“I auctioned off my maidenhead.”
“You—” I wrinkle my nose and shake my head. “No. I could never.”
Antoni steps out of the kitchen, filling the air with the brine of pearlescent scales and the pungency of chopped bulbs. He sidles up to me, and I think he’s about to grip my waist, but his destination is the sink.
He dips his hand in the basin full of sudsy water, then takes the bar of soap and rubs it between his palms. “What are you up to, Craftiona?”
Her index and middle fingers shoot up, wedged tight, a vulgar gesture popular amongst halflings and humans. “None of your business, Antoni.”
“If it has to do with Fallon, I will make it my business.”
My spine stiffens because a kiss doesn’t make me his business.
He eases the kitchen rag from my white-knuckled grip to dry his hands. “I’m serious, Catriona. Don’t corrupt her.”
She snorts. “That’s fresh coming from someone who’s slept with more people than I have, and yet whose business is . . .fishing.” She plucks a rosemary-roasted walnut from the bowl I’ve just replenished and pops it into her mouth. After thoroughly chewing it, she adds, “And not for bedmates.”
Antoni and Catriona glower at each other, and I briefly wonder if they ever slept together but stop because I prefer not knowing.
The cacophony from the wharf leaks into the tavern and slices through the wall of tension that’s gone up in lieu of the wooden bar.
“There you are!” Phoebus pushes a hand through his blond locks, eyebrows slung low over his glittery emerald gaze.
Best timing ever. “Here I am.”
He sets a forearm on the bar and grabs a handful of walnuts. “Syb and I spent all night searching for . . .” His voice puffs away as Antoni spears his fingers through mine.
I don’t close my hand around his but I also don’t pull away.
“We’ll pick up where we left off when the tavern isn’t as crowded.” Catriona swipes another walnut, then twirls in a whoosh of cobalt silk and climbs the wooden stairs I mopped earlier, because one of Flora’s children is ill—again—and Sybille turned in for a nap. To be honest, I didn’t hate the mindless task.
Antoni tucks a lock of hair behind my ear. “What time do you get off?”
“I’m not sure.”
Phoebus tosses nuts into his mouth, observing our interaction with fascination.
“No matter. I told Mattia and Riccio to meet me here after we’re done with our deliveries.”
I detach my gaze from my simpering friend and rest it on Antoni, who takes it as an invitation to lean over and kiss me. His mouth tastes of salt and sun and sinful promises. I’m so nervous, my lips stay stiff and so does my body. Even my heart feels as stiff as my bones.
I press my palms into his chest, promptly unfastening my mouth from his. “Not here.”
“Sorry.” He sketches the shape of my angular jaw with his callused thumb before backing up. “I’ll catch you later, Signorina Rossi.”
Phoebus turns in time with Antoni and watches the male leave, a grin tickling the edge of his mouth. “And the mystery of why Fallon abandoned us is solved. Spill. E-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g.” He manages to decompose the word into more syllables than it contains.
“That’s not why I didn’t come.” Heat prods my face. “He’s not why.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I swear. I thought I didn’t get a ribbon, so I wandered.”
“Into Antoni’s bed?”
I grab a walnut and toss it at his smirking face. “Shut up.”
Once he’s done chuckling at my expense, he says, very seriously this time, “Why would you think you didn’t get a ribbon? You’re one of Dante’s favorite people.”
