Truth or Demon

CHAPTER 19

Why had she said that? Her comment sounded petty and jealous. Or worse yet, like some sort of challenge.

But it was out now, so all she could do was focus on why they were here. Finding him a woman. And maybe—maybe, chatting with a few men herself.

She looked around the pub, surveying the place. She’d walked by many times, but had never been inside. The atmosphere was quaint with brick walls and molded tin ceilings. A long bar made of glossy stained wood took up most of one wall. There were tables and chairs littering the rest of the room. At the far end was a spot for a band to play.

But the only music was from a CD jukebox mounted on the wall in the far corner.

And there was one thing there was no shortage of—women.

A large table surrounded by women was centered in the middle of the pub. And they had already spotted Killian, eyeing him like predators stalking their prey, hopeful and hungry.

Several leaned closer to say something, clearly about him. Then they smiled, white teeth and glossed lips glistening in the low light.

Poppy knew this was why he was here, why she was here with him, but she still found the ladies rather disturbing.

She glanced at him and found he was looking around, seemingly oblivious to the stir he was causing.

Then he touched her arm.

“Table or bar?”

Poppy blinked. He really hadn’t even noticed the pack of women licking their chops and getting ready to bring him down like a felled buck.

“Umm …” she said, noticing that the nearest empty table was dangerously close to the women.

“There are two seats right there.” She pointed to a couple of vacant stools at the end of the bar. “How about the bar?”

They would be a safe distance away from the waiting vultures.

He nodded and led her toward them. This time, he placed his hand on the small of her back, and even though she wore her jacket, she would swear she could feel the heat of his hand.

Imagination, she told herself, even as she shivered from the sensation.

“Cold?”

Not at all, but she nodded. “A little.”

Relief flooded her as she slid onto the barstool and away from his touch.

A bartender appeared.

Killian gestured for her to order first.

She was usually more of a coffee and tea drinker, but she did have the occasional wine with dinner. And tonight seemed like a good time for wine too. If she was going to have to watch scads of women vie for Killian’s attention, then she needed something to take the edge off.

“A pinot noir.”

The bartender listed a few brands.

“The first one,” Poppy said with a slightly embarrassed smile.

“And I’ll try the pale ale,” Killian said. He smiled when the bartender left. “Not a wine aficionado, huh?”

She smiled back, still feeling a little self-conscious. “Not really. I usually buy whatever wine has the prettiest or most interesting label.”

Killian chuckled, the sound rich and low. An amazing laugh.

“Yeah, I don’t know much about wine myself. I’m more of a scotch drinker.”

“Scotch—” She shuddered. “Now that I couldn’t handle at all.”

He laughed again, and Poppy was willing to bet the women at the table behind them would swoon at the sound of it. Poppy certainly felt a little light-headed.

And then there was his smile. No! This was exactly why she was here. So he could find someone, and she could forget how amazing his smile was.

The bartender returned with their drinks, and she took a large gulp of the wine. Not her usual way of enjoying a glass of vino, but her nerves were already frayed. And they just got here.

“So, I think you have your pick tonight,” she said, turning on her stool to face the rest of the room. He did the same.

“Mmm,” he answered, but she couldn’t tell if he was impressed with the selection or not.

Then she remembered his aversion to blondes. Well, four of the ten were out of the running right off the top. And one had light brown hair with highlights, so Poppy wasn’t sure if she’d make the cut or not.

They were all pretty, though. And well dressed. Well, one of the brunettes was wearing something that looked a little trashy and desperate in Poppy’s opinion, but maybe Killian liked that look.

Poppy slid him a glance to see which one captured his attention, but he wasn’t looking at the table. He perused the bar instead.

Maybe none of the women were to his liking, which was too bad, because they were very much liking him. A couple of them stretched their necks like turtles, trying to catch his eye.

“Excuse me.”

Poppy looked over to see that a woman had come up on the other side of Killian. A sneak attack like a gator lunging out of the water to pull down a drinking deer.

Okay, maybe her animal analogies were getting a little out of control, but Killian was causing quite the reaction and the women here were definitely on the prowl.

The woman beside Killian was pretty. Prettier than a gator, to be sure. About the same age as Poppy with long, wavy hair. Auburn, which was good. Gray-green eyes. A black wrap dress that was sexy and stylish at the same time.

Poppy suddenly felt a bit frumpy in her sweater and jeans. But at least she wasn’t wearing one of her T-shirts.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but you look so familiar to me.”

She smiled to reveal perfectly white teeth. Definitely bonded. And as far as pickup lines went, well …

“Sorry,” Killian said, offering the woman a quick, impersonal smile. “I’m sure we haven’t met.”

She pursed her mauve-painted lips, thinking. “I was sure we had. Are you from around here?”

He shook his head. “No.”

Poppy had to admit she was enjoying this. Killian must not be interested in this one, because he definitely wasn’t giving her the reception she wanted. Unless he didn’t realize that he could have said they’d met on the moon, and this woman would have gone along with it.

The woman tilted her head, batting her eyes. “I just know I’ve seen you somewhere before.”

Killian opened his mouth, and from the look on his face, Poppy suspected his next comment wasn’t going to be even as polite as his last ones. So Poppy spoke first.

“You probably recognize him from television.”

The woman’s eyes widened with dawning excitement, acknowledging Poppy for the first time.

“Television?” she said, her attention coming right back to Killian.

Killian was paying total attention to Poppy. He narrowed his eyes at her before the woman began her barrage of questions.

“What do you do on TV? Do you have your own show? Have you been in movies?”

Killian shook his head. “I’m not really—”

“He’s not really one to brag,” Poppy finished for him. “He’s got his own show about the paranormal. He’s a paranormal investigator.”

The woman raised her perfectly tweezed brows. “Really? That’s such an interesting job.”

“Isn’t it?” Poppy agreed.

Killian shot Poppy an aggravated scowl. Poppy smiled back.

Oh, Poppy was enjoying this way too much.

Killian glared at her, and her smile only widened. That cute little dimple in her left cheek appeared. Some of his irritation faded. She really was lovely. Pale skin, those dark eyes that drew him in. And that smile. That impish smile.

“Tell her about your research, Killian,” she said, her eyes sparkling like dark smoky quartz.

He narrowed a glare at her again, then turned back to the redhead beside him. Really, the woman was quite attractive. She definitely filled out her clothing perfectly with ample breasts and flared hips.

But as he looked at her, he found himself thinking about smaller breasts and subtler curves.

Damn it. He was doing it again. He could not be attracted to Poppy.

Yet he couldn’t stop himself from glancing at her again. She still grinned, clearly amused by his discomfort at dealing with this woman.

Well, maybe he should show her. Would she be so amused if he turned all his attention to Jessica Rabbit here?

“I am in Boston to research places where there are reputed hauntings. For a television show I’m developing.”

The redhead nodded, her grayish-green eyes wide with interest.

“That’s exciting.”

“Yes,” he said. “I had a show that was very popular in Sweden. It was one of the top-rated shows every week it aired.”

“Really? And you are from Sweden?”

He nodded. “Ja.”

Quickly the conversation with the redhead took off, although he was only half aware of what she was saying. The other half was fully attuned to Poppy.

Poppy sat listening and, at first, he didn’t think she was bothered by the interaction between them. But gradually, he noticed Poppy start to fidget. Her foot tapped on one of the rungs of the stool. She looked around. She checked her cell phone. Once he thought he heard her sigh.

Finally, she interrupted them.

“I’m running to the restroom. Would you mind ordering me another pinot noir?”

Killian nodded, acting as if he could barely drag himself away from the redhead’s scintillating conversation.

But as Poppy slid off the stool and started toward the back of the bar, he couldn’t stop himself from watching her. The subtle, lissome sway of her hips, the delicious curve of her backside.

His body reacted, and he had to shift on his seat.

“So is she a friend?” the redhead asked, the question almost comical given what he was feeling at the moment.

He looked back to the woman. “Yes. She is.”

The woman, whom he thought was named Lisa. Maybe Liza. Liz? Whatever her name was, she smiled.

“Well, she’s a lucky woman to have a friend like you.”

Killian frowned. What did that even mean?

He glanced toward the back of the bar. Poppy was gone.

He suddenly wondered why he’d been bothering to talk to this woman. To make Poppy jealous? That wasn’t the goal of the night.

Right now, he just wanted to get rid of this woman.

“Actually,” he found himself saying to the redhead, “Poppy is my girlfriend.”

“She is?” The woman didn’t look convinced.

“Yes.”

The redhead placed a hand on her hip. “A man like you? With a mousy little thing like her?”

Killian stared at the woman, stunned by her tactlessness. Which was something, given whom she was talking to.

He didn’t even hesitate.

Go away. And don’t come back.

The woman blinked, but then mumbled some reason to excuse herself, although she clearly didn’t understand why she was doing so.

Killian nodded, then turned back to the bar before she had even walked away.

Good riddance. He was here for Poppy. And he would stay focused on his task from now on.

Poppy walked into the women’s room, fighting the urge to kick the door of one of the bathroom stalls. Why had she actually encouraged that woman?

Now she was going to spend the evening listening to those two chatter and laugh, while she sat there like some dull little wallflower. And all because she thought she was going to somehow make him uncomfortable.

Did people who looked like those two ever feel uncomfortable?

She wandered over to the mirror and stared at her reflection. She turned her head one way, then the other. She knew she looked better than she usually did. But when compared to people like Killian and that woman out there—well, she was just a plain Jane at best.

She studied herself a moment longer, then she opened her purse and pulled out a tube of clear lip gloss. She dabbed some on her lips, rubbing them together. She fluffed her hair, wishing the fine tresses had more body.

Ah, well, tonight wasn’t about her anyway. This was Killian’s time to find a new love interest—so encouraging him to chat with other women was exactly what she needed to do.

Maybe she’d find some guy to chat up, not that the idea appealed to her much. But she straightened her posture and lifted her chin.

This wasn’t about her, but she wasn’t going to look like some pathetic tagalong of Killian’s. She was going to smile and laugh too.

As she stepped out of the ladies’ room, she saw Killian. He was hard to miss. He was like a golden angel. His light brown hair reflected gold highlights in the low lamplight. His skin was warm and golden too. And although she couldn’t see his eyes from here, she knew their color as if she’d looked into them all her life. A golden amber. Molten and beautiful.

Suddenly, Killian was blocked from view, and Poppy collided with someone or something.

“Oh!” she said, her hands shooting out to balance herself. Hands at her hips did the same thing, and she registered it was a someone she’d run into.

“I’m sor—” she started, looking up to see a man with a bald head, wire-rimmed glasses, a goatee and blue eyes that Poppy hadn’t seen for years, but still recognized as if she’d just seen them yesterday.

“Sorry,” he said, then those blue eyes grew huge behind his glasses. “Poppy? Poppy Reed?”