Tamsin fingered the sheer fabric. “Do high sidhe ladies really wear this sort of thing, or is Maeve insulting me again?”
“Both.” Cuan’s mouth quirked ruefully. “A high sidhe lady would wear this over a layer of glamour to obscure her body. Or strategically reveal it, depending on who was watching. Lady Maeve is making a rather pointed comment on your lack of magic.”
“Why am I not surprised.” Tamsin folded her arms. “I’m not wearing that thing. No matter how much of a snub it is to Maeve.”
Cuan gazed thoughtfully down at the dress.
“It occurs to me,” he said slowly, “that you will look extremely lovely in this gown. So much that were you to try it on, the sight might well madden me beyond all reason.”
Tamsin could feel an evil grin spreading over her face. “You mean, you might rip the fabric from my body?”
His faemarks gleamed with a ripple of blue-green fire. “I am a beast. Notoriously so.”
“What a pity it would be if the dress was damaged beyond repair. Particularly if it meant there wasn’t time for Maeve to send me a new one.”
“Truly tragic,” Cuan agreed solemnly.
“You know…” Tamsin glanced at the gold and leather harness Maeve had sent Cuan. “I think we should both try our outfits on. Just to make sure they fit.”
Cuan picked up the gold collar, running it through his fingers. His glowing faemarks brightened.
“You never did explain what use such an item would be during…certain activities,” he said, his voice dropping back to that bone-deep growl.
Tamsin took the collar from him. She stretched up on her toes, nipples brushing against his chest, and felt Cuan catch his breath. Her own body was already thrumming with anticipation as she buckled the collar around his neck.
“Got any rope?” she murmured into his ear.