Chapter 23 #3
I pulled so hard against Zafir’s neck that he stepped forward, driving me back until we collided with the shelving.
The impact caused one of his bottles to teeter then fall from its perch and smash against the stone floor.
Bright green liquid splattered us and the stone wall, jarring us back to our senses.
We broke apart. Zafir let out a muttered oath under his breath and began frantically scrubbing the liquid off both of us.
“You have to get it off fast; that’s acidic sea serpent mucus,” he explained, snatching up the hand towel from beside the wash basin to hurry things along. “It will burn down to the bone if it’s left on too long.”
I yelped and copied Zafir, wiping down any that was on my skin. It took several minutes to make sure every bit of mucus was contained.
“Is that all?” I asked, looking around for any splatters that could burn an unsuspecting person who put their hand on the wrong shelf or stepped into a puddle.
“Yes. And any left will dry up within the hour. It only affects living animals; it has no effect on stone or glass. Do you feel any burning?”
“No.” The persistent heat from our time kissing had faded too, leaving such a cold embarrassment in its place that I couldn’t even look at Zafir. I’d been stupid to let my feelings run away with me during a lesson about learning to seduce another man. “Sorry about your mucus.”
He cleared his throat. “It’s only two hundred dinars an ounce.”
I nearly choked. “So expensive!”
“It doesn’t matter. I don’t use it very often.” He hastily turned to scrub his already-spotless desk. Awkwardness hovered over us, making each second feel like an hour.
I couldn’t find the courage to meet his eyes.
It wouldn’t have mattered if I’d tried anyway; he had begun busily rearranging the rest of the bottles on his shelf and adjusting them by the tiniest amount so all their labels faced directly forward.
His gaze was locked onto his task, without even the slightest glance in my direction.
Shame crept in. This wasn’t supposed to happen.
After couples kissed, they were supposed to feel closer and more intimate.
I shouldn’t have brought up kissing as part of the lesson.
I should have pushed him away or else stopped it before it turned into something that felt much too real.
But I hadn’t. When Zafir had given me that breath of a first kiss, I’d stupidly leaned in and completely lost control.
It was fortunate, really, that the bottle had smashed when it did.
I wouldn’t have had the strength to pull away otherwise.
And now the silence settled on my chest like tangible weight.
The minutes dragged on.
Did I expect that he’d say something? There was nothing he could say that would help me forget the press of his mouth against mine or the silky feel of his hair beneath my fingers. Were we supposed to laugh it off like it was part of the lesson or act like it never happened?
Zafir had never lost control like that before, not even when he’d been outrageously overdosed on that infatuation elixir.
Everything he did was always measured and calculated.
He wouldn’t let things slip unless he meant them to.
So, what had that kiss meant to him? Was this a symptom of his not taking the Stillheart potion like normal, or was it more than that?
For a brief time, I’d thought we had shared a connection, some bond that was deeper than even my desire for revenge on Rahil.
But now? Now we stood facing opposite directions like we were strangers.
It was worse than being with a stranger, really.
I couldn’t undo what I’d already done. What if I admitted aloud that I didn’t need an infatuation elixir to be attracted to Zafir anymore?
What would he think? Surely he didn’t see me as just his ticket to find a genie… did he?
My stomach coiled unpleasantly, and I busied myself with picking up papers and putting them down again without actually reading a single word.
I didn’t want to feel used, even though that was exactly what I was doing to Julian.
What foolishness had come over me? I had a plan.
I was supposed to get close to Julian and use him to get the funding so I could return, help Nadia, and stop Rahil before he took any more brides.
I didn’t have the emotional capacity to handle some ludicrous romantic attraction to the man holding me captive on top of everything else. He was unreasonable and obnoxious and…
I glanced sideways. Zafir was fidgeting with some delicate instrument and didn’t look up.
His tunic’s collar was slightly askew and I wanted, absurdly, to fix it.
I clenched my hands into fists so tight my nails dug into my palm.
What was wrong with me? It had been just a kiss.
People kissed each other all the time. Did they feel the same way I did and simply conceal it better?
Nothing came to mind to help break the uncomfortable silence. Which would be worse, making small talk or leaving the quiet as it was?
I elected to continue the silence.
The worst thing, I decided, wasn’t small talk or saying nothing. The worst thing would be if I brought attention to the kiss only to discover that he had only intended it as a lesson and felt nothing at all for me.
I couldn’t bear the thought.
“You’re meeting Julian in a few hours,” Zafir said abruptly. His voice sounded overly loud and crisp.
“I know.”
“Wear green.” He was still refusing to look at me. Did he blame me? If so, he ought to blame himself as well. I hadn’t been the only person involved in that kiss.