Page 53 of Silverproof Damsel

“I didn’t believe that you were pregnant,” he offered in reply.

Nodding, I stayed mute to avoid causing an unnecessary argument. The only response to his admission would’ve been, ‘No shit, Sherlock.’

“I made you some ginger tea, chicken broth, saltine crackers, a few different soups, and other things Talia advised would alleviate nausea.”

The sincerity in his stare made my stomach flip-flop, which had little to do with morning sickness. I needed distance from him before I ended up doing something we’d both regret. I wanted to ask him why he hadn’t believed me, but I didn’t want to revisit that day. It was the worst day of my life.

“That was thoughtful of you. You didn’t need to do that, though.”

“I’m the asshole who knocked you up, Remington. Making you soup to ease the sickness is the least I can do.”

“Admittedly, I don’t know how to respond to kindness well. I’ve little experience with being on the receiving end of it.” Wringing my hands in front of me, I waited for his reply, but his eyes widened, as if he were momentarily caught off guard.

Shuffling his feet, he shoved long, slender fingers through his messy ink-colored hair. I’d never known Rhys to be at a loss for words before. He appeared pensive and maybe even a littleremorseful. He waited for me to speak, causing a blush to paint my cheeks pink.

The pregnant silence slowly suffocated me to the point I ended up blurting out, “I’m sorry I threw up on you!” Mortification shot through me as his lips twitched at my expense, as if he struggled not to laugh at my awkwardness.

My eyes scrunched close to the discomfort I’d created from what had been a tender moment. This was my life now. The gaudy redhead who spewed random shit, then threw up on the man she fantasized over.

A clap of laughter left his lips at my awkward apology. I wanted a sinkhole to open beneath me, devouring me entirely. Heat burned the tips of my ears as it spread down my face, neck, and chest.

“No, you’re not, little liar,” he muttered as his palm slid over his face, as if scrubbing away whatever emotion had gripped him. “If you do, you shouldn’t. I deserve it for not releasing you.” I expected Rhys to leave once he’d said his peace. Instead, he sat down, leaned forward, and then passed me the tea. “Talia said to start with this. She mentioned the essential oils will ease the sickness, but the tea will ensure you suffer no more tonight.”

Whispering thanks, I accepted the tea. A subtle hint of floral mingled with the comforting notes of citrus and warm spices during inhalation. Sipping the mixture, I closed my eyes as it exploded like fireworks over my taste buds. Soothing the ache in my throat from the hour spent heaving, it slid down like silky cream, easing the soreness.

I didn’t need to ask whether magic enhanced it. It tasted sweet and mystical as it moved toward my stomach. The gentle pulse of it drifted throughout my system, easing the nausea altogether. A sultry moan escaped as I felt the magic pulsing through my entire body, as if it had entered my veins and then flowed to every cell in my body.

“That good, then?” Rhys asked, then placed his hand on my thigh. Sparks shot up my leg, each one connecting against my clit. It caused me to jump, spilling tea over the front of the white gown I wore. “Are you okay?” he demanded as he launched off the couch, pulling the front of the gown away from my skin.

“I’m okay,” I yelped, rising to prevent him from ripping the gown. We both stared at the dark spots that were vanishing before our eyes. “Magic tea. Remember? It isn’t meant to harm, meaning it won’t burn me.”

Rhys’ grip on the gown lessened until it released the fabric. Pushing his fingers through his hair, he brought his eyes level with mine. Worry swam in the aquatic depths of his azure gaze. It needled me to assure him that I was fine.

“I’m okay. Promise.” Placing the delicate cup down, I ran my palms down the front of the gown, a soft smile playing over my mouth.

“Good. I take it you enjoyed the tea before you ended up wearing most of it.” This time, he didn’t form it as a question. “You moaned as you took the first sip. A moan I would enjoy you making for me—” My brows lifted in silent question as he paused, then continued. “—Never mind. I need to leave. If you can, try to eat something with at least a little nutrition. I’ve been made aware of your eating habits and that they weren’t the healthiest choices.” Rhys rose to a standing position, rubbing his palms over his upper thighs. “Is there anything you need before I go?” He glanced down at the tray, then brought his pensive stare back up, searching my face as if the answer was written somewhere on it.

“Is there a TV I can watch something on?” I asked, shyness spreading through me as I squirmed beneath his intense scrutiny.

My question caused a grin to tug at his lips. As I watched, he strolled to the bar and retrieved a remote. The momenthe pushed a button, a humming noise started from above our heads. On the far wall, something descended until it revealed a theater size screen.

“What’s your comfort show, little silver?”

“Snapped,” I stated, then smiled as he repeated it into the remote before he offered me some serious side eye on my choice.

“You think that’s a comfort show?” As I pulled my legs up beneath me, I grinned. Chewing my bottom lip, I noted the way his eyes zeroed in on my mouth as he ran his tongue over his lips. “Not that I’m judging your choice in comforting shows.” The smile spreading over his generous mouth told me otherwise.

“Liar,” I admonished, fighting the smile threatening to spread over my mouth. “Some women love the Hallmark channel. Me? I prefer watching documentaries about murder. It’s quite comforting to know that no matter how messy my life is, someone else’s is much messier.” Adjusting on the couch, I pulled the skirt of the dress up, then tucked it beneath my legs. Rhys’ stare lowered to my midriff, as if he were trying to see beyond the material concealing my naked flesh.

“Is there popcorn in the kitchen?”

Rhys chuckled, then muttered. “There are forty-three seasons of people snapping and committing murderous acts?” Snapped was my newest guilty obsession.

“It seems to be something mortals enjoy doing a lot of according to this show.” Waiting for him to reply, I allowed my gaze to slide over his physique. The man had been built by the gods for sinning. Dark lust was threaded throughout his genetics, causing lustful intentions to always heighten in his presence.

I wasn’t winning the fight against my overactive libido. A libido that was currently working overtime. If given the chance, I’d rip off all his clothing, then taste every delicious inch of him until the ravenous hunger that sat heavy in my bones wassatiated. I was so screwed if I couldn’t make the aching throb between my thighs stop pounding.

“What are you thinking about right now?” he asked, causing my eyes to round as I released the hold my teeth held on my bottom lip. My nipples hardened to painful tips that begged to be suckled and tasted. Arousal shot through my core, forcing his nostrils to flare, as if he scented the tormented sexual state of my body. “Remington?”

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