“I'd love to get dinner with you. I’ve never been to The Saffron Valley. If you’re so loaded, you can easily afford it.”
I love the playful tease in her tone, even as the last tear escapes her.
Chapter Four
Arielle
I’m in the gardener’s strong,enormoushands. In his rock-hard arms like a bride, flying to the nicest place in town. Does he realize it’s Bliss Day? We would need a reservation to the hottest spot in town on most days, but especially today. The holiday is celebrated by earth and water territories to honor the lovebird goddesses, Glacia and Terra, whose love for one another literally moved mountains and carved canyons.
“Here we are, sweet Ari.”
My feet touch the floor and Grogoth places a stabilizing hand on the small of my back. It’s all I can do to smile without whimpering. A large, greedy piece of me wishes we’d stayed in my apartment. There are other things to eat than burnt okapi. Each other, for instance.
“Mr. G, come on in!” the host calls from their podium. “Go on back, I’ll alert them to open your room.”
Grogoth nods and twists my hand around his arm. I try not to gape at him. He has aroomat The Saffron Valley? One they keep ready and waiting? How often does he visit? Just how richishe?
We stride down aisles of tables cloaked in elegant black tablecloths. The moody lighting is courtesy of flickering flames hovering in the air. The sound of laughter competes for my attention with the clinking of utensils on porcelain plates, all of it nosier than the distant sound of light jazz.
We reach the back of the restaurant—or so I think until Grogoth parts a hidden black curtain to reveal a lively area with even more expensive decor. The band is made up of a dragonborn, a human with a gnarly burn scar, a hoofed being that looks like a tree and a satyr had a baby, and a muscular orc woman in stunning evening wear.
Distracted, I almost trip on a raised step. Grogoth catches me, leading me through another black curtain. Inside is a small dining area ten times more luxurious than all we’d walked passed. The U-shaped seating is plush velvet tufted with geometric lines, encrusted with diamonds at every intersecting pattern.
I glance at my dress, which I hastily changed into before we left. It’s cute. It’s my favorite and most comfortable nightlife piece, but it doesn’t screamfiner thingslike this room.
There’s a soft cough at the curtain. A young man with gel-tamed curls holds a tray with one plate and one bundle of cutlery. He smiles at Grogoth, which falters when he notices me. Great. Everyone can tell I don’t belong here.
“I’m so sorry, sir, I didn’t realize you had company. I’ll be right back.”
Grogoth nods politely, quiet authority radiating from his silence. It feels good to know I was right about him being a man of few words, but this…this is not what I imagined. What else have I yet to learn about my gargoyle crush?
“You’re beautiful.” His gravelly tone wrenches me from my worries. I drop the hem of my sleeve, unsure when I’d started fiddling with it. Grogoth takes myhands, bringing my knuckles to his lips one by one. “The single most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
“Even while not wearing yoga pants?”
“Skirts, yoga pants, no pants. It matters not.”
I flush and bite my lip, watching as his attention zeroes in on my mouth. I let him guide me into the booth and he scoots in after me. The bench is large enough to accommodate his great size, his wings tucked so seamlessly that one might not realize they existed.
His firm hand swallows my much smaller knee, rooting me to the spot. His thumb, its texture slightly rough, circles the indent of my joint and sends heat trickling through my bloodstream to build at my core. I squeeze my thighs together, sitting up a little higher, trying to hold myself in check. I can’t jump his concrete bones right here, can I? I glance toward the curtain, where our server could walk in at any moment.
Grogoth inhales, his exhale quivering. Without even the slightest turn of his head, he laughs, the sound as deep as an avalanche.
“What’s so funny?”
“Your body craves me even now, in a public place.”
“You can smell me, can’t you?”
He growls a husky ascent, amusement alight in his tempest eyes.
“So that means—oh, goddess. You’ve known this whole time, haven’t you? All those mornings on the balcony. You knew!”
The circles on my flesh stop and I watch the storms churn behind his eyes before he starts to slowly grin. “I merely meant tonight. You mean to tell me, my littleconfection, that you became aroused at the thought of me watching you?”
Embarrassment floods me, but I resist the temptation to shrink. Something in the way he watches me so intently, it doesn’t seem as embarrassing as I thought it would be.
“I mean, I could have rolled my mat out inside. But why would I do that, when the garden is so beautiful?”
