He crossed to the sideboard and grabbed a bottle of brandy and a glass. The men were likely near to passing out beside the bonfire, and while the women were not so deep in their cups, they were in better spirits than he had ever seen them before. Cassian decided to join them and poured a glass of brandy. However, before he could take one sip there was a knock at his door.
Setting the glass aside he strode across the entry wondering who had come for him and was concerned that something may have happened at the temple that required his attention.
Who he was not expecting to find was Samantha.
“Why do you not want to kiss me?” she blurted out without bothering with a greeting or explanation for being at his door.
“I never claimed that to be the case, Samantha,” he answered slowly, slightly taken aback by her presence and question.
“Yet you have not done so.” She jerked a finger in his face to emphasize her point. “Therefore, I can only assume that you do not want to.”
“Do not assume anything,” he warned and wondered at the change in her. Samantha would never be so bold. She was a quiet, gentle creature...at least usually. Cassian’s eyes narrowed as suspicion settled in his gut. “I have my reasons,” he finally answered.
“I understand.” She lifted her chin and started to turn but not before he saw the sadness in her blue eyes.
He had hurt her, which had never been his intention, but how to explain?
Even if he did provide his reasons, it was likely Samantha would not remember.
“I believe you are drunk.”
“I am not,” she insisted.
“How much have you had to drink?”
“Only one glass of wine. Maybe one and a half.”
He arched a brow. That was not enough to cause anyone to be even tipsy, unless they had never drank wine before. “Did you fill the first one to the rim?”
“I most certainly did not. It was filled as a glass of wine should be when being enjoyed in proper company.”
He nearly snorted on the proper company. They were a bunch of witches celebrating a feast that at one time had included dancing naked and eating cakes made in the shape of phalluses. There was nothing proper about their celebration tonight.
“One glass of wine, that was all?”
“Well…”
“Well what?” he demanded.
Her entire face brightened with excitement. “I saw a fairy,” she announced.
He knew that they lived in the Scared Grove but he had yet to see one, nor had he ever seen the brownies that he suspected lived in his home. There was no other way to explain how housework got done while he was asleep, or furniture was arranged not to his liking but theirs. However, it was a minor inconvenience and because he was grateful for the assistance, Cassian often left bread and cream or milk, but never anything else because they would take offense.
“What did the fairy look like?” he asked to humor her.
“Oh, she was so beautiful, Cassian, with hair the color of the sunrise…We should watch the sunrise tomorrow…or today. Do you plan to?”
He blinked at her sudden change of topic a second time.
It was not possible that one and a half glasses of wine could cause her to lose her inhibitions or knock on his door in the middle of the night, and to go on about fairies and sunrises…Fairies!
“What happened when the fairy saw you?”
“I do not think I was supposed to see her,” Samantha whispered.
“What did she do? Anything?”
“She poured whatever was in her bucket into my wine glass, but really, it was barely a drop, though I am certain it was very much for her size.”
