“It was just a story,Ellin. Besides… goddesses don’t need clothes.Youdon’t need them.”
I try to turn around to see his expression because the low rumble of his voice has deepened into a sexy growl. But he puts his hands on my shoulders and suddenly the heat of his tall body touches my back.
His scent winds around me. It’s a rope, tying us together in endless loops. “Do you trust me?”
“I don’t.”
“Wise.” He laughs quietly, his lips brushing over my neck, making me shudder. “But you’re drawn to me.”
I can’t deny it, damn him. I want him, and the force of that desire stings like a blade going through me, cutting through the physical need to something more profound. I need to crack him open, see the real Roane, have him for myself. I want entry into his secrets, his desires. I long to touch him where it hurts and where it makes him groan as if he’s dying of pleasure.
His hands slide over my back, down my bodice. He pulls harder on the laces and ties them off. Then he ties the belt, too, and steps around me until we’re facing each other.
“Fuck,” he breathes. “You look…”
It’s a dress made of starlight and ice crystals, diaphanous tulles layered over the silken skirt, the bodice worked with opals and diamonds. The sleeves are ruffled and falling off myshoulders, the stiff bodice forming a low cleavage. It dips low at my back and molds to my body, fitting like a glove.
“I’ve never worn anything like it,” I whisper, awed. “My family could never afford it.”
“And yet you’re the kind of girl who should always dress in silk and gems, or…”
“Or?”
“Or in nothing. Only in your silky skin. Fuck, I’m dying to see you naked. Completely naked in front of me. Underneath me. Kneeling at my feet. Or I could kneel at yours.”
Shaking my head, trembling at his words, I smooth my hands over the bodice. His hands follow mine and where he touches the dress, I think I see the fabric shiver and transmute, going from silk to velvet and back, the pearls suddenly sparkling like diamonds before returning to their opalescence.
My mind is playing tricks on me, lost in sensation—the silk, the weight of the dress, his hands on my arms. It’s like magic.
And nothing is more magical than him. His long dark lashes, the glimmer of his gray eyes, the bow of his mouth. That faint glow that clings to him like silver dust, shining on the jut of his cheekbones, the cut of his jaw, the hollow of his throat.
His hands travel up to my shoulders, to my neck. “Ellin… Your skin is so soft.”
My breath catches again. It has that bad habit when he’s close. “I…”
“A healer’s daughter,” he whispers. “A thief. A book lover. Who crossed the plains to enter the Areon and who won’t take no for an answer.”
“I was raised to be as stubborn as my mother,” I whisper back.
His mouth twitches. “What did your father have to say about that?”
“He married the woman. He isn’t allowed an opinion on the matter.”
“Gods, woman. You’re driving me crazy.” His head dips, his mouth so close to mine. He’s going to kiss me, I think, and feel faint with anticipation.
But a distant crash inside the library startles me, and he jerks back as if burned, his gaze darting around.
“What was that?” I ask.
“Nothing,” he breathes, but the worry written all over his face says otherwise.
“It’s as if something heavy fell to the ground.”
His gaze returns to me, dips to my cleavage. His hands slip around my waist. “It was nothing.”
“Roane…”
“Yeah, say my name. I like its shape on your lips, in your voice.”
