Elara’s question immediately broke the spell Constantine had fallen under, and his eyes snapped up to hers.
“Nothing,” he immediately murmured, reaching up to tug at the suddenly too-tight collar of his shirt. “It is warmer than usual today, is it not?”
Elara looked at him suspiciously for a moment before she shrugged her shoulders and looked toward the race track, fanning herself harder.
“Certainly so,” she agreed. “I do not know how you men can stand so many layers when it is this warm. It must be so uncomfortable.”
“Indeed,” he muttered.
It was the tightness of his breeches against his pulsing cock that was most uncomfortable, but he was not about to say so.
“Which horse do you fancy?” Constantine asked to change the subject.
“Houndstooth,” she said simply.
There was a brief pause beside her.
“Houndstooth,” Constantine repeated.
“Yes,” Elara confirmed pleasantly.
She heard him draw in a slow breath through his nose before he spoke again, his tone measured in the careful way she had already come to recognize as his attempt at patience.
“Elara, Houndstooth has not placed in his last four outings. His form is poor, his jockey is green, and he is running against Meridian, who has won six of his last seven races. By every reasonable measure, Meridian is the sensible choice.”
Elara considered this for a moment, then turned to him with a gracious smile.
“Then by all means, place your bet on Meridian,” she replied. “I shall place mine on Houndstooth, and we need not quarrel aboutit at all.”
“I already have, but you are going to lose your money,” he said flatly.
“Perhaps,” she agreed. “But it shall be my money to lose, and I shall lose it quite contentedly, thank you.”
He pressed his lips into a firm line that told her he had several more things to say on the matter, none of which he was going to say.
This woman is going to drive me mad with her stubbornness.
“In any case, we have a few minutes before the races are to start,” Constantine stated, needing a moment to adjust himself. “I shall go to the refreshment table and get us some lemonade.”
“Oh, please do, thank you,” Elara readily replied.
He hated how much her look of appreciation filled him with glee, and he merely grunted as he got to his feet and walked away. The moment he was away from her, Constantine drew in a deep breath and subtly tugged at the waistband of his breeches, hoping to shift his erection and give himself some relief. It did not.
He stifled a groan as he buttoned his jacket, using it to hide the proof of his sudden spurt of desire, and walked to the refreshment table. He paid for three glasses of lemonade and ice, drinking one down the moment it was poured. The cold drink helped with the rising heat in his body, but did nothing to tame his desire. Growing grumpier by the second, he scowled as he set the empty glass down and swiped the other two glasses from the table.
Constantine was halfway back to his seat when he looked up and immediately stilled. An oily black wave of discontent washed over his already fouled mood when he saw Elara smiling and laughing with an older man in a black coat and top hat who had taken his seat. He, too, seemed quite entertained with whatever they were talking about.
Suddenly eager to find out what was so funny, Constantine moved quickly, not caring that the lemonade sloshed over the rim of the glasses and splashed on his hands.
“Good day,” Constantine abruptly greeted them as he reached them.
Elara and the older man quickly stopped their conversation and turned to look at him. Constantine tried to smooth his frown into a look of casual indifference, but found it impossible. Elara, however, seemed to find it amusing as she took in his expression and retorted with a rather impish smile.
“I should have asked you to obtain three glasses so our new friend here might be refreshed as well,” Elara chipperly stated as she reached for a glass.
Static poured into Constantine’s fingers as hers stroked gently along his knuckles, urging him to let the glass go. With effort, he released the glass, but made no move to offer the other to the stranger sitting in his seat.
“New friend, you say?” Constantine asked. He studied the man closely as he brought the glass to his lips and took a sip of the cool, sweet, tart drink. It gave him enough of a jolt to allow him to give the man a casual smile.
