She’d written to Lady Aislinn, as well as a few officials in Dundúran. There was nothing more she could do but wait.
And while she did, what was the harm in being happy? Soren seemed amenable to…something, if she was reading him right.
As Maeve smoothed her hands over her skirts, taking one last moment to admire her figure and the rosy flush of her cheeks, she decided that it was time to test just how much Soren could bear.
Something Maeve had already discovered were a few manticore tells. After observing Soren, as well as Kiri and to a lesser extent Diar and Akila, she’d come to find that while a manticore may try to obfuscate their emotions—although the latter three rarely did—there were a few gestures that gave them away.
It was all in the ears and tail. Almost constantly in motion, their triangular ears swiveled to catch a sound and follow it. A manticore may try to hide their embarrassment or surprise, but there was no suppressing a telling ear twitch. They may look away, clear their throat, or turn around altogether, but the ears were little signals atop their heads. Every flick, twist, and flattening had its meaning.
And the tail, of course. Most of the time, it was held, she suspected unconsciously, aloft in a downward curve, the tuft atthe end lolling to one side or the other. When pleased, it swished in an almost serpentine rhythm; when annoyed, the bottom third flicked back and forth; and when truly angry, it whumped onto the ground in agitatedthwacks.
That evening, Maeve checked the state of Soren’s ears and tail and was pleased by what she saw. Ears pointed at her to catch every word, tail swishing languidly behind him.
Perfect.
She couldn’t quite help a satisfied grin, even as she spoke of inane things. The evening was pleasant, the day’s warmth lingering in the air with a light breeze carrying the promise of a cool night. The sun was just dipping behind the tree line, leaving plenty of light to see by but also offering a romantic duskiness as they strolled down the path.
As usual, they met no one on their walk to the estate, and it stayed that way when they rounded a particular bend Maeve had been waiting for.
There, just inside the trees, was an outcropping of rock covered in thick mats of moss. If one needed to recline outdoors, there were few places better.
Truly perfect.
After they rounded the bend, Maeve eased to a halt. Soren looked down at her immediately, his brows crinkling as he searched her face.
“Pebble in your shoe?” he asked, offering his hand for her to balance with.
“No,” she said, taking that hand in her own. Instead, she stepped in front of him, her skirts swaying to brush his shins. His pupils blew wide as he stared at her, and Maeve had to bite back another satisfied grin.
“You’ve been very patient with me,” she said, fiddling with one of the dangling toggles of his jerkin. “I thought perhaps I should reward you.” She looked up at him through her lashes,batting them mercilessly, and was rewarded when he swallowed hard, the ball of his throat bobbing.
“You mean like…the other night?”
“Mmhmm,” she sighed, abandoning the toggle for that tuft of hair on his chest that drove her to distraction.
“You truly want to…with me?”
“I want to.”
She bit back her next smile as he tugged at his ear—his most telling tell.
“If you wish,” he said, voice gone husky.
“Oh, I do wish.”
Pulling him by the hand, Maeve led him into the shade of the trees, where the air was cool and thick. Soren followed, almost dazed, and Maeve would be lying if she said that expression didn’t go straight to her pride.
Drawing him to the thick mat of moss, she urged him to sit with her. Maeve set her lantern to the side to offer a little more light, but when she turned back, she realized he’d gone tense again. That wouldn’t do.
Sitting up on her knees made them nearly the same height, and a flush of pleasure warmed her blood as she set her hands on his shoulders. He watched her draw closer, his fists clenched where they sat on his crossed knees.
“Can I touch you?” she asked gently.
Soren cleared his throat. “Yes.”
With a curled finger under his chin, she lifted his gaze back to her. “You haven’t been touched before, have you?”
His lips thinned. “Not before you.”
