Deviousness rolls across his tongue. “Be careful what you ask of a Fae.”
“If you’re hoping for a shy human, you’ve got another thing coming. This one—” I aim both thumbs at my chest “—has got a history of buck-naked stories. I’ve accepted as many dares as I have tumbles. Once, I lost a bet and sashayed through the village square in a dripping wet chemise. Do your best, but you’ll meet your match.”
Gauntlet thrown. Cerulean swerves my way, his eyes tracing a long trail down my nightgown, to where my tits fill the material, the pits of my nipples in danger of tightening from the breeze. He makes a show of inspecting me, his gaze dripping with ridicule. Yet those wicked pupils dally on the swells of my hips before dragging to my exposed thighs, where the hem bunches high because I hadn’t bothered to adjust it.
My skin pebbles. The infestation plots a course across my nape, down my forearms, and along my lower back.
Now, I wasn’t fibbing about my antics. The first time I galloped into Faerie, I’d been clad in my knickers. I’m no flasher, but a peek from prying eyes never bothered me.
But this look Cerulean tosses my way…
This blunt look is a tide of air that sneaks beneath the surface, slipping under the nightgown’s flimsy straps.
Point taken. But two can play at this game.
I dish out the same attention, my eyelids ducking, my attention climbing from his own bare feet—high arches, a beauty mark dabbed into the pinky toe—to the clench of his abdomen. The ramps and hollows of his torso inflate in a shallow rhythm I could get used to.
My eyes rise to where a hard knob rolls up and down Cerulean’s throat, the muscles pumping there. I think he likes what he sees, as much as it sickens him.
We stare at each other, neither backing down. Then we straighten and retreat into our own shadows while the moon drapes a chalky film across our legs. A yawping silhouette of black cuts a line over the range.
Should be weird, sitting and not talking with Cerulean. But it isn’t. However, I’m restless and in the mood to bicker. I’ve got this urge to keep picking a fight with him, to see how often I’ll win.
I’d lasso him with my whip if he manipulated these wild dwellers, but I shouldn’t have needed to ask. Like he said, animals are sacred to the Fae, and this refuge is one example of that. Not that it pardons him from other crimes.
I say, “So then, you lure only humans with that flute. How noble.”
“I like to think so. How I love nothing more than favors, flutes, and fuckery,” Cerulean says unapologetically, making my fists curl. “Regardless, nights such as these are more diverting.” He nudges his chin toward the resident animals, his tone dedicated, faithful. “We enjoy the melodies together.”
“Sounds like a fine pastime. Why not make animals and music your life’s work instead?”
“I will someday. I’ve a surplus of time ahead.” I open my mouth, but he’s not done. “You’d said that you favor winged creatures. Tell me your favorite.”
“You’ve got me confused with somebody who wants to get chummy.”
“You came out here on your own. Unless my instrument prevailed at last, and you’re glamoured?”
“Were you trying?”
“I’ve never had to try, until recently.”
I beam. “How much did it hurt to admit that? Details, please.”
Cerulean’s mouth twitches. “I was not summoning you.”
“I wasn’t lured.” Leaning back on my palms, I swing my legs over the valley. “Your owl sidekick woke me up is all. I was feeling impulsive and nosey. Two things I’ve got a knack for.”
“You’ve left out the most crucial truth. You fancied a camaraderie with the fauna, despite my caveat.”
“Would you believe me if I told you that animals are sacred to me, too?”
“I observed you for an ample length of time in The Watch of Nightingales. You, cavorting on bare toes with the avians.”
My legs stop swinging. “How long?”
“Hmm.” Balancing an elbow on the opposite wrist, he slides a finger over the tip of one ear. He squints, as if trying to recall. “I’d imagine as long as you spied on me tonight. At least indulge me for a spell. The moon is bright, the fauna have come out to play, and I’m feeling selfish. It’s a curious hour, on a curious night.”
The boisterous cougar and mountain goat frolic across the lawn. My attention flinches over to the Fae gauging my expression. Hell, his comely features rival the most devastating of his peers as well as humans, able to send both species to their knees.
