Tom raised an eyebrow-that Charles handled the Marrok's finances... and was very good at it, was pretty well-known.
Charles tilted his head. "If you decide you want to buy a Mercedes, you might have to pull out both cards. Go. Conquer downtown Seattle so I don't have to."
"Banished." Anna sighed, but she couldn't hide the humor that softened her expression as she gathered her jacket and purse. But he took her comment seriously.
"Not permanently," he said. "We'll go and introduce you to Arthur more properly tonight. You'll know Tom and Moira by the end of today. I think that if we keep you out of the auditorium today, everything will work itself out."
"Tomorrow night Angus has invited everyone to our hunting grounds," Tom said.
Charles nodded. "That will be less formal, and everyone will be paying attention to the hunters. Give them some chance to observe you without staring and vice versa."
"Where do you hunt?" she asked Tom. "By the airstrip?"
Tom shook his head. "Angus has a pair of warehouses."
"It's cool," said Moira. "He's turned the whole thing into a maze-tunnels, lots of half stories and walls that can be moved to change it up. You'll have a great time."
"What are we hunting?" Anna's voice had lost the tautness of stress.
"A treasure," said Tom. "The exact nature of which is a surprise. We dragged stuff all over the warehouse yesterday." He glanced down. "Wolves eat fast. If we're going to leave, we ought to get out now."
Anna gave Charles a shy kiss on the cheek and strolled out of the room without a backward glance. Until she reached the doorway, and then, in full view of the curious who'd had the courage or discourtesy to linger in the auditorium after he'd dismissed them, she kissed her palm and blew it to him.
And despite... or because of their audience, he caught it in one hand, and pulled the hand to his heart. Her smile dropped away, and the expression in her eyes would feed him for a week. And the expressions on the faces of the wolves who knew Charles, or knew his reputation, would make him laugh as soon as no one was watching. Keeping them off balance wasn't a bad thing either.
SHE wondered that the cards Charles had given her hadn't burned their way out of her purse from the blaze of frictional heat. They'd already dropped one load of shopping at the hotel and had just completed the last bit.
"We're about halfway between the hotel and Angus's offices," she said. "Which way should we head?"
"I'll take you back to Charles," said Tom.
"If you're going to eat with that stuck-up Brit, you need to get ready," advised Moira over the top of him. "Go to the hotel and start on it. You have a cell, your mate has a cell. If he doesn't know where to find you, he can call."
Anna looked at Tom.
He shrugged, his face not looking half as meek as his words. "You think I'm going to argue with her, you've got another think coming."
Moira bumped him with her hip. "Ooo. You're so scared of me."
The big, scary wolf grinned, his mouth pulled a little by the scar on his face. "Truth. Nothing but the truth." He spoiled it by rubbing the top of her head, then he kept his hand where it was so he could stay out of reach as she batted at him.
Anna had quit being nervous around him after the first hour as he patiently led them from one store to another. She'd heard of Pike Place Market for years... and at first she hadn't been that impressed. It looked like just another flea market... with fresh fruit and fish.
Then Moira began tugging her here and there to this little store and that little booth-for a blind woman she was a heck of a shopper. And Tom was always in the right place to put his arm out to guide her and murmur low-voiced warnings as they dodged around other shoppers and across the uneven floor.
Tom was consulted about fit and color while Moira fingered fabrics and dickered with the shopkeepers. The result was that for less than she'd spent on a couple of pairs of jeans in high school, she had the beginnings of a whole wardrobe. When the booth didn't take credit, Tom paid despite Anna's protests.
"Calm down," he told her. "Charles is good for it." The last statement seemed to amuse him.
She also acquired a whole slew of Christmas presents as ordered. Last year she'd been afraid (and too broke) to send presents to her father and brother. This year she... she and Charles had them and all of Charles's family and a double handful of others to buy for.
The conference would run through Christmas-she had the impression that there had been some incident that had stepped up the Marrok's timetable. Charles had been gone for a couple of days and returned even more grim than usual. He hadn't volunteered where he'd gone or what he'd done, and she'd been too intimidated by his oppressive silence to ask. It had been the next day that the Marrok began planning this summit-and he and Charles had begun to fight about it.
She'd found a pair of small gold hoop earrings with round bits of rough amber for Charles-to replace the one he'd given to the troll. And at the same shop, she broke down and bought a cheaper, more dangly pair for herself. She felt guilty about it-but maybe she could pay him back for them. They had been cheaper than they would have been in Chicago.
She came out of a little shop the proud new owner of three silk shirts-and her gaze caught on the display window of a store a few doors down.
"What?" Moira said urgently. "What is it, Tom?"
"A quilt, I think," he rumbled. "Jeez, Moira, if the two of you buy anything more, I'm going to have to help carry stuff-and that makes me a lousy guard."
The quilt was trimmed with narrow strips of red and green, the colors of the old Pendleton blankets. On the interior, there were four squares and a center section that was round. The square panels were abstract mountain scenes of the same mountain, the top two were daylight, spring and summer. The bottom were night, fall and winter. The center panel was deep mottled green with the red silhouette of a wolf howling.