A soft blush touches her cheeks, something that might always make me swoon.
“We are guests,”she signs, keeping her gestures small and between us.“And so present we must be.”
And yet, she drags her hand beneath the table, from the top of my thigh to my knee and back up a little past halfway, sliding inward, teasing just the tip of my cock.
“Evil woman,” I whisper, and she just smiles.
I’m so glad to see that smile. These are not the easiest of times, and when she checked the waters earlier today, Vexx had arrived in the East, and she still couldn’t see Finn. Worry is eating at her, but I’m hoping that tonight provides a little distraction.
“A toast,” Fia says, standing at the head of the table with her glass raised in the air. “To the future,” she says. “May we be the shining lights who change the days to come.”
We clink our glasses of sparkling wine, and the dinner attendants begin passing platters of food around.
“Where’s Joran?” I ask Nephele who sits across from me. I point to the only empty place setting, the one beside her. Everyone else is here.
At my question, she chugs her wine.
“No idea, really. Maybe he wasn’t hungry.” She fidgets with the ruffle running down the front of her jade green dress, then her hand moves to a small ruby pendant hanging from her neck that I’ve never seen.
I sense a lie. I know her. Perhaps they had an argument.
“Well, I’m famished,” Rhonin says, plucking two bread rolls as the basket passes. Helena smiles, sitting close beside him.
“With all that moaning coming from your room earlier today,” Keth says, voice low so that Fia doesn’t hear, “I can imagine why.”
Zahira smacks at Keth’s hand, though she wears a smile, and Rhonin turns so many shades of red that I’m certain one of them matches Raina’s dress. Everyone seems happy, save for Nephele who looks nervous and on edge. I’m certain it has something to do with Joran.
After dinner, Raina and I walk the terraced courtyards, still sipping wine, before we head back to our room. Standing at the vanity table, I slip off my shoes and strip off my tunic and iron key, neatly laying everything aside. There’s already a low fire burning in the hearth to ward off the desert chill, and the candles around the room have been lit.
When I turn around, I don’t expect to see Raina standing a few feet away, already naked, holding a small golden jar and wearing a rather erotic smile and a display of bright witch’s marks. But that’s what I find, and I couldn’t be more pleased.
I shake my head in admiration of her lovely body and move toward her, returning her smile. Standing close, I tap the top of the jar. “What’s this?”
She unstops the cork, carefully, and hands me the jar. I should’ve remembered. Fia is a woman of tradition.
“Fever Lilac dust.” I hold the jar to my nose to smell that cloying scent, laced with hints of rose and vanilla.
“A gift,”she signs.“From Fia.”
“Do you remember my story about this?”
She arches a brow.“What do you think?”
I wrap my arm around her waist and draw her against me. “We can’t use too much. That’s the only rule.”
Though I’m glad her mind is on us, and that she feels like using it at all.
She makes a face, questioning me, asking why.
“Because, if I paint you in this like the couple from the wedding will do tomorrow night, we won’t leave this room for a month. We still have a king and a world to save.”
She pinches her finger and thumb together, squinting one eye.
I can’t help but laugh. “Gods, you are so adorable. Yes. We can still try a little.”
It is exceptionally difficult to keep myself from covering her in golden dust from head to foot. Trying to think with reason, I lead Raina to the bed and lay her down. Crawling over her, still wearing my black trousers from dinner, I sprinkle a tiny amount of dust between her breasts, right over her heart, where two simple flourishes curve over the swell of her breasts.
The dust spreads quickly, glittering her skin with a soft, golden sheen. Using a small taste of my magick, I draw my hands over her breasts, her shoulders, down her arms, feeling her skin pebble beneath my palms. Then I move lower, straddling her ankles as I rub more dust over the curves of her legs and hips.
