Close.
“Not quite.” I smiled at the look of wonder on his soft brown features. “Let me get changed out of this damned dress, then I’ll tell you all about it.”
I was halfway to my room, with one of the ties on the dress already undone when Daz called to me. “No! Ah… wait… Leave the dress on.”
I turned back with a questioning glance, one brow raised.
He smiled. “A celebratory meal deserves a special dress, doesn’t it?”
I cocked my head. He wasn’t wrong. “And what will you wear?” I asked.
He blinked. “Ah… well… I’ve got some nice things I could put on.”
“Are they comfortable?” I asked. Because this dress wasn’t: not with the way the ties sinched tightly around my waist and under my bust and the restrictive shoulders, not to mention the draft up my legs.
“Well… no… but…”
“Deal,” I said. “I’ll wear this uncomfortable thing, if you wear your most uncomfortable thing, and we’ll both be uncomfortable together eating a special dinner.”
He grinned, then laughed. “Deal.”
I liked it when Daz laughed, so light and free, a truly joyous sound, which filled me with warmth. Yet he did it so rarely. He was too serious and up tight.
He changed, returning in a tightly-fitted suit, which accentuated his strong shoulders and arms, taut over his rolling muscles. The entire ensemble was black, a buttoned shirt under the snug coat, and well-trimmed pants falling perfectly to just above his booted feet.
“Very dashing!” I said, hoping that was the appropriate sisterly comment. His words from this morning about my dress still sat uneasy with me.
He smiled, and even blushed a little, before returning to the cooking area to gather the meal he’d made.
I sat at the table, watching as he brought the various dishes over. “So, what have you cooked up for me?”
He laughed again. “I don’t know if it’s worth twenty-four strips of silver, but I’ve done what I could with the wide variety of foods you bought.”
Oh, right, I’d been going to tell him about my new jobs. So, as he finished bringing the last couple items to the table, I told him about my work for the prince and that it was highly sensitive and not to tell anyone. He already knew about Leo, but I mentioned that his lessons might continue for a while as well.
“Then you have certainly earned this meal,” he said, dishing out the dinner he’d made onto two plates. “I hope you enjoy it.”
And I did, very much. The mix of flavors, some strong, some delicate, was perfect. The textures and tastes danced on my tongue and filled me with such delight I actually moaned and sighed my way through the various bites.
“This is almost better than sex!” I said around a mouthful, savoring it. I’d never had an orgasm from food before, but this came very close.
Daz blushed again, dark red staining his soft brown cheeks. “Ah… thanks?” he said softly.
He always got so flustered at talk of sex.
Oh! That reminded me. “You need to tell Avela how you feel and get that woman into bed,” I said as I reached for some wine.
He gaped at me.
I shook my head. Sometimes I wondered if the man was a virgin. He always got so fidgety and awkward whenever I mentioned sex.
“If you haven’t been with a woman before, I could tell you some things she’d like.” Though I wasn’t like most women, so perhaps I shouldn’t give advice. “Avela probably doesn’t like itas rough as I do, so maybe not. But definitely, make sure to use your?—”
“Dizzy, no!” His voice rose a few octaves as he cut me off, eyes wide. “No… I… you…” His lips moved with no sound before he found his words. “Avela and I are just friends, nothing more. I’d never think of bedding her. She’s… she’s not my type.” He drew in a long breath. “Actually?—”
“Then take some of this silver and buy yourself a top-notch whore,” I suggested. “Pick out a pretty girl you like and wet your whistle with her.”
He blanched. “Dizzy, no… I…”
