His hands still over his buttons. “Em, I know you aren’t a sea fae.” His voice is gentle, devoid of judgment. “You don’t have to swim with me. It’s what I need right now. Although…” A mischievous glint lights his eyes, and a corner of his mouth quirks up. “You might want to turn around.”
“Why?”
He finishes unbuttoning his shirt and tosses it onto the ground. “Because I don’t have a swimming gown either.” His fingers move to the buttons of his trousers, and I whirl around with a gasp. I hear his laughter behind me. Next comes the sound of splashing followed by movement cutting through water.
I turn around and find Franco’s head breaking above the water’s surface. “You’re really missing out.”
I cut him a glare. “Since when do ravens swim?”
“Since they learned to dance.”
I roll my eyes and sit on the shore, watching as he dunks his head underwater. The peace of our surroundings comes to my attention, bringing with it my favorite kind of music—the unseen evening orchestra, something I haven’t taken the time to witness since abandoning my rooftop perch in the Gray Quarter. Crickets chirp a soft melody from the surrounding forest, while the light breeze rustles the grass beyond the beach. Nocturnal animals scurry up surrounding trees, their pitter-patter almost too quiet to hear. Franco emerges from the water and waves at me. I wave back, dazzled by the starlight that glints off his wet hair. The moon is bright, making the surface of the lake sparkle all around him. Tiny specks of light draw my attention several feet above the water where hundreds of fireflies flutter about, twinkling a warm glow. Franco dives under the surface again. My lips curl into a smile as I watch him swim and play. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look so free. Aside from that magical moment when we danced.
My heart clenches.
The dance.
Thoughts of spinning to and from his arms fill my mind, bringing with it the feel of him, the pound of drums and two heartbeats combining as one. The memory merges with the beauty of this moment, the brightness of the moon, the starlight in Franco’s hair, the music of nature echoing the song from our dance. Longing fills my heart. Longing for him, for the water, for the freedom he feels. It expands until it becomes a storm wind roaring through my veins, my blood, my bones. A burning tempest of need.
I bite the inside of my cheek, clenching my fingers to stop me from pushing off the ground to my feet.I can’t join him, I tell myself.I can’t swim in my shoes, nor can I remove them. My bargain with Maisie forbids it.
Or does it?
I go over the terms of our arrangement. I am to wear the glamoured shoes in public. Furthermore, I must let no one see me without them.
This certainly isn’t what one would consider public, my fae side taunts.This is private.
Besides, I’ve lost the glamour in his presence before and didn’t break the bargain. So long as he doesn’tseeme…
“Turn around,” I rush to say as I jump to my feet.
He swims closer, quirking a teasing brow. “Are you coming to join me?”
“Turn. Around.” Heat flushes my cheeks. My human side cowers as my fingers move to the clasps at the back of my gown. I had Clara’s help to don it, but the back is low enough that I can remove it on my own. My fae side leaps with excitement, quickening my motions to match my racing pulse.
Franco’s eyes widen, and he swiftly turns his back to me. “I didn’t think you were serious,” he calls over his shoulder.
“Don’t you dare look at me,” I say, my voice higher than normal. “I’ll be taking off my shoes too.”
Franco’s movements go still. “Are you sure?”
“As long as you don’t peek.”
“I won’t,” he says.
This is a bad idea. A very bad idea.
Always be wild. Promise me.
With a deep breath, I pull down the bodice of my gown and slip the rest of the way out. I consider leaving my undergarments on, but the thought of emerging from the lake in a soaked chemise has another flash of boldness urging me to keep going. I unhook my corset, slip out of my petticoats, and pull the chemise from over my head. Then I untie the ribbons securing the shoes to my feet.
The night breeze pebbles my naked skin, and I resist the urge to bend forward and cover myself. There’s no one here. Only me and Franco beneath the night sky. It makes me feel bold. Daring. Maybe even beautiful.
“I’m taking off my shoes now.”
“All right.” His voice is thick, quavering. After clearing his throat, he adds, “bring my cravat.”
“Why?”
