It’s a nice thing of her to say. I really should give Tahra the benefit of the doubt more often.
“Same difference.” With a sidelong glance at her, I reluctantly added, “You look fantastic.”
She does. Full of robust youthful health. Ready to kill pirates with her bare hands—and that’s before she’s been painted. The women approached with two bowls, one full of chalky white and the other with muddy violet paste. Both smelled strong but not unpleasantly herbal.
“Lorcan is painting you?” asked Tahra, wistfully.
“Yes.”
I strode away. It’s not well done of me. I have something she wants—or she thinks I do. The truth is a lot more complicated.
Begrudgingly, I can admit that this getup is cooler than the clothes I arrived in, and I haven’t been bitten by a single gnat since the bath. I’ll take it. My nether parts might never recover from the indignity of being stripped nearly bare, though.
As long as I can have a nap, I’ll recover.
* * *
Back in the dim rock-walled bedroom, I found Lorcan sitting on the bed, cross-legged. Waiting for me.
“Feel better?” He didn’t attempt to hide his smile. Even in the dim light filtering in through the leather privacy closure, I could see his reaction to my getup. His gaze skimmed down my body, then—slowly—up again to meet my eyes. Pupils blown between a narrowed, possessive glance. Heat and nervousness coursed through my blood.
I bit my lower lip and glanced shyly away.This is it. Finally.
A twinge of guilt over what I hoped the outcome would be.
“You might have warned me about the bathing process.”
“Why? So you could worry about it for the entire trip?” He rolled off the bed. I take in his outfit. It’s basically leather shorts with shoulder and shin guards like mine. It should look absurd, but it instead accentuates his lean muscularity—and leaves most of him bare.
“I said I wanted to be told the truth.”
Why am I pressing this point, now?
“I didn’t lie to you, Princess.” Lorcan dipped his thumb in a bowl of pungent purple paste. He drew a cool, wet line down the bridge of my nose. Then he took my chin between his forefinger and thumb, tipped my face to his, and kissed me.
“This is the fun part,” he said, lips brushing against mine as he spoke.
My insides turned warm and soft.
I wanted adventures. This is definitely an adventure, and it seems like it might lead to other things I want, too, if I can keep my anxiety under control. There was no hint of a looming panic attack.
“I like fun. What should I do?”
“Paint me.” Lorcan held out the bowl. When I didn’t immediately dip my hand in, he took a fingerful and traced a line along the part on the top of my skull.
“Like this?” I put both hands in the paint, squelched it, and made handprints on his pectorals. The heat of his skin was a pleasant contrast to the temperature of the purple stuff. When I pulled them away there were two perfect marks in deep violet on his chest. He chuckled.
“You always were a quick study, Zosia.” He set the bowl aside and perched on the edge of the bed, drawing me between his knees. Lorcan scanned me from head to toe. “You look—”
“I look ridiculous, and so do you, Knight.”
I should be tired, but my fatigue is secondary to the newness of this odd process and my growing excitement that this might finally happen. Sex. I’d all but given up hope.
I took more of the paste and squished it between my palms. Lorcan tucked his hands behind my thighs and brought me onto his lap, straddling him as far as I could with my skirt restricting my movement. It felt kind of sexy, with the leather digging into my skin that way. I wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothing beneath the tiny skirt, and I didn’t know how Lorcan would react when he found out.
I clasped his shoulders, leaving handprints on his biceps. Next, I smeared purple along the ridges of his cheekbones with my thumbs, covering the thin scar beneath his eye.Mine.Only I get to see it, now.
The banked fire in his eyes smoldered, turning his eyes darker than I’ve ever seen them.
