Zafir tucked them into his jacket’s breast pocket. “Did he now?”
I nodded solemnly and Zafir almost smiled. I wasn’t sure why he wasn’t angrier; I would have been, if someone had raided my stock of potions then lied to my face about it. Was the infatuation elixir helping to dampen his reaction?
“If men are hiding vials on your person, I ought to teach you more about potions just in case Julian gets any more bright ideas. Show me how you would mix a sleeping draught while we wait for this infernal infatuation elixir to kick in.” He flipped through the book until he found the page he was looking for. “There’s the recipe. Don’t worry; it’s easy.”
“I’m not incompetent,” I grumbled, but pulled off my bangles so I could get started. At least it would give me something to do. Zafir followed close to me, breathing downmy neck so I nearly bumped him every time I turned around.
“You’re in my space,” I scolded him, reaching for a stirring rod.
“And you’re using my things. I want to make sure they aren’t being mishandled.” His hand shot out to close over mine. “See? You’re stirring too fast. You’ll churn the potion and make it froth prematurely.”
His hand was hot and slightly sweaty, very different from his normal cool temperature. A tiny droplet of perspiration beaded on his forehead and slowly cut a path down his face.
“It’s too warm in here,” he muttered, rubbing his neck then wiping his brow.
I raised an eyebrow. “It’s the same as always. It’s a hot climate and you wear heavy clothing.”
He shrugged off his dark jacket and untied the fastenings to release it from the chain, revealing his thinner shirt underneath, also black, and threw the jacket over his chair. Then he turned his attention back to the recipe. “Dragonsbane is a unique ingredient when combined with others,” he said, snaking a hand around my waist so I was forced to step closer. “It’s harmless to humans, deadly to dragons, and when combined with the right catalyst, it heats up very quickly, so it’s good to keep on journeys to cold terrains. See, there are footnotes here.”
I stared at Zafir. Difficult as it was to tell, his pupils were dilated. I leaned closer and he didn’t move away. Was the potion starting to work? Had he realized it, if it was?
I wiped the back of my hand across my face and quickly finished mixing up the sleeping draught, glad that it was a simple recipe that was completed within a few minutes. He was still watching me closely. Was he about to declare his undying love right now?
“Your makeup is smudged,” he told me flatly, staring at a spot near my mouth. “It needs to be fixed.”
My heart sank a little. Even a love potion wasn’t enough to make him wildly attracted to me or think I was pretty enough on my own.
“Fine. Fix it, then.” I wordlessly sat and waited for him to pull out the brushes and tend to whatever mistake was there.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“It’s nothing,” I said automatically. There was no reason that I should care if Zafir was attracted to me, love potion or not. If anything, I should be glad he wasn’t.
Zafir’s hand snuck around my neck and his fingers pressed near the base of my head, tilting my face up so he could smooth out whatever flaw had appeared in my makeup.
“Hold still,” he said quietly. “I need to focus.” He slowly dragged his thumb across the bottom of my lip.
He only wanted a pretty face to look at, nothing more. In some absurd way, it almost felt like a betrayal. I wasn’t all that hideous.
I cleared my throat and shoved down my absurd feelings. “You said you were going to teach me how to charm men. What’s the first step?” If having a pretty face helped the love potion to work, then fine. I needed to help the potion along the best I could.
“I already told you, having a woman who was interested in his work.”
“I’m interested inyourwork.” Was I flirting enough? Or was I painfully obvious? “I’m highly interested.”
“Are you, now?”
“Deeply. I’m always impressed when someone successfully brews a complicated potion. Can you tell meabout the infatuation elixir? How difficult was it to make?”
“Very,” he breathed. “The base can’t be alcohol; that dulls the magic. Nor water lest it becomes too unstable. It uses distilled moondew, heated precisely until italmostbegins to simmer. If it actually simmers, it’s ruined.”
“Sounds impressive. Thank you for making it for me.”
His thumb caressed my jawline. “I would do anything for y—” He broke off, looking horrified, then quickly stepped away from me and dropped the makeup brush as if it had burned him.
He had been flirting with me—actively flirting. The potion was working. Would it become less effective if I drew attention to its efficacy?
I brushed my hand against his arm, and he flinched away. “Don’t do that,” he ordered me, sounding much more like his former self.
