and snorted a laugh. “I’ll train you even if it’s going to kill me to do so.”
I knew I was blushing now and I couldn’t help but smile at knowing the attraction was at least somewhat mutual. My pride needed the reassurance. “Okay then. Goodnight, Graham.”
“Night, tart.”
I walked upstairs to my room, stumbling a little along the way. Apparently the shots were now in full effect and it was probably a good thing my raging hormones were far away from the hot mess of temptation downstairs. I needed to clear my head fast, so I took a long shower and climbed into bed wondering if Graham would knock on my door. Pushing that silly thought away, I tried to focus instead on Brendan. He was the one I loved and we were going to get a second chance together. I hadn’t heard from him yet, but he would call. Someday soon.
