Severin shoots me a knowing smirk, making me realize his wife has told him about my predicament. So much for keeping it secret. I imagine he’ll tell the other men, and once the pixies hear about it, then everyone in town will know. The little imps are the worst gossips in Faerie.
I scowl at him, which only makes him smirk harder.
The tulips and pumpkins escort us to the edge of the green, where the small gourds plop down onto their bases and wiggle around until their little painted faces look at us. Skye fusses over all of them for several minutes before Ifinally pull her away.
We cross the street to Cake My Day. Several delicious smells surround me the moment we step into the bustling, warm room. While I’ve never been inside before, Skye looks at home in the bright-pink bakery. She weaves in between the pastel-painted tables and chairs to make her way to the two display cases that fill the back of the room, one sweet, one savory. There’s a line in front of us, but my height means I can see over the humans to the bewildering range of baked goods on offer.
As we shuffle our way forward, the selection doesn’t get any less overwhelming. But when the couple in front of us finally moves away, I relax a little. The two-foot tall woman working the counter is a brownie, and one facet of their hearth magic is you can ask them to serve you whichever food you will like most.
“Pepperpot, hi!” Skye says. “I’ll have a cinnamon roll and one of the new Valentine’s strawberry cream cheese Danishes, please.”
“Good choice.” The baker slides the pastries into a pink box, then turns her brown eyes to me.
“I ask that you select for me, oh master baker.” I tip my head to her as a sign of respect.
“Not many remember this is one of the brownie magicks,” Pepperpot says, her light brown face split into a smile.
“We lost much while the doors of Faerie were closed for three hundred years, isolating the realms,” I murmur, knowing the brownie’s fae hearing will pick up my words, “but the dragons remember.” We are superior in all ways, thisbeing only one of many.
She raises her hands, and her magic rolls over me like a warm fire on a cold day, bathing me in welcome. The sensation fades slowly, and as it does, Pepperpot loads a large bakery box with a mixture of items from the savory case. I assume she’s done, but she moves over to the sweets case and plucks up one of the strawberry cream cheese Danishes and deposits it before closing the box with a flourish.
At my skeptical look, she says, “You like sweets more than you think, dragon. And you certainly need more of them in your life.” Her eyes slide toward Skye, and Pepperpot gives me a knowing smile.
Why are all the small fae so meddlesome? I grunt and hand over a gold coin along with a slip of paper. “This will cover today, but I would like to start a tab. That is the number of my account at the bank.”
“Yes, you’ll be a regular customer from now on.” The coin disappears into one of the pockets of her patchwork leaf clothes, and the brownie gives me another sly grin. “I have sensed it.”
The equally short gnomes in line behind us chuckle and elbow each other as we move past, little light-green faces grinning as they whisper, “The dragon has a girlfriend.”
When I scowl at them, they simply tumble out of my way, doing front flips that put them beyond my reach.
Perfect, just perfect. Every fae in town will know by evening.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Skye
Compared to the dress I wore yesterday, the flight to Luke’s castle is a lot more pleasant in my dark sailor jeans and fuzzy bombshell sweater.
As soon as we reach the reading room of his library, he clears a space on the main table for us to eat. He’s been quiet and grumpy ever since we left the bakery, and I feel like I missed something.
Or maybe it’s the thought of coming back to the scene of the crime that soured his mood, becauseDance of Desirestill hangs in midair, sparkling with the promise that the spell is active and ready to suck us back into the book again and again.
I nibble on my cinnamon roll, loving the familiar sweet and spicy flavor of my favorite pastry. Then I try the Danish, the bright fruity strawberries perfectly offset by the mellowcreaminess of the cream cheese. The puff pastry of the base is so light it melts on my tongue, and I barely suppress a moan. I grew up learning to bake from my grandmother, who was excellent as far as human skills go, but nothing compares to a brownie baker.
Luke munches his way through a variety of meat hand pies, giving little surprised grunts as he takes his first bite of each. I’m going to have to ask Pepperpot to use her magic on me next time instead of ordering for myself, because he’s clearly pleased with what she gave him.
Then he gets to his own strawberry cream cheese Danish. He holds it up, glaring at it as if the pastry did him an injury.
I take the final bite of mine, still enjoying it as much as the first. Swallowing, I say, “Go on. It’s really good.”
Luke bites into the confection, and his sour expression slips for a moment, melting into pure carnal pleasure. His eyes close, and a small groan reverberates in his throat.
My thighs clench. It’s the hottest sound I’ve ever heard.
He finishes off the treat in two quick bites, his fangs sinking into the strawberry topping in a way that makes my entire body light up. Then his gaze sharpens as he palms the table and shoves up to standing. “Let’s get to work.”
“Where do we start?” I leap to my feet, a new kind of excitement jolting through me. I finally get to see more of his library!
