He stopped near a pot of simmering soup, clasped her by the waist, and hefted her onto a waist-high tree stump, putting them face-to-face. Their gaze caught for a moment. His attention dropped to her mouth before he got busy filling two clay bowls with the rich, creamy potage. One for her, one for him.
“Thank you,” she said softly. Trying to tune him out and gain control of her emotions, she dug in with a small wooden spoon. Mmm. Tasty. “Four and a half stars. Will eat here again.”
“If nothing else, I can satisfythishunger,” he muttered.
Seriously! Did he have to be so charming? “You know, I can so snag an organ from you right this second, yes? Probably two. Or more. Let me enjoy my meal in peace.” And maybe sneak a conversation with one of the fae-nymphs and get a message to Penelope.The enemy of my enemy is my friend.
“Lyla, you may take any organ at any time.” The heat in his eyes said what he didn’t.I’ve never forgotten. It’s foreplay.
She squirmed atop her stump. They finished the soup in charged silence.
“More?” he asked. “Dessert?”
“No thanks.” Now probably wasn’t the best time to indulge in a vice.
He placed their dishes in a basket partially filled with dirty utensils, then turned to help her down. As if she wasn’t a harpy in her prime, well able to hop off a perch, she waited to accept his assistance.
He clasped her waist, lifted her, and slid her down his body. Slowly. Tendrils of pleasure uncoiled. Her feet reached the ground, but she didn’t remove her hands from his shoulders. For balance. She breathed in the intoxicating aroma of cedarwood and spiced oranges, her head fogging.
Maybe she could indulge this vice instead?
“Is there something you’d like to do to me, Lyla?”
The low, rough quality of his voice caressed her ears, and she shivered. “I’ve already touched you today,” she stated, panting a little.
“I believe I’ve mentioned I’m good with doubling up.” His gaze dropped to her mouth again. “I have no limits with you.”
No limits. Because she was special. She melted into him, even as she chided him. “This has to stop.”
“This? What isthis?” He cupped her backside, massaging sore muscles. “I’m merely standing here. Breathing.”
No, he was tempting and smoldering and seducing. How could he affect her so strongly? How had her consort’s hold on her body lessened to such a degree, allowing it to happen? Had the father of her child been nothing more than a passing fancy? Why hadn’t she had any more hallucinations of him? That manticore had been the love of her life. Her addiction. Now he was regulated to be little more than a memory she took out of a box and played with occasionally...when she wasn’t playing with the Astra.
Shame and guilt stabbed her. How could she want Roux at all? If she were being honest, he didn’t look anything like Laban, so she couldn’t trick herself into blaming a resemblance between the two. Not anymore.
“You know exactly whatthisis.”
“Tell me.” A heated demand as he deepened his massage. “Let’s make sure we understand each other.”
Oh, they understood each other all right. More than she liked. “I mean it. D-don’t do this,” she said, ashamed of her desperation. A weakness only he inspired. If he kissed her, she would kiss him back.
Could she live with herself?
“I will notdo this, as you call it.” He released her and eased back. Promise glittered in his eyes. “Yet.”
The first rays of sunlight streamed through the bedroom windows. Blythe lay on the bed, where she’d tossed and turned all night, as usual. Roux wasn’t in his chair by the hearth, staring at her, at least. He’d shut himself inside the bathroom ages ago, leaving her alone with his parting word.
Yet.The worst of all the words! Now anticipation crackled in her cells.
What was he doing in that bathroom, anyway? Going on a date with Palmela Handerson? Yeah. That had to be it. Blythe had turned him on, and now he hoped to turn himself off.
Good! Maybe he would emerge with his smolder dialed down, and she’d be able to think clearly again.
Right on cue, he stepped from the enclosure wearing a black T-shirt, leather pants, and eight layers of tension. Well. The date must not have gone well. The smolder endured at full capacity.
Why she wanted to smile, she didn’t know.
He strode her way, a brave prisoner on his way to execution. “Get up.” He stopped out of range. “The tournament is soon to begin.”