“We can’t lose control in here,” he said, all in a rush, as if he had to get it out before he lost himself completely in Ru, and she in him. “Youcan’t lose control.”
He moved away very slightly, giving her room to catch her breath, holding her steady until she could stand on her own. Even so, her knees nearly buckled when he let go, her breath coming in pants.
Her mind was foggy with want; she could see that he wanted her too. She clung to his arms, despite the space between them, and tried to think.
“But it was good,” she said. As she spoke she knew it was true, that her fears were just that — fear, confusion, a lack of understanding. When she’d felt that golden light, when she’d seen it curling around them, she hadknownit was right. “Weshouldlose control.”
Fen gently pulled her jacket over her chest, protecting her modesty.
“Believe me, there is nothing in the world I would rather do right now than lose control with you,” he said softly. “But not here. Not like this.”
Ru looked up at him with unbound affection, wondering if he could see through to her soul. It was as if a wall inside her had been demolished, baring a tenderness, a depth of feeling that was beyond even her own understanding.
He smiled down at her, raising her chin with a finger and studying her face as if it were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. She had never felt so vulnerable, yet so safe.
“We should get ready for the party,” he said.
The magic of the moment was fading, that bright flame of Ru’s desire guttering out, leaving sudden cold in its wake.
The party. Lord D’Luc. There were more important things at stake now than sucking on Fen’s earlobe, a fact which Ru was very reluctant to accept. She sighed, pressing the heels of her palms to her eyes. Then she straightened, buttoning her jacket with shaking fingers.
Fen went to retrieve his waistcoat from the floor, and then his jacket. He waited expectantly by the door while Ru sorted out her mussed hair and her rumpled skirts.
“You go,” she said, waving him on, her breath still shallow, her hands shaking with unspent lust. “I have to go back to my room to change, anyway.”
“I’ll meet you in the Great Hall, then,” he said and caught Ru’s mouth with his so tenderly that a lump formed in her throat.
As Fen went up the stairs, she had the fleeting urge to run after him, to wrap him in her arms, and never let go.
CHAPTER33
Ru had never seen the Great Hall so bedecked. The Tower’s parties could never match those of the palace, but the academics had put their excitement and powers of problem-solving to use, creating a truly breathtaking array of festivity.
Colorful streamers crisscrossed the hall and fluttered in the eddies of movement caused by the mass of bodies below. Lamps and candelabra had been brought in from all over the Tower, and were arranged on tables and stools that had been draped with flowers and green branches from the gardens and courtyards. There was even a massive arch of flowers and greenery that led into the Great Hall itself, all constructed and arranged by hand.
On a raised dais near the far end of the hall, a string ensemble played boisterously. Ru made her way to a table along one side of the crowded room, where sweet pastel-colored treats and fizzing drinks were laid out for the taking.
Ru felt almost transported, as though she had stepped out of the Tower and into a fairytale. Until she backed into Archie and he yelped, bringing her back to reality.
“Oh, Ru!” he exclaimed, wringing his hand, “you’ve made me spill.”
She retrieved a napkin from the table and handed it to him. “Have you seen Fen?”
Archie made a face. “Good evening Archie! So nice to see you, Archie. Are you enjoying the party, Archie?”
Ru shoved him with an elbow. “And where’s Gwyn?”
With a long-suffering sigh, Archie jerked his head toward the center of the room. “Talking to Lord D’Luc. Trying, anyway.”
“About what?” Ru scanned the milling bodies, looking for Gwyn. As she did, she reached mindlessly for a fizzy drink and downed it in one gulp.
“You feeling all right?” Archie asked, his own glass held halfway to his mouth as he watched Ru. “Don’t worry, Gwyn’s just buttering him up. Making him like her. Us. The team as a collective.”
“He already likes me,” muttered Ru, standing on tip-toe to see across the room.
“Youarein a mood.” Archie finished his drink and set the empty glass on the table. “What did Fen do to you now? Stare too hard with lovelorn eyes?”
Archie’s tone reeked of irony, so Ru ignored it. And she wasn’t in a mood; she was impatient, frustrated, still humming with the touch of Fen’s mouth, his breath on her neck.
