Knight of Wands (Knights of the Tarot Book 1) Read Free Page B

hair and a willowy figure in a black pantsuit. When he saw none of those things, a sick frightened feeling took him over.
    Duncan touched his arm. “Callum? Are you all right?”
    He wasn’t. Not by a long shot. Though he wasn’t sure whether it was the lass leaving or Duncan’s unexpected suggestion that had thrown him off-kilter. He dragged his hand down his face. “I’m fine. Just knackered is all.”
    “I’m sorry about the lass.” Duncan checked his wristwatch as he rose from the table. “I guess it just wasn’t in the stars. But come on. After a good meal, a few drinks, and a bit of verbal sparring, I’m certain you’ll feel better.”
    “I’m sure you’re right,” Callum said, even though he wasn’t. He should be relieved not to have to juggle a conquest and Duncan’s friends, but instead, he felt like a man who’d lost a sizable investment in what promised to be a sure thing.
    * * * *
    “Why did you disappear on me?”
    Vanessa’s heart jumped at the sound of the deep and dreamy Scottish burr she recognized as Callum Lyon’s. As she pivoted on her barstool, her knees grazed his thighs, shooting a thrilling dart straight to her sex. Taking a breath, she drank him in like an expensive specialty cocktail with more alcohol than was good for her. His long golden hair was pulled back, giving her a clear view of his chiseled features, tempting mouth, and dazzling topaz eyes.
    She didn’t normally care for beards, but his neatly trimmed one lent a sexy ruggedness to his Adonis-like appearance. He still wore the well-cut suit from earlier, but had shed the tie and opened the collar of his crisp white shirt. A tuft of golden hair peeked over the top button—a welcome teaser. She might not like beards, but she did appreciate a light dusting of manly chest hair.
    There was such power in his presence he almost seemed to glow with an inner light. His closeness, mixed with the booze in her system, was making her head spin. Forcing herself to concentrate, she said, “Let’s just say, I don’t like competition.”
    Her excuse wasn’t completely false, but neither was it wholly accurate. The real truth was, she’d suffered a fit of conscience and lost her nerve. As much as she wanted to get inside his castle—and his trousers—she couldn’t stop thinking about what the medium had said. If he was indeed her Knight of Wands, sleeping with him would endanger the thing she valued even more than her career.
    Her freedom.
    “She wasn’t competition,” he said with a heart-stopping smile. “She was a reporter who had business with my friend.”
    Vanessa looked around for Duncan Faol. “And where might your friend be now?”
    “In the restaurant, having a heated debate with his pack.”
    She blinked up at Lord Lyon, still reeling from his sudden appearance. “Why aren’t you with him?”
    “Because I’d rather be here,” he replied in a sultry way that heated her blood.
    She let her gaze run over him again. He had the leonine good looks characteristic of his sign. Did he also have the enormous ego, fierce temper, and suffocating possessiveness typical of those ruled by the sun? Probably. Not that it mattered. Whatever the cards might have intimated, she’d come to Scotland to find a vampire, not a husband.
    She offered him her coolest smile. “Then have a seat, Lord Lyon. Unless you’re in a rush to get back to your party.”
    Slipping onto the barstool with feline agility, he hailed the bartender—a dark-haired Scot named Robert who, for the past hour, had kept her glass full. She was staying at the inn and, sure she’d blown her first assignment, she’d stopped in for a nightcap both to take the sting out of her failure and to give her the courage to call Mr. Armstrong.
    “What can I get for you, Lord Lyon?”
    Clearly, the bartender knew the baron, or at least knew who he was. She now was glad she’d resisted the urge to question him about the Vampire of Barrogill. If he let it slip she’d