Minka and Mr. Boris wait with my bags while I locate Thorne. He gave me a purse of emerald rounds—Earthen Court’s currency—and then kept his distance while I browsed and tried on clothing. But now I need his expertise. I find him leaning against a marble column near one of the staircases. His arms are crossed over his chest, one knee bent while his foot is propped on the pillar. The posture would look lazy on anyone else, but as I approach him, I’m struck by how intimidating he’d be if I didn’t already know him.
Not only that, but…stars, he’s gorgeous. His dark, almost shoulder-length waves. His intense brown eyes. The cut of his perfectly tailored navy suit that hugs his frame like a second skin. And I’m not the only one dazzled by his appearance. Nearby, a trio of human women stare at him from one of the many sitting areas, whispering amongst themselves and hiding their giddy smiles behind their hands. I wonder how they would feel if they knew he was half fae. If they saw him in his unseelie form. Would they be more attracted? Less?
I stop before him, feeling slightly self-conscious before our audience, and am careful to keep a respectable distance between us. “I need you now.”
He straightens, his eyes going momentarily wide at my statement.
My cheeks flush. “I need your advice, Mr. Blackwood,” I amend.
“About?”
I cast a sideways glance at our three spectators. One pouts as she stares daggers at me, but after a sharp glare from Thorne, the woman pointedly looks away and sparks up conversation with her companions. I feel oddly smug about his cold reaction to his admirers, but I admit he was quite rude. How would I feel if a handsome man glared at me just for looking at him?
Still, I can’t find it in me to feel bad for the women. I really do need his advice.
I lower my voice so as not to be overheard. “I need you to help me pick something to wear for today’s game. When will Mr. Phillips arrive? During the day? The evening?”
“This evening, I assume, as he’s waiting for his sister to return home before they head to my estate.”
“Oh, he’s bringing Miss Phillips?”
“He is.”
For some reason, a strange sinking feeling hits my gut. Maybe I simply don’t want an audience for Monty’s game. Or maybe it’s what those receptionists said.
I’ve only seen him here with Miss Phillips.
I can’t help wondering if Thorne has a romantic connection with Monty’s sister. Not that it’s any of my business.
I shake the thoughts from my head. “What kind of clothing does he find attractive? What are his favorite colors?”
He shrugs. “I haven’t a clue.”
My mouth falls open. “What do you mean you haven’t a clue? You’re supposed to help me win his stupid game. Have you ever met someone he’s attracted to? Was she modest? Daring? Confident? You must give me something.”
He rubs his brow. “I suppose you can rule out modest. The women Monty associates with tend to be…”
“Sexy? Alluring?”
His jaw shifts side to side. “You might say that.”
“Fine, that’s a start. Now come help me choose something.” Before I can think better of it, I lace my arm through his and drag him toward a display of evening gowns nearby. I release him as soon as we reach it and assess the four headless mannequins, each wearing the same dress but in four different hues. “What about this?”
He studies the display without interest. “It’s…nice.”
“Yes, but would Monty like it?”
“I told you, I don’t know what he does and doesn’t like. What matters more than the dress is how it looks on you.”
“Then I suppose I’ll have to try a few on.” I make a note of the name of the gown so I can inform one of the shopgirls of my intent to try it on in my size later, and move on to the next display. Thorne shadows me, offering nothing helpful whatsoever. His posture is tense, expression closed off, as if he can’t stand being forced to shop with me. Well, if he isn’t going to be helpful, I suppose I can make the experience worse for him.
“Are you sure you don’t know Monty’s favorite color at least?”
“I don’t.”
“What about his favorite food? His favorite music?”
“I’ve never cared enough to ask.”
