Chapter Twenty-One #2
Stefan went very rigid behind me, and then he relaxed, blowing out a long breath.
“I should know better by now than to think you’ll be fooled by a cover story.
I’m sorry. This isn’t—forgive me, it’s not the first time I’ve been driven out of bed with someone by work.
” He sighed again, gave me a squeeze, and began to disengage from me, slowly and carefully.
“It is the first time I’ve ever been in bed with someone I could trust with my real reason for leaving, though. I’m not used to it yet.”
He rolled off the bed and said loudly enough for Fritz to hear, “I’ll meet you in my study in five minutes.”
Stefan went around the end of the bed and into my bathroom, and I flipped over awkwardly, taking the opportunity to make myself look more seductively disheveled and less a sweaty mess stumbling around with my pants caught around my legs.
By the time he came back, I had the breeches up over my hips again, my shoes kicked off, and the damp curls brushed back out of my eyes and unstuck from my cheek, and I’d perched on the edge of the bed in a way that hopefully didn’t look too posed.
I needed the bath myself, and these breeches were now as ruined as my shirt. But maybe I could vanish them away with magic so Aldrich would never know.
And the way Stefan stopped and stared at me made it all worth it, his hot gaze sweeping over me, from my rumpled hair to my flushed face to my bare chest and unbuttoned breeches, and back again. He cleared his throat.
“Are you quite well?” he asked, the tone as oddly formal as the words. “I mean, are you recovered? From that bloody stup—from your misadventure?”
Was he reverting to a model husband’s politeness because he wanted to pretend the last hour of honest, unconcealed desire had never happened?
Or because he thought I did? The question withered on my tongue.
My surge of wild courage from earlier, when I’d been about to kiss him in the garden, had evaporated along with the cursed magic coursing through my veins.
“I’ve recovered,” I said. “Thank you.”
“Are you sure? Because I do need to go. If this is what I think it is, then I may be out most of the night. Do you feel well enough to write an apology note to Lord Corombos? If not, I can do it before I leave.”
“I’ll go alone and give him your apologies in person.
We’ve been married long enough that no one will think anything of it.
” For the first few months of a new marriage, spouses who appeared by themselves at large events like the banquet and rout Lord Corombos had invited us to tonight would be gossiped about.
“Anyway, half of Nevaia will be there. I’ll know dozens of people. ”
Stefan frowned, starting to get that stubborn gleam in his eyes. “You nearly died today. No, don’t argue with me, at the very least you nearly fainted and needed a doctor! You should stay home and rest.”
“If I stay home and rest, not only will everyone in the city hear a rumor that I nearly died, half of them will believe I’m already dead.
I’m going.” He glared at me, and I glared back.
He raised his eyebrows, waiting me out. “Fine, I won’t use any magic.
I promise. Not until I’m home with someone else present. ”
The eyebrows went down, and the glare softened slightly. And then softened completely, as he stood there looking at me…Ennolu and Dromos help me, but if I softened any more gazing back at him, I’d melt into a little pool at his feet.
“Very well,” he said at last. “Fritz will accompany you, and if anyone so much as hints that I’m not escorting you because I’m back to my old tricks, take their names down.
I’ll kill them tomorrow.” I stared at him.
He cleared his throat again. “I’m not. In case you were wondering. I haven’t, not since…for months.”
“I wasn’t wondering.” And I hadn’t been. Not only had I been observing his comings and goings, but Aldrich reported to me. Not to mention, the early morning chambermaid, who happened to be Aldrich’s cousin, reported to him. “You’ve been too busy.”
His lips pressed flat, and something in his posture changed, and then he was Lord Stefan again, with the quizzing glass not currently present but heavily implied.
He thought I meant—but I’d simply been telling the truth, that I hadn’t wondered, and he’d fucked me witless, so how could I be expected to think about the words coming out of my mouth and how he’d interpret them?
“Stefan, I—”
“Of course not,” he said shortly. “Although that’s not what I—anyway, I need to go.
Remi, if you feel ill again, send for a healer.
Don’t wait for me to do it. And if it’s in the middle of Lord Corombos’s blighted party, do it anyway.
I don’t give a rotten fig for a scandal, and if you try to prevent one at the cost of your own well-being, we’ll have words once you’re recovered. Understood?”
“Yes,” I said, a little breathlessly, and now I knew how those grooms had felt when he ordered them about earlier. Actually, I really hoped they hadn’t felt like this. “But I feel perfectly well.”
Physically, at least. I seemed to have lost my mind completely.
His eyes narrowed. My heart pounded wildly. Could he tell, somehow, that I’d started getting hard again, that if he so much as crooked a finger I’d go on my knees? Damn him!
“Then I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, and went to the door.
The moment he had his back turned I closed my eyes, and as soon as he’d shut the door behind him, I let out a long, shaky breath, collapsing onto my elbows and resting my face in my hands.
No, my erection wasn’t going anywhere, but I’d been off my potion for so long that I’d learned how to take care of myself in between Stefan’s visits.
I needed a bath before the party tonight anyway. Once I took care of my stupid body’s stupid needs, I’d be fine. I’d be absolutely fine without Stefan.
And damn him twice.