As Tommins finished sampling every dish and eliminated the folk belonging to the few he deemed unacceptable, he made his way back to the center of the park and raised his voice. “Alright, folk of Moonvale!” he shouted, clutching an amplifying crystal to make his booming voice even louder. “That marks the end of the first trial.” He gestured to the cluster of folk who were eliminated. “I send my condolences to those of you who did not make it through. But to the rest of you—nice work! Go home, get some rest, and come back tomorrow for trial number two!”
CHAPTER 17
Ginger
“GINGER…”
Ihad never heard my name uttered so sinfully.
His gold eyes raked over my skin, slowly, carefully. He didn’t miss a single detail.
I had never felt so exposed. So wholly and completely naked.
His touch brought a gasp to my lips. I had expected his hands to be cold and unyielding, but they were impossibly hot. He trailed gentle fingers over the side of my neck, my shoulder, down the length of my arm. I trembled where I stood.
He threaded his fingers through mine and tugged, pulling me closer to him.
I took a step forward.
A mere breath separated our bodies.
I had to crane my neck back to meet his simmering gaze.
His face was hard to see in the darkness, all harsh lines and shadows, except for the shocking glimmer in his eyes.
Those damned eyes.
Everything else faded into the background,except for the snare of his gaze and the grip he had on my fingers, tethering me to him.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, the words a quiet rasp.
He didn’t answer.
His free hand lifted to ghost over the side of my face. The touch was feather light, almost reverent. My eyes fell shut. I leaned in, pressing my cheek into his palm. His skin was so warm, so smooth.
The faint scent of oak and jasmine filled my nose.
I sighed, content. I ached to rub my face into his hand, to soak up as much contact as possible.
I was greedy. I needed more.
I pulled my fingers free from his grasp and he froze. I swore he was even holding his breath.
A smile tugged at my mouth.
I grabbed both of his wrists, circling them gently with my fingers. They were surprisingly sturdy, his forearms corded with subtle muscle.
I tugged his hands up, burying them in my hair.
A sharp exhale of breath ghosted over my face. His fingers flexed and curled, weaving into the strands. He tugged lightly. My scalp buzzed, pleasure rolling down my spine and settling low in my belly.
More.
I let my hands drift up to his chest, settling on top of his shoulders in the junction where shoulder met neck.
I stepped forward.
My body arched, my back bending reflexively.
