“I’m pretty sure leaving the room is cheating,” I mumbled against his smiling lips as he nudged my knees apart with his hips.
“They play their games while I play mine,” he whispered, dotting hot, open-mouth kisses down my throat to the swell of my breast. “Stay with me tonight.”
More cursing and glass shattering erupted from the other room.
I bit my lip to keep from moaning. “Why would I want to do that?”
“Because if you don’t, I’ll fill your bedroom with mice so they can nibble your toes. Or burn the entire castle to the ground except the dungeon.” His idle threats hummed against my skin.
I threaded my fingers through his hair, clutching him against me. “I suppose I don’t have much of a choice, then, do I?”
A chuckle. “Hostages rarely do.”
28
A few days later,I made plans with Eava for my first cooking lesson. Rían had shifted some new dresses for me, similar to the one I used to wear in my garden. The soft gray and brown cotton was a nice change from all the blue.
I found Eava doing what she always seemed to be doing: flitting from one pot to the next, chopping this and that. Mixing and stirring and filling the kitchens with delicious aromas that left my mouth watering.
“Good morning, Eava.”
She gave me a hurried wave before taking the steaming pot off the hob and setting it on a folded dish rag next to a second. “Morning, child. Good to see such fine color in yer cheeks. Tearmann suits ye.”
I felt my face flush.
The sun in this place may have tanned my skin, but the color in my cheeks had come from waking up next to an amorous prince.
“I think you may be right.” I wanted to smile all the bloody time when I thought about him.
Which wasn’t ideal, considering the moment we set foot outside the castle, we had to pretend to be enemies.
I used to be good at pretending. I’d convinced my father and sister that I was content. Everyone in Graystones had believed me to be the perfect lady.
But Rían made it so damn hard.
Eava grabbed an apron from a hook on the back of the door and tossed it at me. “Put this on so ye don’t ruin yer dress.”
I slipped the loop over my head, and she helped me tie it at the waist.
“Now fer the blindfold,” she said, giving my shoulder a pat.
“Blindfold?”
A scrap of cloth came over my eyes, wrapped around my head, and was tied tight.
“Ye need to feel the ingredients. Smell them. Taste them. ‘Tis the best way to know if ye’ve added too little or too much.”
That sounded a bit silly, but she was the expert. I gripped the edge of the table in front of me to keep my bearings. “You don’t follow a recipe book then?”
“My recipes live up here.” She tapped my temple.
She cooked by memory? How did she keep all of the recipes straight? Perhaps I didn’t want Eava to teach me how to cook after all.
Dishes rattled and clanged around me. I could feel her skirts brush against mine as she went from what sounded like the corner press to the table and back again.
“I can take this off and help you,” I offered.
“No need. I’m almost done. Now.” She came to a stop to my left. “Give us yer hand there.”