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He stood and walked over to her, his face unreadable. "I'd like to see you do your own makeup, your ritual."

She swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry. "Come to my room after your shower, I'll let you watch."

She watched as his eyes darkened.

"I'll be there." He easily lifted her heavy case and walked out of the room.

Amelia took a deep breath. She would seduce him with the sultriest look she knew. Feeling her confidence rising with her excitement, she hurried up the stairs.

*****

When she got to her room, she immediately grabbed the case Darian had left in the hallway and hurried to get everything set up. She set up her case in the middle of the room, using it as her portable vanity. She dragged the heavy wingback chair over to create a place for Darian. Satisfied with her room set-up, she ran into the bathroom to clean and moisturize her skin. Using bobby pins, she carefully arranged her hair away from her face, giving her a pin-up look. She ripped her suitcase apart looking for her favorite dusty rose silk robe she'd bought on a whim at Victoria's Secret years ago. Knowing that she had a mate out in the world somewhere made dating impossible, so the sexy robe was more for her than anyone else; now she was grateful she had it.

She looked down and almost screamed in panic. It looked like her suitcase had exploded. She had just finished throwing everything back in when there was a knock at the door. Without bothering to zip it, she shoved it under the bench at the foot of the bed.

"Come in," she said, trying to slow her breathing. Nothing said sexy like puffing for breath because you were so out of shape you couldn't dig through your own suitcase.

When Darian walked in, she couldn't catch her breath for another reason. Instead of his normal elegant slacks and sweater, he was wearing the traditional long fae robes that were so well known throughout their world. Unlike her dream, this robe wasn't golden with jewel-tone leaf embroidery. Instead, it was a deep black; the cuffs of his sleeves and collar were accented in sharp, ruby-red geometric designs. It had a high collar that gave the robe a formal look and the dark hues only emphasized his fair skin and blond hair. The contrast was almost ethereal. He held two glasses of red wine.

He smiled at her, and she was shocked at her reaction to it. At first, she was filled with a gleeful joy, and for a moment, her fears for the future faded, until she saw his eyes. They were no longer their normal lavender; instead, they were a dark amethyst, almost black. She was losing him.

He glided across the room and sat down in the chair she had set up for him. Nervously, she sat down at her impromptu vanity, and he handed her the glass of wine. She took a sip to calm her nerves. As she expected, it was a very good wine. She carefully set the glass down in the top open compartment of her case.

"Did you change your mind about claiming me?" she asked playfully, indicating his attire and the wine.

He shook his head. "I stopped fighting. The idea of seeing you like this, this intimacy, I couldn't stay away. Like a moth to a flame, except I want to be burned. If these are to be my final days, I want your touch to act as the brand that will set me on fire. I don't mind bathing myself in your blazing light, knowing that my cremation will set you free."

She turned her head away to hide her tears. He had given up completely, and she didn't know how to save him. How did you give someone the will to live? She slowly reached for her wine and took another sip. If he was so ready to set her free, then she would have to show him something worth living for.

She tossed the idea of her sultry look; he was bathed in enough darkness. She picked up her rose-scented powder and lightly dusted her chest and neck sending its soothing fragrance throughout the room. "I think you're being terribly unfair; I think I should have a say considering this is my mating, too."

He lifted the glass to his mouth, a slight smirk on his lips. "You're too young to appreciate the unfairness in life."

She shrugged and pulled out the bottom drawer where she kept her oils. She never used them on clients, but found that, even if the spelled oils weren't directly applied to whomever she was working on, the aromas alone helped. She reached for her two most powerful oils. One was a present from her brothers, the other one she had made herself. Brotherly Love was a mixture of frankincense, myrrh, sandalwood, and lilac, essences associated with protection. All three of her brothers had poured their love and energy into this oil, so much so, that simply touching the bottle made her long for home. Midsummer's Night was a mixture of gardenia, jasmine, rose, geranium, and vanilla, it had been inspired by her dream of Darian as a child, when they walked together in the fae gardens. She hoped that the properties of love and fertility with the protection properties of Brotherly Love would help guide and protect her mating.

She dabbed a few drops of each oil on the inside of her wrists and brought them up to rub lightly behind her ear and down her neck. She peeked over and was satisfied to see that Darian had visibly relaxed and was smiling softly. She turned back to her task at hand.

"I like using a light powder in the evenings, something with a bit of luminosity. This one is called, Hope of Light." She used a brush to powder her face. "A lot of people think you have to go with a darker look when you go out at night, the smokey eye that Meryn was attempting for example, but that's not true. Lighter colors have their place when the sun goes down." She picked up an eye shadow palette. "This color is called Heart's Desire; it has a gorgeous champagne gold color." She used a small, fluffy brush to apply the color all over her lid. "This one is called, Shimmering Love." A pearlescent cream color, she used it to highlight her brow bone, her inner eye, and the center of her lip. One by one, she chose bright colors named for hope, love, and light. When she was done, she turned to him. His empty wine glass sat on the floor beside his chair, forgotten. He no longer smiled but desperately gripped both arms of the chair, as if he was fighting an unseen enemy to stay seated.


Tags: Alanea Alder Bewitched and Bewildered Romance