Chapter 21 #2
Zafir’s hand snuck around my neck and his fingers pressed near the base of my head, tilting my face up so he could smooth out whatever flaw had appeared in my makeup.
“Hold still,” he said quietly. “I need to focus.” He slowly dragged his thumb across the bottom of my lip.
He only wanted a pretty face to look at, nothing more. In some absurd way, it almost felt like a betrayal. I wasn’t all that hideous.
I cleared my throat and shoved down my absurd feelings. “You said you were going to teach me how to charm men. What’s the first step?” If having a pretty face helped the love potion to work, then fine. I needed to help the potion along the best I could.
“I already told you, having a woman who was interested in his work.”
“I’m interested in your work.” Was I flirting enough? Or was I painfully obvious? “I’m highly interested.”
“Are you, now?”
“Deeply. I’m always impressed when someone successfully brews a complicated potion. Can you tell me about the infatuation elixir? How difficult was it to make?”
“Very,” he breathed. “The base can’t be alcohol; that dulls the magic. Nor water lest it becomes too unstable. It uses distilled moondew, heated precisely until it almost begins to simmer. If it actually simmers, it’s ruined.”
“Sounds impressive. Thank you for making it for me.”
His thumb caressed my jawline. “I would do anything for y—” He broke off, looking horrified, then quickly stepped away from me and dropped the makeup brush as if it had burned him.
He had been flirting with me—actively flirting. The potion was working. Would it become less effective if I drew attention to its efficacy?
I brushed my hand against his arm, and he flinched away. “Don’t do that,” he ordered me, sounding much more like his former self.
“Why not?”
“Because it isn’t helping.” He held out his hand like he was warding off an attack.
I leaned closer and several more beads of sweat broke out on his forehead. “Maybe I want to see if the potion’s working. If so, I’ll need to start taking notes.”
He swallowed hard. “I believe it’s working a teeny, tiny bit. At least, I can tolerate being in your presence without wanting to toss you out a window now.”
“Once my makeup was fixed, you mean?”
He softened. “You don’t think I offered simply so I could touch you? Admit it—you wouldn’t allow me to get that close otherwise.”
I caught my breath. “So…you don’t think I’m ugly?”
“Not in the slightest. You’re beau—” He breathed before catching himself and shutting his eyes. “Make a note. The love potion works. The end.”
I smiled. “We need much more detailed notes than that. Tell me about your exact reaction.”
He stared at the ceiling and clenched his fists. “Elevated heart rate, mild warmth in my chest, increased attention to detail. You might want to write that down. Over there.” He gestured vaguely to the opposite side of the room.
I picked up the notepad and began recording. “What sort of details did you start noticing?”
His posture grew more rigid and his eyes darted around the room as if looking for an escape. “Nothing important.”
“Zafir!” I scolded, fist on my hip. “This is all important if we want this to work.”
He glanced once at me then turned to face the opposite wall. “Your appearance, personality, and mannerisms, mostly. There seem to be some distracting—distracted! Distracted, intrusive thoughts.”
I walked around him so I could watch his reactions. “Describe your thoughts.”
A faint pink tinged Zafir’s cheeks. “I just did. They don’t make sense.”
“You can do better than that. Besides, we already talked about this. It’s the potion talking, not you.” I reached out and squeezed his hand. “I know you hate me too much to actually fall in love.”
Zafir flinched but didn’t immediately pull away. His eyes closed, then very slowly and carefully he withdrew his hand. “Alia, please stop.”
“Then you better give me more verbal feedback.”
“I felt the urge to strike up conversation and thought of opportunities to spend time with you. I wanted…I wanted to touch you.”
I went to the desk and scribbled it down. “What else?”
The flush in his cheeks intensified. “I imagined—very briefly—kissing you.” His face would have shamed an overripe tomato. “Curse this elixir.”
I couldn’t prevent a smile stretching across my face. “And such an image didn’t revolt you?”
“Ah, no. Quite the opposite, actually. I can’t…can’t stop the images from intruding into my thoughts.”
“So we know the potion is working then. Excellent. I look forward to slipping it into Julian’s drink.”
Zafir’s head snapped around. “We can’t give this to him.”
“Why not? He’s the perfect mark to give this to.”
“He also lacks my self-restraint. I wouldn’t wish this on him.”
“Meaning you wouldn’t wish me on him?”
“No!” Zafir reached out for me then stopped himself. He pressed his fist against his forehead. “Meaning that this reaction is significantly stronger than I expected. If I’m struggling, Julian doesn’t stand a chance.”
“But that’s what we want. We want him to fall for me and hand over his purse.”
“I don’t ever want Julian to picture you like I just—” He broke off, chest heaving. “He can’t think of you this way. No one should. In fact—” He snatched up his abandoned jacket and threw it over me. “I don’t even want to see you right now. I’m already tempted enough as it is.”
I lifted the edge of the jacket to peek out from under it.
I watched him force every breath, every thought, back into place.
This wasn’t funny anymore. It was painful for me to watch him endure it.
For the first time, I didn’t want to tease him.
“It seems the second dose of the potion might have been a mistake.”
“Clearly.” Zafir reached over to drape the jacket back over my face. “I’ve made enough of a fool of myself and I don’t wish to continue.”
He had suffered enough. I kept the covering over my head but couldn’t resist the stupid grin that plastered itself across my face. “How long are the effects supposed to last?”
“At least another hour.”
“Can you make an antidote?”
“Not in the allotted time left. Just don’t talk. Or move. Or exist. It’s too distracting.”
My unseen grin broadened. “I shall cease to exist for the next hour, then.”
“Good.” His voice was strained. “I’m going to read. Silently. In the corner.”
For several minutes, I sat quietly under the jacket and used the opportunity to lift the vials he’d reclaimed out of the jacket pocket and tuck them into my bodice.
Hopefully Zafir wouldn’t look there. But the air grew stiflingly hot and muggy and I lifted the jacket once more to breathe some fresh air.
Zafir wasn’t reading at all. He was holding a book up to cover his face so closely that the pages touched his skin. The book was upside down.
I watched him. He was clearly focusing on his breathing, inhaling and exhaling with extreme intentionality.
It was rare to find a man with his level of self-control.
It was admirable, really. I tilted my head.
He really was fighting hard against the potion’s effects and was doing it to protect me from himself.
He lowered the book. “Go on and laugh,” he grumbled. “I know you want to.”
“No, I don’t,” I told him honestly.
He buried his face into the book again. “I’ve never been so humiliated in my entire life.”
“Hey,” I said softly, dropping the jacket and coming over to crouch in front of him so he was forced to look at me.
“There’s nothing humiliating about this.
Like I told you, it’s just the potion talking, and you showing this much restraint when you’ve been double-dosed is genuinely commendable.
I wish other men had even half the strength of character you’ve exhibited. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
Zafir’s eyes narrowed in suspicion.
“Look, should I have been embarrassed that I regained consciousness after you gave me that blood-replenishing potion?”
“It’s not the same.”
“It is, though. Both were simple physical reactions to an elixir designed for a specific purpose. If you’re embarrassed by this, then I should have been embarrassed by the blood-replenishing potion working when I needed it to.
These feelings are just a testament to how excellent an alchemist you are. ”
“You’re being kind.”
I stood up. “When I’m not busy being a venomous viper or plotting to murder my ex-husband, I’m actually a very kind person.”
Zafir ran a hand down his face. “You can mock me if it helps. I deserve it.”
“No. You deserve to be complimented, not criticized. It was an uncomfortable situation and you willingly took it on for science.” I gently placed a hand on his shoulder. “I admire you for that.”
The touch acted like some form of catalyst.
In a moment, Zafir stood, caught my wrist, and pulled me in close, his other hand sliding up to cradle the back of my head.
I inhaled sharply at the sudden loss of space.
He was about to kiss me. I pushed back against his unyielding chest, but he continued to crowd forward, as though some invisible force urged him on.
I stepped backward again and again until my legs struck the edge of the settee.
“Zafir…” I said, the slightest tremor of fear slipping into my voice. “What’re you doing?”
His head dipped toward mine, eyes dark and unfocused, and panic surged through me. This wasn’t romance; it was a potion-induced compulsion. He was losing control.
“I need you,” he said hoarsely, his grip tightening as his hand slid more firmly behind my head. “You know you belong with me.”
“You… you aren’t yourself,” I said, turning my face just enough that his lips brushed past my cheek instead of finding mine. “Remember, this is the potion talking, not you.”
His breath fanned across my skin, warm and uneven, and the hand holding me trembled as though every instinct in him was warring. His thumb dragged slowly along my neck, not possessive but unsteady, as if he were afraid of what his own touch might do.
I had nowhere left to retreat.