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The spark turned into an inferno, dancing a frenzied beat in her belly. This time, she gaped at Henry, noting the serious expression on his face.
“Hmm,” Pampei murmured, frowning. Then the man’s face cleared. “Let’s drink to that, then, shall we?”
Pippa was all too happy to take out a jug of spirits when the tension died down and distribute cups to them. The hand around Pearl let her go, an indication that the show was done—for now. She tried not to lament its loss and forced herself to focus on Pippa.
“May I ask who your mother is?”
“Why?” The hint of defense didn’t go unnoticed.
“So I could give her some potions. As a thank you for you guys inviting us for dinner.”
“Oh.” Pippa’s shoulders relaxed. “She’s gone.”
“Gone?”
“She died of an illness when I was a kid. You might remember her. Maureen Salazar?”
Pearl scanned her mind until an image of the cheerful pot maker floated in. She perused the jug and cups once more, amazement blooming at the intricate designs painted on them.
“Saph bought some plates from her a few times,” Pearl said. “I might have broken some on endless potion experiments, but the rest are in our pantry, and regularly used.”
“That’s awesome.”
When Pippa was done pouring drinks into each cup, Pearl covered the woman’s hand with hers.
“If you need potions, or help with anything, let me know. I assume you live in Maureen’s old cottage?”
“Yes. That’s…that’s awesome of you, Miss Sutton.”
“It’s Pearl.” Pearl winked. “And us girls need to stick together.”
Pink bloomed on the younger woman’s cheeks, pleasing Pearl. She basked in it until she felt someone’s attention. Sure enough, dark brown eyes were pinning her in place, the scrutiny rekindling the frenzied beat in her belly. In defense, she raised a brow.
“What?”
He leaned forward until his mouth was close to her ear, a move that would make any watcher think he was just nuzzling. She closed her eyes, willing her body not to react.
“Watch that sass. We’re still under watch.”
His voice was low, dangerously so. She knew she was the only one who heard him, so she turned her head until she was the one whispering in his ear.
“I’m not changing my attitude for anyone, least of all a lover. Everyone knows that. Take it or leave it.”
It took all of her willpower not to clasp her mouth on his lobe and tease, unsure if he would respond with a groan or toss her out the window. It would probably be the latter. She straightened before she could do it, opening her eyes and avoiding his gaze. In doing so, she met Pampei’s glint of approval as he nudged their cups.
“I don’t think—”
“Thank you,” Henry cut in, graciously taking a cup and sipping. Pleasure reflected at his first taste, and she bit her lip and looked away from the expression.
Ten minutes later, Pampei was entertaining them with the story of how he found out about his kid daughter after a brief relationship with Maureen. Half an hour later, Henry was sharing stories, too, of how the Council ran things now and how John had remained one of the few warlocks who fought for even the smallest creature’s freedom while still preserving the island’s safety.
“I hope he’s your role model, young man. I would hate to see you grow up without consideration for the people around you.”
“He was like that before he met me—ouch.” Pearl scowled at the pinch on her knee, then grinned at Henry’s furrowed brows and couldn’t resist teasing him some more. “He’s in denial, but it’s true. I whipped him into shape.”
Red tinged his cheeks, but he didn’t protest. He cleared his throat. “I’m already grown up and can make my choices. But yes, John’s a decent fellow.”
“Whipped,” Pearl mouthed to Pampei, then startled when she was pulled closer once more.
