Ignoring her dismay, Cookie anchored her hair into a severe knot at her nape, with no strand out of place. No other style would complement her amazing dress. Which she donned, amazed all over again as the garment cinched to her curves, creating a seamless fit.
The desire to square her shoulders and straighten her spine proved undeniable. A desire she heeded, feeling as if she’d exchanged a worry-prone avatar for a military general. Or head mistress.
Madam Cookie.
Her thoughts cleared and sharpened, the dismay fading. She almost smiled, but humphed with disapproval instead. Which jewelry should she don? The pearl brooch caught her notice. She pinned the beauty over her heart.
As unhurried as any stern matron, Cookie headed for the door. Which swung open before she reached it.
Kaysar strode inside the bedroom, the sight of him arresting her. He wore all black, his dark hair was gloriously windblown and spiky. He’d trimmed his beard, a thick shadow dusting his jaw.
For some reason, metal claws adorned only one of his hands today. Combat boots and an assortment of weapons added to his drool-worthy appeal.
Even as her body reacted with a dizzying rush, the dress served her well, helping her maintain a stoic expression. If she was going to sleep with this man—and she might—she required a level head about the matter.
“You are awake, as Eye predicted.” He glided closer, sweeping his gaze over her and stopping midway. Hot, blatant desire glittered in his eyes. As smooth as whiskey, twice as intoxicating. “You chose the disciplinarian.”
She didn’t fidget, just allowed him to look his fill, revealing nothing.
“If you’re curious to know whether or not I examined your naked body as I bathed you, allow me to put your mind at ease,” he said. “I did. The entire time. I have no regrets.”
“As if you are strong enough to resist this.” She waved a hand to indicate her curves, certain she presented a picture of grace, elegance and sophistication. Most likely perfection, too.
Well. The schoolmarm had game and a healthy ego. Good to know.
“What happened after I fainted?” she asked.
A flicker of...something darkened his expression. “Jareth fought off the remaining soldiers as I carried you. We reached the fortress later that evening. Once I realized I could flitter, the guards stood no chance. I kept the servants and fetched Eye. She—”
“She?” Apparently the “disciplinarian” possessed a nasty jealous streak. “Who is Eye?” And how soon can I kill her?
“She’s an oracle who sees into the past, present and future,” he said with a dismissive wave. “Hardly worth mentioning.” Cautious, unsure, he approached Cookie once again. “Do you regret what happened with Micah’s army?”
“Not even a little,” she admitted, her jealousy eroding. “Why? Should I?”
“You should not.” He lifted a hand, snapped his fingers, and stepped aside. “Starving, sweetling? Allow me to satisfy your hunger.”
A procession of servants entered the room, no one daring to glance in her direction. Were they cowed by Kaysar or Cookie? Or were they simply following orders? Two men carried a small round table. Two others marched in with chairs, and six women followed with food and drink. The accompanying scents proved divine, and Cookie’s mouth watered.
As the servants set up a romantic meal near the hearth, Kaysar stared at her, hard. Her nipples tightened beneath the dress.
Reveal nothing.
The group retreated, shutting the door behind them, leaving Cookie and Kaysar alone.
His countenance changed dramatically right before her eyes. From reserved to fierce, as if a mask had slipped. He bared his teeth in the semblance of a smile. “We have many things to discuss.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
KAYSAR HAD BEEN miserable these long, torturous days without Chantel. He’d missed her the way he would miss a vital organ. He’d craved her company, complaints and praises. There were so many things he ached to do with her. To her. Things he needed to do.
The moment he’d spotted her starched, somber dress, he’d feared the worst. That Jareth had proven correct, and she’d mourned her previous behavior. That she intended to punish Kaysar. He should have held fast to his certainty: he knew her best, and he was never wrong about anything ever. Except when he was wrong.
She’d chosen the stern maiden to help herself resist Kaysar. But she would fail. There was no one more determined, and he already scented her arousal.
He motioned to the table. “Shall we sit?” Something had occurred to him as she’d slept off the effects of the elderseed.
Desires beyond the physical seethed inside him—desires only she could assuage. But she couldn’t know what he required of her unless he told her. The same was true of him. He couldn’t know what she needed unless she explained. He yearned to know.
A slight nod revealed no hint of her emotions. “We shall.”
For her, he could pretend to be a gentleman—he wanted to be. He swept over to ready her chair. “Please, sit here.” When speaking to a woman you hoped to entice into your bed for the rest of your lifetime, you did not issue demands. You offered requests. Or so he believed he’d witnessed from other males.
Something he knew beyond a doubt. When you failed to respect something, you lost it. If you accepted its loss, you were never worthy of it in the first place.
A silent Chantel eased upon the cushion, as graceful as a swan. He scooted her forward, gently but firmly, before claiming the seat across from her.
He wanted this matter settled as soon as possible. Acting nonplussed, he flipped his napkin to unfold it, and said, “I’ve made no secret of my desire for you.”
She arched a brow the same shade of obsidian as her hair. The darkness enhanced her pale skin and rosy cheeks, her delicacy. “Diving into the deep end right at the beginning? A bold strategy. Very well. I’m game to play.” A imperial wave of her fingers. “Please, do continue.”
Actually, his strategy was much simpler. Honesty, no matter the consequences. And lavish gifts, priceless in value. He wasn’t above bribery to secure this woman. “I’m determined to have you at my side and in my bed. Forever. I’m willing to take the necessary steps to acquire your complete surrender.”
“My complete surrender. Forever, no less.” Again, she gave nothing away. “You wish to bargain for sex, after all?”
“I do. But also your future,” he said. Let there be no misunderstandings between them.
He waited for a response... She selected the choicest of berries from the bowl and bit into half of it. Red juice wet her lips.