She waved her hand over her plate. “Not ponies or unicorns or even chocolate lollypops?”
“I assure you, Lady Foxglove, on my honor, I have given them no more incentive than spending the day preparing for Beltane.”
“Humph.” She suspected his motives for such pre paration were far from noble. What better way to get her to do the rituals than have her children cajole her? But she found herself happy for his help and his “parental” manipulation. It was nice to have someone else harangue the kids. Don’t get used to it.
“What preparations do you usually make?” Darius sipped his tea as if they’d shared breakfast hundreds of times.
Sabrina rubbed her head and tried to think. “Give me a moment. My head still hurts.”
“How much?”
“Sorry?”
“How much does it hurt?” He set down his mug and stood, reaching for her head.
“More of a dull ache than anything. Oohhhh…”
The moment he touched her, com fort and heat permeated her skull and soothed the pain. She hadn’t realized how much it hurt until he relieved it. She relaxed her shoulders and leaned into his warm hands, grateful the pain had stopped.
At last he stood back and tipped her chin up. Sabrina reluctantly opened her eyes.
“Better?”
“Yes, thank you.”
Darius smiled the same sincere smile she’d seen the day before. “You are welcome.”
Damn, she wanted to fall into those eyes, let him tell her everything would be all right and believe him. Why can’t life be so easy? But she knew better. She’d be alone again in a few days.
Sabrina jerked her attention back to the subject at hand. “Okay, what I usually do is make sure there’s enough firewood for the fire, attach the ribbons to the May Pole, and make two dozen Deviled Eggs.”
“ Eggs seem like an odd feast item for a fertility ritual of the Goddess.”
“Maybe, but they taste so good and we have to do something with all those eggs from Easter.”
Darius raised his eyebrow. “You celebrate Easter?”
“Yes, at least dyeing the eggs and hiding them for the girls. And we have baskets full of goodies to enjoy.”
“Oh? What’s in your basket, Sabrina?”
The way he said her name sent fire into inappropriate places. Her pussy tingled and her heartbeat sped up. What is wrong with me? All he did was say my name.
She cleared her throat and sucked down her tea to buy some time. “I prefer chocolate and essential oils, but sometimes all I get are jellybean eggs.”
He leaned toward her, his gaze smoldering, and some part of her wondered how the morning had gone from comfortable to sexy. “I’d be happy pack your basket with chocolate and essential oils, Sabrina . I find it very endearing you choose to celebrate all the holidays.” His gaze dropped to her lips and her pussy clenched.
Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me.
Darius tilted his head and reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. A small smile curled his lips as he cupped her cheek with his hand and drew her to him.
Darius brushed his lips against hers and her arousal hit the ceiling. He tasted of crisp autumn mornings , her favorite time of year, and she wanted to fall into his sweet flavor. She would have kept kissing if she hadn’t heard the furnace rattle and the girls loudly discussing who would put which wreath where. Reality intruded and Sabrina jerked back, her face hot.
Darius wore a similar dazed expression and they stared at each other for a few moments, trying to recollect their thoughts.
What’s wrong with me? He’s a seductive player, a gigolo, and all he wants from me is to do the rituals. None of this is real.
“What are you doing?”
****
What am I doing?
Darius hadn’t meant to kiss Sabrina, but the image of her celebrating Easter with her daughters, dyeing and hiding eggs, filled him with a yearning he’d never experienced before. She’d looked so happy and relaxed, and he couldn’t resist tasting her joy.
The rattling furnace and her
“I assure you, Lady Foxglove, on my honor, I have given them no more incentive than spending the day preparing for Beltane.”
“Humph.” She suspected his motives for such pre paration were far from noble. What better way to get her to do the rituals than have her children cajole her? But she found herself happy for his help and his “parental” manipulation. It was nice to have someone else harangue the kids. Don’t get used to it.
“What preparations do you usually make?” Darius sipped his tea as if they’d shared breakfast hundreds of times.
Sabrina rubbed her head and tried to think. “Give me a moment. My head still hurts.”
“How much?”
“Sorry?”
“How much does it hurt?” He set down his mug and stood, reaching for her head.
“More of a dull ache than anything. Oohhhh…”
The moment he touched her, com fort and heat permeated her skull and soothed the pain. She hadn’t realized how much it hurt until he relieved it. She relaxed her shoulders and leaned into his warm hands, grateful the pain had stopped.
At last he stood back and tipped her chin up. Sabrina reluctantly opened her eyes.
“Better?”
“Yes, thank you.”
Darius smiled the same sincere smile she’d seen the day before. “You are welcome.”
Damn, she wanted to fall into those eyes, let him tell her everything would be all right and believe him. Why can’t life be so easy? But she knew better. She’d be alone again in a few days.
Sabrina jerked her attention back to the subject at hand. “Okay, what I usually do is make sure there’s enough firewood for the fire, attach the ribbons to the May Pole, and make two dozen Deviled Eggs.”
“ Eggs seem like an odd feast item for a fertility ritual of the Goddess.”
“Maybe, but they taste so good and we have to do something with all those eggs from Easter.”
Darius raised his eyebrow. “You celebrate Easter?”
“Yes, at least dyeing the eggs and hiding them for the girls. And we have baskets full of goodies to enjoy.”
“Oh? What’s in your basket, Sabrina?”
The way he said her name sent fire into inappropriate places. Her pussy tingled and her heartbeat sped up. What is wrong with me? All he did was say my name.
She cleared her throat and sucked down her tea to buy some time. “I prefer chocolate and essential oils, but sometimes all I get are jellybean eggs.”
He leaned toward her, his gaze smoldering, and some part of her wondered how the morning had gone from comfortable to sexy. “I’d be happy pack your basket with chocolate and essential oils, Sabrina . I find it very endearing you choose to celebrate all the holidays.” His gaze dropped to her lips and her pussy clenched.
Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me.
Darius tilted his head and reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. A small smile curled his lips as he cupped her cheek with his hand and drew her to him.
Darius brushed his lips against hers and her arousal hit the ceiling. He tasted of crisp autumn mornings , her favorite time of year, and she wanted to fall into his sweet flavor. She would have kept kissing if she hadn’t heard the furnace rattle and the girls loudly discussing who would put which wreath where. Reality intruded and Sabrina jerked back, her face hot.
Darius wore a similar dazed expression and they stared at each other for a few moments, trying to recollect their thoughts.
What’s wrong with me? He’s a seductive player, a gigolo, and all he wants from me is to do the rituals. None of this is real.
“What are you doing?”
****
What am I doing?
Darius hadn’t meant to kiss Sabrina, but the image of her celebrating Easter with her daughters, dyeing and hiding eggs, filled him with a yearning he’d never experienced before. She’d looked so happy and relaxed, and he couldn’t resist tasting her joy.
The rattling furnace and her
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