He leaned on the wall and crossed his legs while sipping his drink. “I can think of other ways to pass the time, but I promised to be a gentleman and leave you untouched and unsullied.”
She scowled even while her face heated like a bonfire. “Scallywag.”
“Surely you have more creative insults than that,” Cassian rolled his eyes.
Taking a plate to the table, she deigned not to look at him. “Ido, but I think it’s best to reserve those for the moments that do need them.” She cut into her eggs. “Are you going to join me?”
He pulled out the opposite chair and sat. “How was your night? Were you able to find the ammunition you need to fence with me?”
“I am still gathering,” Cecilia replied carefully. She hazarded a glance at him. “Do you mind putting the animosity to the side so I can ask you a question?”
“Is it—”
“It is not to meddle in your business or to ask about any of your past relationships by playing detective and asking your friends about it either,” she echoed as best she could. “I simply want to ask why you are so eager to destroy those books.”
“Because they belonged to my father, and suffice to say, my father and brother only noticed me when I crossed a line they explicitly said not to cross.” Cassian nodded to the young footman who had just delivered the morning paper. “My presence was a nuisance to them, ergo their belongings are a nuisance to me.”
Cecilia paused with an oatcake halfway to her mouth. Why did that sound so… petty?
“But to destroy them for a—” She couldn’t find the right word, “—an old grudge?”
“It is more of a way to exorcise them out of my life,” Cassian replied, while thickly slathering marmalade over a slice of toast. “I can sense you judging me.”
“Actually, I have nothing to say to your rift with your father,” Cecilia replied. “But I am realizing that you have a sweet tooth.”
“Are you trying to divert the conversation?” he asked before taking a large bite.
“No,” she shook her head innocently. “Just an observation. And you have a large blob of marmalade on your cheek.”
He brushed his left cheek absentmindedly and went right back to eating. Cecilia let out an exasperated breath. “It is on yourrightcheek.”
Once more, he attempted to remove the smear, but he missed it again. Shaking her head, Cecilia reached over the small table and swiped it off his face. As she pulled away, he grabbed her hand, and she was stuck, leaning halfway over the table.
She didn’t think he meant it to be anything other than a simple reaction—but it sent something simmering inside her. In thesunlight, his eyes had an iridescent gleam before they grew smoky. Before she could pull away, he closed his mouth over her finger and licked the marmalade away.
The way his tongue swirled around her single finger—it was utterlyscandalous, but then, when his lips sealed around the tip and he began to suck, she felt heat scald the back of her neck. His eyes were heavily lidded as Cecilia’s stomach lodged itself in her throat.
She could not hold back the shudder if she tried…
Cassian popped her finger out and went for his toast with a nonchalance that sent her head spinning.
“And no comment on my father?” He asked while polishing off his toast.
She looked down at her plate and tried to gather her scattered senses. “No.”
Cecilia could not deny that there were times when her Mother’s harsh criticisms and fault-finding had stolen all vestiges of her joy—but it had not gotten to the point where she resented her.
“I am surprised,” he murmured. “You always have an opinion on, well…everything. To wit, you argue with characters inbooks.”
She opened her mouth to tell him that trait had evolved because she had been trained to tame her tongue for years—but then clamped her lips tightly shut. It was a secret she had held tight to her chest for years, and it felt too personal to tell Cassian so casually.
“Me arguing with characters is—is…” she swallowed and shook her head. “Why did you do that?”
“Do what?” Cassian replied.
She felt like she was about to internally combust. “Suck my finger… that way?”
His gaze met hers, and slowly, an unholy light sprang into the grey depths, and his mouth curled into a smirk. “You had marmalade on it. You know the saying; Waste not, want not.”
