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Julie leans in and gives me a gentle smile. “They’re something else, aren’t they?”
“I have a fae-ted mate,” I tell her.
“Being fae-ted doesn’t mean you’re blind.”
“Or dead,” a deep male voice says from behind Julie.
She turns quickly and curtsies, then stays in that position while Prince El’jah approaches me. He stands as tall as his brother, the king, but whereas the king’s hair is dark as night, El’jah’s is blond. Straight and golden, it reflects both sun and moonlight. As do his beautiful sea-blue eyes that seem to sparkle as he gives me a shameless once-over. “I might have to move to the Spring Court just so I can look at you every night.” He bows deeply, a wicked glint in his eye.
I offer him my hand, which he kisses, raising goose bumps on my arm.
“Julie,” he says, and Julie rises from her curtsy.
“My prince.” They lock eyes as lovers might, and a current of tension practically crackles in the air between them.
Time stills. Noises fade. The seas stop moving.
The moment of silence is so brief and unreal that I’m sure I imagined it, because the next thing that happens is Julie sidesteps him and takes my hand.
“Thank you for the invitation,” she says.
The prince chuckles. “Thank you for showing up. Finally.”
“I’ve been busy,” she answers.
He gives her a once-over and lingers on her bare belly. Julie wears a two-piece outfit that barely covers her privates. She’s curvy, with a gentle, inviting element to her personality that makes her uncommonly pleasant. Though I doubt that’s all that prince sees. I think he sees her as a potential partner.
When his eyes meet hers, he purrs, “Have you come here to tease me?” He slides up to her so that their chests are touching. I’m trying to let go of her hand, but she holds me tightly.
El’jah leans in and sniffs, his eyes blazing. “You taste like my birthday cake, if I remember correctly. And I do. I want another bite.”
“You don’t bite twice. That’s your rule.”
“I made those rules, so I get to break them.”
I’m hot just looking at these two.
I expect Julie to answer him, but all she does is swallow and look away. “Perhaps this was a bad idea.”
“We can leave,” I suggest, staring longingly at a private space under a tent made of a beige canopy tied to a pair of low hanging palm trees. Under the cover is a space made from colorful pillows and a rug. Exotic drinks along with trays of food sit on a low table. The space seats only two, which is perfect for Julie and me to watch the partygoers.
El’jah steps back. “Nonsense.” He pecks Julie’s cheek. “I will behave. Promise.” He offers me his elbow, and the space where my hand touches his arm brims with vibrations I can’t quite place.
“Do you see a particular space where you’d like to spend the evening?”
I point. “Over there.”
We arrive under the linen canopy, and the smell of summer herbs and oils makes me moan.
“Masseuses are making their rounds,” the prince says. “In the meantime, let’s open the dance, shall we?”
He whisks me away before I get a chance to say anything, and this dance, between the raging fires, isn’t like any other. Oh no, this one is much more challenging to say the least.
Prince El’jah, whose beauty is difficult to look at from afar, brings me almost up against his body, which emanates some kind of captivating energy, unlike anything I’ve encountered before.
Since I’m mated, I don’t smell the scents of other males as strongly as I do D’Artaron’s, and although I’m not attracted to the prince, he’s pulling me in with his scent. I sniff, yet don’t quite scent anything alluring. But…
“Your magic,” I say. “It’s your magic.” It’s as if he’s one of the merfolk, but not quite. He’s more demanding, more charming, more sinister, promising to deliver all my decadent pleasures, my darkest, most forbidden desires. Whoo.
