AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I withdraw the observation then.” Rogue grinned at me and swept a bow to Starling. “Now, as your own person, can you still arrange for an intimate dinner for two?”
“Oh! Of course, Lord Rogue—”
“Wait. I didn’t agree to dinner.”
“Must you argue every little thing, stubborn Gwynn?”
I cocked my head at him, returning his assessing gaze, pretending to think about it. He looked good, of course, dressed in his standard black. But his current outfit looked more…romantic, dammit. A loose-sleeved shirt was tucked into tight pants, the collar open to reveal a tantalizing bit of golden skin, the swirling black lines of the fanged pattern from his face and throat continuing downward.
“Yes,” I decided. “I do.”
“I still owe you a lesson for the day. We can eat and talk. Afterward, bed.” His tone made it sound like ever so much more.
“Isn’t it early yet?” I glanced at the skyflaps to see the same persistent glittering gray.
“Yes—but I thought you might tire early, given your exertions today.”
“That’s surprisingly thoughtful.”
“I’m making an effort.” His voice held a wry tone that was new. Almost self-deprecating, if that were possible from the King of Megalomania.
Starling, with an apologetic look to me, slipped out of the tent, presumably to arrange dinner. I winced as Darling’s paws sank into my shoulder, and the cat walked down my body, his personal ladder, into my lap.
“Don’t mind me,” I muttered and he flicked his tail, thankfully much drier now, under my nose.
Darling sent me an affectionate thought and, broadcasting the same image of the mermaid on a plate, he strolled out.
Rogue watched him go. “Do you suppose he really did get to taste one?”
“Don’t you know?” I was genuinely surprised.
“I don’t know everything. Would you like to change for dinner? I’d be happy to wait while you do. Or watch.”
“Let me think. No way.”
He smiled, in a very close to charming way. “Can’t blame me for trying.”
“Do you know what happens when the irresistible force meets the immoveable object?”
“Do you imagine that your powers equal mine?”
“I can imagine a lot of things.”
Rogue brushed a lock of hair off my forehead, with an almost tender gesture. “Indeed you can, my Gwynn.”
Larch, followed by several of his Brownie cohort, marched into the tent just then, carrying a small table, two chairs and an array of dishes. They set to moving the pillows—I swore the things multiplied like rabbits when I wasn’t looking—to clear a space, then draped the table with a black cloth and set two crystal candlesticks with deep-blue candles on it.
I felt the flick of Rogue’s thought when he lit the candles into dancing flames.
“Fire is against Falcon’s rules,” I reminded him.
Rogue raised an elegant inky eyebrow at me. “Falcon does not make rules for me.”
“Must be nice.”
“Indeed.” He offered me a hand up from my seat. “Shall we, my lady?”
The food smelled enticing. Much more so than my usual fare. Clearly Starling had gone all out for Rogue’s visit. I bit into fowl in a sort of tasty curried mushroom sauce, perfectly complemented by the flaky pastry, and closed my eyes to savor it.
