Lord Marintide had delivered the harp himself, warning Solarius that it was one of her most prized possessions and to take great care. Naturally, Solarius kept the harp in the bedroom. He had it placed near the balcony, overlooking the mountains and the sea, and already he could imagine the way the eastern morning light would illuminate her when she played. There was something oddly sensual about the way her fingers moved over the harp strings, the delicate strums and plucks, the way her eyes fluttered closed with each crescendo of enchanting music. It was a selfish decision, but he didn’t care.
He wanted to be the only one to see her so vulnerable.
Maybe eventually they would get a new harp for another area of the house, depending upon if they stayed at House Celestine or built their own. But for now, he would keep her all to himself.
Unless she wanted to play for others, in which case he wouldn’t stand in her way, but he would carve out the eyes of any male whose gaze lingered a little too long.
Solarius continued to sort through all the provocative underthings strewn across his bed when the door burst open, and Narissa swept into the room in a flurry of satin.
She drew up short and her eyes widened when she caught sight of her unmentionables covering the velvet comforter.
“Sol.” Her gaze flicked from him to her things, then back to him, and she clutched the bag in her hands.
He grinned and lifted a pair of what he could only assume were panties, given their shape. The lack of material was interesting, but it was the string of pearls that had his cock thickening. The things he would do if he ever caught her in those…
“How come I’ve never seen you wear this?” he asked, arching one brow in mock amusement.
A rosy flush highlighted her cheeks, but she rolled her eyes to the glass ceiling, then reached over and snatched them from his grasp.
“Becausethese,” she whispered, running two fingers along the glistening pearls, “are only forveryspecial occasions.”
He matched her, leaning closer and planting his hands firmly on the mattress. “Does the Yuletide Ball count?”
“I…” Her pretty full mouth fell open, and he seized the opportunity to distract her further.
Solarius reached for the bag filled with pale purple tissue paper. “Show me what you bought, Rissa love. More stockings? Perhaps another pair of pearl panties?”
She swatted his hand away from the goods. “I’ll only show you after you tell me what’s going on here. What is all this?”
Narissa gestured around the room, waving one hand wildly through the air.
“Allow me to show you.” Solarius took her by the hand and linked their fingers together. He showed her the closet first, where all her gowns, capes, and shoes fit so tidily next to his own attire. “Don’t mind the bed, that’s still a work in progress, though I do hope you’ll continue to share it with me.”
He led her to the sitting room, showing off how most of her herbal necessities were somewhat organized. He gestured toward the window where bundles of dried flowers were laid on the sill, waiting to be hung. “You can change anything you like if it doesn’t suit. I’m going to have a table made for you since we don’t have anywhere to put your cauldron. And if you want a new one of those, I’ll find you one. Just say the word.”
Solarius nodded toward the main bedchamber. “And I put your harp by the balcony window.”
“You did all this…” Her voice caught. “For me?”
“Well, the bed sharing thing is mostly for me.” He gave her hand a squeeze and winked. “But, yes.”
Her expression shifted then, and he watched as uncertainty clouded her pretty features, waiting to see if he had overstepped his bounds. The bag she carried dropped at her feet. She sniffled and her eyes took on a familiar sheen as a single tear rolled down her cheek.
The bond shivered with emotions.
Shit.
That was not the reaction he was expecting.
“Don’t cry, Rissa love.” He pulled her close, catching the small pearl with one hand before it could hit the ground. She burrowed her face in his chest, and he hated the way her body trembled in his arms. “Please, don’t cry.”
Wrapping one arm around her waist, he reached across the dresser and lifted the lid of a black jar and dropped the pearl inside. It tinkled softly in the round jar.
She peeked over from where she used his shirt to dry her eyes. “You…you collect the pearls.”
It was more a statement of fact as opposed to a question, and Solarius suddenly found himself painfully uncomfortable. He kept his arm locked around her, rubbing one hand along the back of his neck, uncertain of how she would respond tothe truth. He eased back only slightly, just enough to gauge her reaction, to see her face when he explained himself.
“All the ones that are because of me.” Solarius nodded solemnly. “Yes.”
