Jaimie: Fire and Ice (The Wilde Sisters 2)

“I just told you, I don’t need to—What do you think you’re doing?”

He didn’t bother answering. Why would he, when his actions spoke for themselves? In a series of easy motions, he clasped her left hand and drew her arm into the sleeve, did the same with her right, and tied the sash in a perfect square knot at her waist.

She knew it was a square knot because she’d been a Girl Scout for probably twenty minutes endless years ago, before she’d realized being a Scout meant camping out in a tent.

Except, he didn’t tie it at her waist.

He tied it around her hips because the robe was enormous on her.

Was it his?

Had he worn it over that beautiful body that was no longer half-naked? What a pity. He was a mean-tempered, unpleasant man but he was lovely to look at, and God, he was big. Incredibly big. He was barefoot, she was wearing spiked heels, and she still had to look up at him, look up to see those amazing eyes...

To see the fire blazing in those eyes. Green fire. Green flame. So hot. So incredibly hot...

Jaimie’s heartbeat quickened. She took a step back. After what seemed an eternity, so did he.

“OK,” he said brusquely, “that’s good. The robe will warm you. So will a drink. Whisky. Wine. Brandy. Which do you prefer?”

She shook her head. “I told you, don’t want anything. Where is Mr. Castelianos? You said he’d be down to see me.”

Zach took two glasses from the cabinet. He’d had a glass around here somewhere before but he had no idea where, and what did it matter? All that counted was completing his good deed for the day and saying adios.

He opened the Macallan, poured a shot into each glass, and held hers out.

“Change of plans.”

“For heaven’s sake, I keep telling you that I don’t want a drink. And what do you mean, change of plans?”

“Thank you.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“It’s polite to say thank you when somebody offers you something.”

If looks could kill, he’d be dead because hers was lethal. His mystery guest was losing her cool. That might prove interesting. Hell, this was already interesting. He was enjoying himself. Enjoying her. And a little comic relief was just what he needed tonight.

“Thank you.”

She all but spat the words at him. He put on what he hoped was a solemn expression.

“You’re welcome. Now, take the glass and drink the whisky.”

“I told you—”

“It’ll take the chill off, and the sooner that happens, the sooner you can leave.”

Thunder and a slashing ribbon of lightning punctuated his words. Jaimie tried not to flinch, but she did. The huge room was pretty much all glass. It was all that separated her from the tempest that surrounded them.

The man who stood before her might have been a creature spawned of that tempest.

She could sense it.

There was a wildness to him, a kind of savagery. Not that she was afraid of him. She wasn’t. This was a different kind of savagery.

It was male.

Primal.