“Perhaps that was why I was hoping it was sexual innuendo.” His smile was intimate and his eyes sparkled. “Good sex is a key ingredient in falling in love.”
“I don’t know about that,” she said with a laugh.
“At least the possibility of good sex,” he countered.
“Very well, that I will concede. Attraction is a component of falling in love.” She took another sip of wine and felt herself relax, more than she knew she should.
She could almost see it, like a heat mirage or an image hovering out of the corner of her eye. Her and Laszlo and a shadowy third. Walking with him through the cool, calm woods he’d described so beautifully.
Hiding in those same forests in a last, desperate attempt to stay alive.
“I don’t form trinities based on attraction, or likelihood of falling in love.”
Laszlo tipped his glass to his lips and finished the red with one long swallow that drew her attention to his throat. He set hisglass down with a precision that made the back of her neck tingle with awareness.
“Perhaps,” he said slowly, “you should.”
“Form trinities for love?”
“Yes.”
“Trinities are formed for advancement and development, sometimes for protection either of a key member or the society itself.” The words were hard to get out. “Whether or not that becomes love is up to the trinity, not me.”
He leaned forward, gaze sharp and direct. “Can’t you do both?”
“You want me to play matchmaker?”
“Isn’t that exactly what you do?”
“In a way, but personal compatibility isn’t?—”
“It is.” His quiet insistence made her breath catch, but she couldn’t say why.
“What I ask, Admiral, is that when you form my trinity, don’t merely make it about advancement or protection.” Laszlo’s too-light eyes held hers, the candlelight casting deep shadows under his cheekbones and brows. “Every one of us deserves to fall in love.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
“What does your future look like?” Elijah was sitting at the counter, carefully deboning fish.
Eric put the lid back on the Dutch oven which was on low heat on a back burner. He’d been cooking the sofrito base for several hours. The smell of garlic, onion, and tomato made his mouth water.
A storm lashed the castle. It had been sunny this morning, but a major storm front that had been hammering the west of Ireland was now making the Irish Sea toss and roil as thick rain lashed the Isle of Man, thanks to intense winds.
The weather had missed its cue to dramatically match his mood, but was now making up for being late with being loud and tempestuous.
Before it hit, he and Elijah had gone over to help the Spartan Guard close the heavy storm shutters over the windows of their house, which was newer than the castle. Given the normal-thickness walls of that building, the storm shutters were necessary. Now, he and Elijah were in Eric’s apartment makinga hearty fish dish Trina used to make. It was an odd mix of cuisines but always good on cold or stormy days.
He remembered standing beside her in their kitchen, chatting quietly as they worked together to prepare the meal. A glass container was already waiting on the counter for Dahlia’s portion, which they’d take over to her once they’d eaten.
The memory was no longer painful but instead melancholy.
Working with Elijah had also reminded him how young they’d all been. Young and still trying to find themselves while also navigating a complicated poly-relationship and living double lives with their public-facing jobs and relationship and their Masters’ Admiralty roles.
“How many bones are in this thing?” Elijah muttered.
“I did the hard part,” Eric informed him. “You’re just checking for stray bones.”
“There are a lot of stray bones.”
