“You can ask me anything, you know.” I wanted Caiman to know me. It surprised me how much.I sliced a carrot and took a bite. Butter and rich honey burst on my tongue, tender and cooked to perfection.
He thanked me but kept his questions to himself. The sounds of cutlery on plates and the occasional clink of a glass against the tabletop were the only sounds as we finished our dinner. Caiman’s gaze drifted to me almost as often as mine darted to him. He finished first, setting his dishes on the tray and topping up both our glasses with what was left of the wine.
For the first time since he’d sat down, he relaxed against the high back of the chair, one hand twisting the stem of his glass, eyes fixed on me.
“When you said you wanted to stare, I thought you were joking.” I offered a jittery laugh, gripping the edges of my chair.
“I rarely get the opportunity and want to take full advantage. Am I making you uncomfortable?” The low timbre of his voice left my heart racing.
He was, but not in the way he meant. He made me feel hot and cold and queasy but also so very excited and . . . Did this window open? I needed air before I burst into flames.
“No. I like it.” Having him look at me like that made me feel like the only woman in the castle—in the kingdom.
“Do you, now?” Chewing the inside of his cheek, he tapped a gloved finger against the glass. “What else do you like?”
Heat pooled in my belly, leaving my toes curling on the marble. “What do you mean?”
“That’s one of my lingering questions, something not written in any of the books I’ve read.”
“Fae are known for their fondness for sunshine and sweets, music and dancing.”
Some of his black hair slipped its queue when he shook his head. “Not the fae. I want to know about you. What do you like, Roisin?”
There was no mistaking the heat in his gaze as his eyes tracked from my lips to the lowest point of the V in my dress and back again.
“I . . . I don’t know.”
He finished what was left of his drink, and when he set the glass on the tray, his lips glistened.
I bet they’d taste like wine.
Caiman eased forward, leaning his elbow against the table. “I’d like to find out.” He lifted his hand, as if to reach for me, then paused. “Would it be all right if I touched you?”
With my voice suddenly absent, all I could do was nod.
His brow pinched as he traced a solitary finger down the column of my throat. My eyelids fluttered closed, and I gave in to the sensations building within me. When he reached the hollow, he followed my collarbone to where the sleeve of my dress met my shoulder, hooked his finger beneath, and drew it aside. I held my breath, dying to know what he would do next.
Something warm and soft grazed my bare skin.
He’d replaced his finger with his lips, and when he kissed his way back to my throat, I threaded my fingers through his silky hair, clutching him against me, arching my back, wanting him to kiss me harder. Slower. Lower.
I forgot where we were—whowe were.We became two people without a past or future, living in the present.A present that was beautiful and full of hope and passion.A low growl rumbled from his throat as his hands clasped my waist, kneading my ribs, working their way higher as he trailed kisses down the V of my dress.
Voices cut through the blood pounding in my ears. Caiman must’ve heard them as well because he stilled, dropping his forehead against my chest for a split second before bringing his mouth to my ear to whisper, “Something tells me you liked that.”
The sleeve he’d removed slipped lower as my chest heaved. “Very much.”
“Shall we continue this conversation in my chambers?”
“Your highness?” a deep male voice interrupted.
Cursing, Caiman twisted toward the drapes. “What the hell is it, Broderick?”
How he spoke at all was a wonder to me. I didn’t have a coherent thought in my head.
“Lord Devon has asked me to remind you that you called a meeting.”
“For the love of all that is holy,” he muttered before saying louder, “Tell him to cancel it.”