Verin tossed the cloth onto a bedside table, then crawled onto the mattress beside me. He settled against the headboard and, with a rumbling sound of satisfaction, drew me up beside him. I snuggled into his embrace, my arm sliding across his taut belly and my leg curling over his thigh. I laid my head on his chest and let out a relieved breath. He was right—three months apart had been hell.
“I'm so sorry,” I whispered.
“For what?” Verin asked in amazement.
“That you had to go through this to save my life.” I lifted my head to look at him.
“I have no regrets.” Verin kissed my temple. “I may not have loved you then but, despite all of my denials, I knew it was inevitable. I couldn't let you die. Your death would have been far more painful than being without you these last few months.”
“I felt something for you as well,” I admitted. “But I never thought...”
“Neither did I,” he said softly. “But now that we're here, I feel as if things happened exactly as they were supposed to.”
“I thought you didn't believe in fate?” I teased him as I flicked his pert nipple.
“I don't believe I've ever said that,” he protested. “But, to be honest, I don't. I'm not saying that we were destined for each other—that's too cliché for us. This is far more than fate. It's strength and wisdom and maybe even a bit of luck. This love was born in battle and forged on the brink of death. For a warrior, there is no greater glory than a love like ours. We clawed our way into each other's arms, Elaria, and I'm not letting go. Not ever.”
“You don't speak often but when you do, you do it with a flourish, Dragon.”
Verin grinned, “Does that mean you'll stay with me, Spellsinger?”
“As you said, I've already dug my claws in. I'm not going anywhere.”
Chapter Six
“I don't know whether to be flattered or deeply concerned.” I stood in the center of Verin's dressing room, blinking in shock.
I wasn't surprised by the size of the room even though it was larger than I'd expected Verin's closet to be. I was accustomed to the garment requirements of monarchy and I've been in Slate's dressing room often enough to never be shocked by the amount of clothes that one man owns. The rows of tunics, cloaks, shirts, and trousers, all hung on golden hangers that in turn hung on golden rods, didn't even raise one of my eyebrows. Neither did the sand-colored walls, carved with dragons, or the massive, gold-framed mirror that took up nearly the entire far wall. I wasn't shocked by the enameled cabinet in the center of the room, its glass top revealing kingly jewels, or by the rows of boots, belts, and weapons laid out on shelves amid the racks. All of that seemed normal enough for a king.
What bothered me was the latest addition to the room (at least I hoped it was new)—a rack of women's clothing and a feminine dresser beside it with a line of shoes set beneath the rack. All of it appeared to be in my size. And these weren't just store-bought items, it looked as if a team of seamstresses had toiled for months to make this stuff. Even the damn shoes were embroidered.
“I don't normally commission an entire wardrobe for a woman who isn't mine,” Verin said gruffly. “But I was... optimistic.”
“You also seem to have my size.” I sorted through the garments and chose a turquoise dress.
Yes, I picked it to match his eyes—the shade they turned when he was aroused or happy. The love spell was turning me into a teenager.
“I recalled your body vividly,” his voice went low as his hands slid around my waist. “It's been haunting me. I could have sculpted you from memory if I had the talent.”
His face started lowering to mine, his eyes turquoise and his lips parting.
“Uh-uh.” I spun away from him. “Get some clothes on, Dragon. I want to spend some time with you outside of your bedroom. That's the whole point of delaying our... gratification.”
Verin chuckled but relented. “Very well. But you'd better cover that luscious body before I lose my resolve.”
I slipped on some silk underwear—a set that had been hung together on a hanger just like the gowns—and then shimmied into the dress. It was slim-fitting with sleeves down to my elbows and flared out around my ankles. Despite the exquisite dragon—a blue dragon, of course—embroidered on the back, the dress was of the more casual of the collection.
“Where outside of my bedroom would you care to go?” Verin asked.
I turned to find him clothed in a black, wrap tunic—the royal version of a karate gi—and a pair of cobalt leather pants. His black boots came to mid-calf on him and had no adornments other than a buckle at the back. His belt was the most interesting bit of the ensemble; it had swirling designs embossed into the leather and a leather pouch hanging from it. Verin hadn't bothered with a cape—his mother would be horrified—and his hair fell around his shoulders unbound. Normally, he held it back with a couple of small braids or simply pulled it back in a ponytail.
I ran my hand through the unrestrained length. “I like it better this way—a little wild.”
“I prefer to have it out of my face.” He brushed his thumb across my lips. “But for you, I'll put up with it.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” I teased. “You're so generous.”
Verin grunted in amusement, took my hand, and led me over to the jewelry cabinet. The glass top displayed a treasure hoard of jewels set into broaches, cloak clasps, and the hilts of dress daggers. In the center of it all sat a crown on a pillow. Golden Asian dragons spun around each other to form its circumference, their finned tails rising into spikes around the circle. At the front, two dragons met, their jaws open. A large, oval sapphire perched between the two sets of teeth.
