He reached for me, but I seized his hand. He blinked at me curiously.
I tugged him over to his bed and gently guided him to sit on the edge. “Would you like to watch me from here?” I whispered.
Understanding dawned on his face, and he nodded eagerly.
Trying to breathe evenly through my nose, I sauntered backward, keeping my eyes locked on him, a small smile on my lips. When my bare feet brushed over the warm stones in front of the hearth, I stopped.
Was this a terrible idea? What if Melaena was wrong about Asher’s nature?
Don’t make promises you can’t keep.
But still I hesitated. For one wild moment, I wanted to bolt through those doors and drop the key somewhere for Asher to find it. But Aiden wanted him to be oblivious for as long as possible.
Aiden.
Perhaps if I pretended this dance was for him...
Closing my eyes, I drifted back to that hallway . . . Aiden’s hands caressing my body . . . his mouth making love to mine . . .
Heat pulsed through my veins. I opened my eyes.
No music, but I didn’t need it. I freed my silks from their bracelets and began to weave them around my body as I’d practiced with Melaena hundreds of times.
I stepped forward, twisting my hips. I lifted my arms and gently twirled. I thought of Aiden’s smoldering grin instead of the entranced look Asher displayed.
An easy smile curled my lips, and I sank to the floor with split legs, one in front of me and one behind. Thank the gods and Melaena my flexibility had improved.
Asher was gripping the bed with white knuckles now, leaning forward, his heavy necklaces swinging. But it was Aiden’s muscled chest I saw. Those green eyes that played tricks on my mind.
I swayed forward and back, exposing my throat to the ceiling, my breasts to him. My silks floated around me like lazy flames.
Carefully rolling, I twirled to my feet. I danced closer and closer to him. My chest heaved with each breath. Sweat gathered under my heavy hair. My skirt brushed his knees.
But then the wrong hands gripped my waist. The wrong scent—rose oil and mint—snapped me out of my wishful haze.
Asher’s wet lips were a breath from mine when I stumbled away from him.
“Forgive me,” I gasped. “I—I forgot myself.”
He shook his head, his smile kind even as disappointment flickered in his eyes. “I am the one who needs forgiveness. I fear I have done the very thing I promised I wouldn’t by frightening you.”
When he continued to sit there looking like a wounded puppy, my anxiety slowly calmed. Melaena had been right. As usual.
I smiled and sat next to him on the bed. “Of course, you’re forgiven. It’s easy to get caught up in the heat of the moment.”
“Indeed,” he murmured, rubbing his temple. “Also, a bit more wine than I’m used to, I think.”
“Here, let me help you,” I said, grasping his Arduen crown. “May I?”
He nodded wearily. I eased it off his head and set it aside. An idea struck me.
I scooted back on the bed’s satin covers. “Lay your head in my lap, and I’ll try to ease your pain.”
“You’re very kind,” he mumbled, obliging.
My heart winced. No, I wasn’t. I simply wanted access to his neck.
Once he was settled with his head propped on my crossed legs, I began to massage his neck and shoulders. “Close your eyes and relax,” I whispered.
