longer.”
And, he hoped, wife and son would both be tired out in a few hours, so he could tuck them in before heading to the Hall for his chat with Daemon.
“The house has a lot of potential,” Jaenelle said as she faced the mirror over her dressing table and fastened a sapphire and ruby earring to her left ear. Her eyes met Daemon’s as she smiled. “But I think the condition of the house had Marian a little upset.”
Damn. He’d hoped the lovely hearth witch would be able to calm her husband a little before Lucivar got here. If Marian was upset, Lucivar would arrive at the Hall as a walking explosion.
“So you’re going to do this.” He’d thought about it all afternoon. There wasn’t anything dangerous about this spooky house; it was just a silly amusement. The Darkness knew the Queens in Terreille had done some vicious things in the name of amusement, and this wouldn’t hurt anyone. But something about it bothered him. He just couldn’t figure out why.
“Yes, Daemon, we’re going to do this.”
She fastened the other earring to her right ear, and his attention was caught by something much more interesting than an old house.
He’d loved her long golden hair, had loved the feel of it in his hands or when it brushed over his skin. But the short hair, properly cut and styled thanks to Surreal’s badgering, nicely framed her face and revealed her neck. And that was the fascination.
There was something about the spot where her neck and right shoulder met. Not the left side, just the right. An enticing scent. A special taste. It wasn’t something she put on her skin, and there wasn’t a scent gland under the skin. But for Warlord Princes, that particular spot was like catnip. They wanted to breathe in the scent of it, lick it, close their mouths over it, and—
Down, boy. Don’t start what you can’t finish until much, much later.
He hadn’t thought about how often he came up behind her and kissed that spot, lingering for a moment to get the taste of her, until he realized Lucivar did the same thing, except the kiss was quick and friendly. Until he noticed all the Warlord Princes in the First Circle did the same thing, even Kaelas and Jaal, so the fascination wasn’t just to human males.
And it wasn’t exclusive to Jaenelle. He hadn’t noticed this behavior in Terreille, but every Queen in Kaeleer had that special little spot—a spot that appealed only to the Warlord Princes who served her.
Which had him circling back around to Jaenelle’s hair. Long, it had hidden the enticement unless she put her hair up or braided it. Now the short golden hair led the eye down her neck right to that spot and—
“Are you all right?” Jaenelle asked. “Your eyes are glazing.”
It took a little too much effort to leash his libido, but he managed to do it. Or to be more precise, Jaenelle’s slightly puzzled, slightly amused look managed to do it. Besides, this wasn’t an evening to let his mind wander.
“I’m fine.” He hesitated, then decided he’d better warn her.
“Lucivar will be coming over after dinner.”
She picked up a bottle of perfume he’d given her recently and applied a drop to her pulse points. “Is he upset about something?”
“Yes.” No point in denying it.
She set the bottle on the dressing table and turned to face him. It had been easier talking to her reflection than being pinned by those sapphire eyes.
“Do you know what it is?” Witch asked.
He shook his head. “But it’s…between brothers.”
She turned back to the mirror and put on the multigemmed bracelet he’d given her before they were married, during the weeks when he’d been afraid she was going to turn away from him forever. “Then I’ll stay in the suite this evening. It sounds like this discussion would be easier if there are no distractions.”
“I think so.” He wouldn’t have asked her to stay away, but he was relieved that she understood her presence would hinder any attempt at
And, he hoped, wife and son would both be tired out in a few hours, so he could tuck them in before heading to the Hall for his chat with Daemon.
“The house has a lot of potential,” Jaenelle said as she faced the mirror over her dressing table and fastened a sapphire and ruby earring to her left ear. Her eyes met Daemon’s as she smiled. “But I think the condition of the house had Marian a little upset.”
Damn. He’d hoped the lovely hearth witch would be able to calm her husband a little before Lucivar got here. If Marian was upset, Lucivar would arrive at the Hall as a walking explosion.
“So you’re going to do this.” He’d thought about it all afternoon. There wasn’t anything dangerous about this spooky house; it was just a silly amusement. The Darkness knew the Queens in Terreille had done some vicious things in the name of amusement, and this wouldn’t hurt anyone. But something about it bothered him. He just couldn’t figure out why.
“Yes, Daemon, we’re going to do this.”
She fastened the other earring to her right ear, and his attention was caught by something much more interesting than an old house.
He’d loved her long golden hair, had loved the feel of it in his hands or when it brushed over his skin. But the short hair, properly cut and styled thanks to Surreal’s badgering, nicely framed her face and revealed her neck. And that was the fascination.
There was something about the spot where her neck and right shoulder met. Not the left side, just the right. An enticing scent. A special taste. It wasn’t something she put on her skin, and there wasn’t a scent gland under the skin. But for Warlord Princes, that particular spot was like catnip. They wanted to breathe in the scent of it, lick it, close their mouths over it, and—
Down, boy. Don’t start what you can’t finish until much, much later.
He hadn’t thought about how often he came up behind her and kissed that spot, lingering for a moment to get the taste of her, until he realized Lucivar did the same thing, except the kiss was quick and friendly. Until he noticed all the Warlord Princes in the First Circle did the same thing, even Kaelas and Jaal, so the fascination wasn’t just to human males.
And it wasn’t exclusive to Jaenelle. He hadn’t noticed this behavior in Terreille, but every Queen in Kaeleer had that special little spot—a spot that appealed only to the Warlord Princes who served her.
Which had him circling back around to Jaenelle’s hair. Long, it had hidden the enticement unless she put her hair up or braided it. Now the short golden hair led the eye down her neck right to that spot and—
“Are you all right?” Jaenelle asked. “Your eyes are glazing.”
It took a little too much effort to leash his libido, but he managed to do it. Or to be more precise, Jaenelle’s slightly puzzled, slightly amused look managed to do it. Besides, this wasn’t an evening to let his mind wander.
“I’m fine.” He hesitated, then decided he’d better warn her.
“Lucivar will be coming over after dinner.”
She picked up a bottle of perfume he’d given her recently and applied a drop to her pulse points. “Is he upset about something?”
“Yes.” No point in denying it.
She set the bottle on the dressing table and turned to face him. It had been easier talking to her reflection than being pinned by those sapphire eyes.
“Do you know what it is?” Witch asked.
He shook his head. “But it’s…between brothers.”
She turned back to the mirror and put on the multigemmed bracelet he’d given her before they were married, during the weeks when he’d been afraid she was going to turn away from him forever. “Then I’ll stay in the suite this evening. It sounds like this discussion would be easier if there are no distractions.”
“I think so.” He wouldn’t have asked her to stay away, but he was relieved that she understood her presence would hinder any attempt at
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