He nods. “I know that now, but I didn’t then.”
It hits me why he’s telling me this. “And the vision that you want me to see, it’s important?”
His eyes brighten. They’re already bright, like gold and emerald stars, but now they’re shining. “This is the most important thing I’ve ever made, and as long as I can keep it under wraps and no one gets wind of it, it will change the world.”
“More than the pocket cauldron?”
He smiles. “More than that. A lot more.”
We’re both quiet for a moment until I say, “That’s why you need me.”
“That’s why I need you,” he murmurs.
Our glances catch again, and he’s studying me openly, his smug smirk gone, and emotion flits through his eyes. Too much emotion.
It’s the kind of emotion that happens before two people kiss, before they start telling each other that they’ve always loved one another and that they never stopped pining for each other and oh, why did they ever break up in the first place?
My heart, which had been soaring, crash lands back on planet Earth.
Devlin cheated on me, and then his rumor ruined me. It also ruined me for love. I don’t want love. I don’t need love. I just need someone to marry—and it’s not Devlin Ross.
Keep telling yourself that, Blair. Stay strong.
I clear my throat and pull my hand away. “And you think that by me sleeping in a different bedroom, we won’t be in each other’s orbit well enough.”
“I think the vision will come faster if we’re in the same room, yes.”
Why am I doing this, again? I exhale a resigned sigh. “Fine. You can sleep in here. On the floor.”
He smirks. “My bed is bigger.”
“On. The. Floor.”
“You drive a hard bargain,” he jokes. Then he jumps up. “I’ll be right back.”
As soon as he’s gone, I pull off my dress, jump into jammies, brush my teeth and get under the covers.
A couple of minutes later Devlin knocks.
“Come in.”
He enters in low-slung cotton jammy pants, the lined muscles of his hips openly being flaunted and so sexy that I look away. “I’m making a palette,” he tells me.
“Have fun.”
He makes said palette at the foot of the bed and sighs before he slinks under the covers. I assume that’s what he’s doing. I don’t look. Not interested.
After he settles in, I expect him to say good night, but instead he says, “Tell me about the first time you got your power.”
I turn onto my side and slide a hand under the pillow. “Oh, are we sharing tonight?”
“Itoldyou.”
“So it’s only fair?”
“I like to live life fairly and dangerously.”
We laugh, and when it stops, I say, “Since it’s only fair.”
