19. Clair
CLAIR
Clair hurried along after their hostess with Kaelus beside her, taking a more measured stride. Before they had gone too far, however, he put a hand on her shoulder.
“Clair—a word,” he rumbled.
“Yes?” She slowed a little and looked up at him.
“Are you certain you’re all right with this?” Kaelus was looking at her earnestly, his golden eyes filled with concern. “I will be putting my hands all over you—touching you as if you really were my wife and your body was mine to pleasure and possess.”
The way he put it sent a little shiver down Clair’s spine.
“Oh, I’m sure it’s not that big of a deal,” she said, trying to keep her voice light.
“Probably just a back rub—maybe a foot massage too.” She frowned.
“Unless you don’t want to touch my feet—in which case, I don’t blame you.
Some people just don’t like them—feet, I mean.
Mine are fine though—I get regular pedicures so—”
“Clair,” he interrupted, and she realized she’d been babbling. Maybe she was more nervous about this massage than she’d first thought.
“Um, yes?” she asked.
“There is no part of you I don’t want to touch,” Kaelus growled softly. “That’s part of the problem. I want to touch you intimately much more than I should. The question is, do you want me to touch you?”
Clair felt her stomach flutter, and she couldn’t help remembering all the hot, dirty things he’d talked about wanting to do to her last night. Still, she didn’t want to get carried away.
“I’m sure it’s just a back rub,” she said, trying to hide her nerves.
Kaelus raised his eyebrows at her.
“And if it’s not?”
“Then we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” she said firmly. “The main thing is not to make them suspect we’re not really married. We have to play our parts, no matter what.”
Kaelus nodded.
“As you wish. Then we’d better hurry and catch up to Maera before she becomes suspicious.”
As if in answer to his words, Maera’s voice trilled down the corridor.
“Come now, my dears—you don’t want to be late for massage night!”
“I guess that’s our cue.” Clair took a deep breath. “Come on—we’d better go.”
But as they hurried down the corridor to join their hostess, she couldn’t help wondering what she’d gotten herself into…and how intimate, exactly, “massage night” was going to get.