Shadows of the Keeper by Karey Brown Page A

—coffee
nearly spewed from her mouth over that ridiculous title.  No, no
magazine .  They could find their own dates.  For herself, she had
a HOT dream lover not even her favorite author could pen.  Emily’s cheeks
flamed.  Her neck throbbed.  So do other places, for that matter . 
She could feel heat staining her cheeks.  Mr. Sandman had been uber
generous last night.  And I reciprocated by being rather brazen with my
phantom lover.   Darting her gaze over her table partners, they seemed
oblivious to her odious memories.  Emily floated through her memories,
desperate to hold the phantom’s fading image.  If only he were real,
fangs and all.  And naked.  Definitely naked . 
Needing a distraction, her gaze wandered over the rim of her cup. 
    Obsidian eyes impaled her.
    What the hell ?   Has
there ever been a more exasperating man?  He’s forever pissed—Sir
Pissed.  If not for his permanent scowl and his sewage-stench-attitude,
he’d be gorgeous too.   Emily inwardly cringed remembering her brief
encounter with him yesterday.  He’d been bent at the waist, shoeing a
horse.  She’d come up from behind, enjoying the full view of his—
    “Did ye’ sleep well, lass?”
    Emily jumped, her knee smacking the
underside of the table.  “Yes, thank you, uh . . . “
    “Colin.  I’m the resident
doctor.”  Several coughed into their fists and muttered words beyond
Emily’s hearing.  “Yer’ eyes look a bit glassy, milady.”  Colin
grinned, stealing looks over his shoulder every few seconds towards Broc. 
The laird continued to glare at Emily as if they were the only two in this
massive hall.  Worse, she noticed all the men stealing looks
between herself and their laird. 
    “Yes, Colin, I slept well. Until
that rude cat decided to wake me up in the most uncanny way.”  She reached
for the decanter and refilled her coffee . . . and noticed their lunatic
grinning had terminated.  “Are we only allowed one cup?  I’m so
sorry.  I didn’t know—“
    “No, no, mi’ lady, by all means,
enjoy your coffee.  ‘Tis a savory—“
    “Is he choking?”  Emily started
to rise, Aedan’s face as crimson as his hair.
    “He’ll live,” Broc stated. 
“For the moment.”  His tone sliced across the room.  Almost, she
checked to see if she bled.  “What-of-the-cat?”
    “Uh, well,”  Emily didn’t
appreciate how he enunciated each word with his teeth clenched.  This
is really becoming too much.  Anything having to do with me, sets him into
a teeth-gnashing rage.  How many times have I asked to leave here ? 
Which brought to mind the catastrophe of her attempted escape upon horseback—the
beast had nipped her shoulder and chased her up to the very front door!  Even
the fucking animals are my wardens !  If Peter hadn’t taken our
wedding plans, my dress, our honeymoon reservations and used it all to marry
another—that bitch even wore my dress, though I did hear she had to let out
several inches around the chest and waist . . . it’s the little things . . .
and his father in on the entire scheme, sending me here on this trumped up real
estate purchase—men need to come with warning labels. No, Broc-Butthead, it’s
really not my fault that I’m here.  Well, yes, it is because I’m gullible,
but I really don’t want to impose on you any longer. Gah.  Last night’s
plea fell on deaf ears.  Which is why I’m not saying shit to him again. 
I’m leaving, one way or another.
    “Lass, yer’ starin’,” Garreck
whispered.  “An ye’ might want ta’ answer the laird.  Mornings aren’t
his best time o’ day.”
    “As opposed to the rest of the time
we’re graced with Sir Yells A Lot?”
    “Och, lass, ye’v a penchant fer’
death.”
    Emily smiled at Garreck and waggled
her brows.  “It’s a gift.”
    Broc’s voice was cold and
exact.  “I will have you tell me about the cat. ”
    “No.” Emily stuck out her
tongue.  “Brute.”
    Grim Reaper shot