I quickly give her the small glass tube and watch with bated breath as she scoops the liquid into a ladle before carefully pouring it into the vial and placing a cork in the top. She smiles at me triumphantly.
“Phase one complete,” she chimes.
“Yeah, well.” I take the bottle from her. “This was the easy part.”
My palms are sweating as I rub them down the skirt of my dress. I’ve barely touched my dinner, my nerves making me incapable of remembering how to chew and swallow without choking.
I have the sleeping potion Rhoden and I made tucked between my breasts, and I swear I can feel it burning a hole through my skin. When I first walked into the dining room, Braxton wasalready sitting at the table. His eyes skated up and down my figure as if he was searching for something. His expression was completely unreadable, and for a split-second, I was convinced he figured out my entire plan and was going to strike me down for it.
But instead, he simply said, “You look nice,” before beckoning to have the food brought in.
I hope he didn’t see my shoulders sag with the slightest bit of relief. Of course he had ogled me when I walked in. Rhoden and I picked out my dress, knowing it would catch his attention and keep him well distracted. Unlike some of my fancier gowns, this dress doesn’t billow away from my body like a ball gown, but instead stays hugged to my figure all the way down to the bottom where the skirt grazes the floor.
The rose red color of the dress is equal parts alluring and seductive, and it perfectly matches my lip color and complements my skin tone. In the flickering candlelight, I can see the tiniest hint of sparkles reflect off the dress. But, my favorite part of this particular gown is that it isn’t corseted. The top hugs my body tightly, but there are no bones or ribbing digging into my flesh as I sit down. Truly, it seems as if the dress was made specifically for me in the way it molds to my body. I have no idea how Rhoden found it shoved in the depths of my wardrobe, but I’m thrilled it’s serving its purpose perfectly.
As I take my seat, I see Braxton’s eyes flick up to me once more. He drinks me in as if I’m his oasis in the middle of the desert, but in truth I’m only a venom-filled mirage.
“Like it?” My question holds a taunting lilt as I watch him soak in my appearance.
“It’s a lovely dress.” His voice is oddly cold while giving the compliment.
When he finally looks away, I feel like I can breathe again. We’re sitting in the loudest silence I’ve ever been a part of.There’s a tension building between us that I can’t quite place, but it’s causing my skin to slick with sweat.
Calm down Azalea.I scold myself. I’ve imagined slitting this man’s throat a handful of times, but now slipping a little sleeping drought into his drink is too much for me? I internally scoff at how I’m behaving. Giving myself one strong mental shake, I force myself to push this plan forward.
“Do you want to have a drink in your study after dinner?”
Braxton’s head shoots up and his chewing slows. He assesses me with an expression somewhere between confusion, concern, and suspicion. Reaching for his goblet, he washes his food down with a long, slow pull of the water inhabiting it.
“A drink?”
I nod.
“In my study?”
I nod again.
He grazes his tongue over his teeth before releasing the tension on it with an audible click. I study his nearly black eyes as he looks back at me, trying to get a read on him. He lifts his hand, and raises it toward his head but stops, as if he was about to run his fingers through the thick, black tresses of his hair before thinking better of it.
“We can have a drink in here,” he counters. Lifting his hand again, he beckons to the servants standing on the outskirts of the room, no doubt cueing them to refill our glasses.
“We could.” I nod my head in agreement. “But your study is a little more… private.” I let my voice drop to a soft whisper and purposefully blink at him through my lashes.
He studies me more heavily. “Finally fulfilling your dream of killing me then?”
My lips turn up involuntarily. “If that were the case, Braxton, I would happily do it very publicly.”
He breathes a laugh through his nose before shaking his head.
Were we joking with each other?The realization strikes me, and I quickly wipe the smile from my face.
After another moment of hesitation, Braxton gives in with a shrug. “Fine.” Without any further invitation, he stands abruptly and exits the dining room.
I quickly shake the shock from my system and bound to my feet, moving as swiftly as my dress will allow to catch up to him. When I pass the threshold of the door, I see him standing next to it, leaning his tall frame against the nearby wall.
“Eager are we?” he teases with a rueful grin.
My nostrils flare, and I scold myself for falling for his stupid trick.
