“Certainly not!” he protested. But the denial felt flimsy. He could try to tell himself he’d only sent her the gifts because he knew she probably had nothing suitable to wear, and he didn’t want her to be embarrassed. But in truth, he had lingered over the purchases, envisioning her draped in the silken fabric, the glass beads glimmering against her skin. He had debated between red and turquoise and blue and orange, finally settling on the turquoise green because he thought it would look the most striking on her. He had run his hands over the fine silken fabric,imagining it layered over her shining dark hair, the edge brushing her cheek…
“Liar,” she breathed. “Velia said that if a man sent her those gifts, she’d be lifting her skirts at the first opportunity. And Velia knows what she’s talking about when it comes to men. She says you’re dev—devastatingly handsome. Did you know that?”
“I—er—I’m not sure I’ve heard thoseexactwords before, but please thank her for the compliment.”
“I agree with her, you know. You’re the best looking man I’ve ever seen. And I’ve seen a fair few.” She let out a ringing giggle.
Her praise made him flush even though he knew it was just the dreamfish. “Time for bed, Lea. You’ll feel better in the morning. You won’t remember any of this.”
“I won’t remember anything?” She cocked her head. “Even this?”
Then, she leaned into him and pressed her mouth to his.
His mind went blank, wiped clean by the warm brush of her lips. His arms slid around her, daring to skim along the lines of her body. Desire sparked, and for a moment he felt as dizzy and unmoored as if he’d consumed the dreamfish too.
Awareness returned. He had to put a stop to this. The dreamfish was truly addling her mind—lowering her inhibitions and filling her with a desire she’d never feel if she were sober. Kallias had observed its effects often enough.
But before he could gather himself, she knocked him onto the bed, flat on his back.
Dimly, as she climbed atop him, he reflected that her gladiator instincts must be so deeply ingrained she could topple him even in her inebriated state.
“Lea,” he protested, voice becoming strangled as her hips settled onto his. She felt much too good like this. He tried to grab her waist, to shift her off him, but she felt as immovable as a marble column. She put her hands on his chest and leaned forward, pinning him to the bed.
A thread of panic wound through him, but he tamped it down. He’d long ago learned to fear being pinned and helpless, but this was different. Lea was the vulnerable one here, not him.
“Lea.” He summoned his sternest tone. “You don’t want this.”
“I think I do.” Her voice was husky, sending another flare of heat through him. “And I think you do too.”
He exhaled, attempting to clear his mind of the quickly mounting desire. A traitorous thought entered his mind, growing more tempting with every choppy breath. He could simply…let it happen. It wasn’t like he would refuse her under any other circumstances. Then she’d fall asleep, wake up in the morning hopefully remembering nothing, and they’d never speak of this again.
Lea leaned forward. The silky edge of her palla fell over her shoulder, brushing Kallias’s arm. In an impatient movement, she yanked the fabric off her head and tossed it aside. A pin clattered to the floor.
Kallias winced at her rough treatment of the delicate fabric—then drew in a sharp gasp as her lips nuzzled his throat. Shocks of pleasure cascaded through his body.
No—he couldn’t enjoy this. Lea didn’t truly want him. If she woke tomorrow and remembered anything, she’d be horrified. She’d probably hate him for taking advantage of her. It wouldfracture the trust that had been built between them, and he couldn’t bear that.
He had to find a way to end this, and it seemed a cleverer approach was required.
Kallias lifted a hand to her hair, bound in braids at the back of her head. “Let me take down your hair,” he murmured. “It must be uncomfortable.”
She closed her eyes in pleasure at his touch. “Oh, that would be nice.” Finally, she climbed off him.
He allowed himself a moment of selfish regret at the withdrawal of her warmth and lifted himself off the bed. He ducked into his office to fetch the tiny pair of shears he used for delicate tasks, then returned to his bedroom.
Lea sat demurely on the bed, eyes half-closed. She stayed still as he sat next to her and sifted through her hair to find the bits of thread that held her hairstyle in place. He snipped them, releasing one thick braid after another. Then, he untied the ends of the braids and combed his fingers through the soft locks. They felt like silk. He couldn’t help leaning close and inhaling as he did so. Her hair must have been washed with lavender water, and the fragrance was intoxicating.
Stop it, he told himself sternly.You’re supposed to be putting her to bed. Not lusting after her hair.
As he’d hoped, the soothing motion of his hand in her hair seemed to sedate her, and soon her body lolled against his. Gently, he eased her down to lie flat on the bed and covered her with a blanket. She didn’t stir, her breathing slow and even. He allowed himself a moment to gaze down at her, then carefully extricated one of the two pillows for his own use.
Kallias withdrew a spare blanket from his chest of drawers and spread it out on the floor. With a sigh, he curled up with his head on the pillow. He’d slept in much worse conditions in his youth, as beds were not usually provided for slaves, but in recent years he’d become accustomed to certain comforts.
For Lea, though, he could sacrifice those comforts for a night—and indeed, he feared he’d sacrifice a great deal more for her.
9
Leablinkedawake.Herbleary gaze slowly focused on the fabric of the bed linens bunched up near her head. Something was different: the weave too fine, the color too white.
