Then, for the third time since we’d met, Shade dropped to his knees before me.
Chapter 15
Shade dripped oil onto one hand and rubbed his palms together to spread it evenly. My heart pumped furiously in anticipation of his touch.
My breath hitched when he placed his large hands on my right ankle, massaging upward slowly, fingers covered in swirling dark scars kneading into my skin.
I relaxed into the touch, a satisfied warmth filling my chest, and I closed my eyes, leaning back as I savored the glide of Shade’s hands over my skin. He moved up my leg until he reached my knee before running his hands back down again. After repeating the movement several times, he paused at my knee, so I opened my eyes to meet his molten silver gaze.
“Is this okay?” His voice was deep and rough, and I swallowed thickly, nodding. Those eyes didn’t leave mine as he grazed his hands higher. My heart rate increased with every inch he passed. I didn’t want him to stop. I wanted those strong fingers to reachthe spot no one had touched before, the pulsing wetness between my thighs.
Hot desire curled in anticipation, pooling low in my belly, ready for the touch I craved. I would explode the moment he—
He stopped. Midway up my thigh. I forced back the whimper threatening to escape, and his hands moved back toward my knee.
I stared at the canvas ceiling, and embarrassment heated my cheeks.
Fuck, I was being ridiculous.I literally met this man a day ago and was panting after him like a schoolgirl with a crush. I was behaving worse than Eleanor was with Harkin. I needed to pull myself together.
When he finished massaging my right leg, Shade applied more oil to his hands and repeated the process on my left. I refused to look at him again, ashamed of my thoughts and my body’s reaction.
Gods, I hope he hadn’t realized.
I took a deep breath, trying to curb the still-lingering desire. Shade’s scent filled me, eliciting a deep calm and relaxing my tense muscles. Something about the scent was so familiar. I inhaled again. Lilac, or at least something similar—a close relative? The woodsy scent was deeper, like sandalwood but not …
“The purloe flower!” I blurted when it hit me. The hands on my legs stilled. How did I not realize before now? The scent so like the one in the castle’s clearing and the flowers covering the old ruins. I opened my eyes to find Shade’s gaze on me, his head tilted to the side. “Your smoke, it smells like the purloe flower.”
That curling smoke stilled along his skin, and he pulled back, releasing my legs. He took up the small armchair facing the bed, as if settling in to watch me sleep. At his silence, I fell onto the bed, huffing out a small, frustrated breath. I understood it;after being locked away for so long, it made sense. I needed to be patient, give him a chance to get used to this new existence. Everything about him intrigued me, and I was dying to know more.
I tucked myself in, turning on my side to face him. Shrouded in shadow, I couldn’t make out his expression. The idea he would sit there all night, watching me sleep, frustratingly sent more heat curling through me.
The way my body reacted to everything he did was becoming a nuisance. I didn’t understand why. I had never reacted like this to anyone before. His gaze, his touch, all of it made my body tight with anticipation.
I couldn’t give in to it. To this feeling. To the desire to touch him. To the distraction he posed to my most important responsibility.
Not now. Not ever.
We were silent for so long, my eyes had drifted shut before he spoke. “It was a gift.” The words were soft and full of emotion. Sadness. Longing. Wistfulness. All there under his gravelly tone and tugging at my chest.
“From who?” I assumed he wouldn’t answer, and when he responded, it wasn’t what I expected.
“The Gods.”
The next morning, Shade was in the same spot as the day before when I awoke. Standing in the entryway of the tent, soaking in the sunlight peeking over the horizon. This time, I didn’t stay quiet.
“Why the sun?”
Out of everything he missed being locked away, why had the sun held him captive each morning. He hadn’t paid attention to anything else, except maybe me.
Shade’s deep inhale was audible, like he was trying to breathe in the very rays of sunlight splashed across his face. “Why not?”
Of course his response would be a nonanswer. I couldn’t seem to suppress my curiosity this morning, so I asked another question. “You said you lived before. How did you end up in the lamp?”
It was the wrong thing to ask. Shade’s shoulders bunched, and the sereneness that had filled him with the sun’s rising, bled away. I immediately regretted pushing him. He enjoyed so little since emerging from the lamp, and I had just destroyed one of his pleasures. I redirected, asking something else. “What was it like when you were here before? The world.”
Shade turned, letting the canvas fall closed and shutting out the dawn light. He strolled around the tent, seeming more comfortable in the space than he had yesterday.
“Much the same,” he murmured, picking up a discarded romance novel and flipping through the pages lightly.
