Page 93 of The Little Shop of Grand Curiosities

He gave me the barest incline of his head, a curl of a smile. “You’re glowing again, darling.”

I didn’t have to look down at my body to confirm it. Silver light landed shadows on the hollows of his face. “I’m excited,” I admitted. “It will be an adventure.”

“You’ll teach me about curiosities,” he said.

“You’ll teach me how to fight,” I added.

“Sounds like a good plan, Little Butterfly.”

“But we’ll have to fix and sell the Shop first. It needs to go to a good family. People who will love and appreciate it.”

He fitted his hands on my waist as he raised his hips, just enough to make me fall forward into his arms. My breasts grazed his chest, and even that simple skin-on-skin sensation made my body grow heavy with need again. “Anything you want,” he said before threading his tongue between my lips.

I could already feel his hardness between my thighs, the tip grinding against that perfect spot. I moved my pelvis circularly to intensify the friction, and Apollo shut his eyes, groaning, “You’ll be the end of me, Nepheli.”

And just as he was about to slip inside me and release us both from this torment, the most unbecoming growl came from my stomach.

Apollo stopped moving and burst into laughter. “What do you say we get dressed and down to the kitchen? There must be enough leftover food from the ball to satiate whatever’s growling in there.” His hands drifted downward and squeezed my backside. “And then we’ll come back to satiate other parts of your body.”

Suddenly, I was ravenous indeed.

???

The Palace was eerily quiet. Dawn crept in through the paneled windows of the corridor, and the soft light made everything look purple and lush, almost haunted. Every hour of the day was so distinctly colorful here that I still had trouble believing I wasn’t only experiencing this place through some wild fever dream of mine.

“Come here,” Apollo rasped as he caught my waist and maneuvered me around until my back was pressed up against the wall.

“Apollo, someone will see,” I halfheartedly complained.

“Good,” he said, his voice deliciously rough. “They should know you’re mine.”

For a little while, we kissed under the periwinkle glaze of the corridor until the only thought left in my head was that, for the first time in my life, I wasn’t just comfortable and content. I was a thousand-pink-butterflies-in-my-stomach happy.

A sudden, loudthump,followed by a muffled curse, disturbed the velvet silence and we pulled apart at once. Apollo, on sheer instinct, flung his body before me. But it was only Isa at the end of the long, dreamy corridor, struggling to open the door of what I presumed was her bedchamber. “Why did I have to lock it, damn it?” she was muttering to herself as she unsteadily twisted the gilded knob.

“Isa!” Apollo called, on the verge of laughter.

Isa started with a squeal. Her face was flushed, and her gaze was disconcertingly bleary. “Oh, hello. How strange. I was actually looking for you,” she mumbled, each of her vowels outstretched from insobriety. “I wanted a chance to talk to you two. I feel absolutely terrible about the way I behaved at the manor.”

“Isa,” Apollo cut in, his head cocked to the side in part amusement and part incredulity. “Are you just returning from the ball?”

The redness in her cheeks deepened. “Maybe,” she said with a little hiccup.

Apollo chuckled under his breath as we rushed to her side. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drunk.”

Isa teetered in her heeled shoes, and I caught her around the waist to steady her while Apollo worked to unjam the door, twisting the gilded knob left and right. “I’m surprised there aren’t any guards here to help you,” he grunted, shoving the door with the side of his shoulder until the hinges finally gave in with a disapproving screech.

“They’re probably on a break. And I’m not drunk,” Isa grumbled, holding on to me for dear life. “Eloise’s fruit punch was just extrafruitytonight.”

A giggle rolled out of me as I fastened my arms around her waist.

“Okay,” Apollo drawled. “Let’s just put you to bed.”

The room, lush and enormous, was already lit by tall, lavender-hued candles. Curiously enough, the decorative scheme held nothing of Isa’s taste—at least not from what I’d seen in the manor, which had been full of quaint pieces, exuberant tapestries, and a plethora of curiosities. Apart from the rich wallpaper boasting swirls of thorny vines in deep shades of purple, the space was elegant and understated, with only the necessary furniture in dark mahogany.

I helped her to the four-poster bed while Apollo went to the little built-in bar across the room to fill a glass of water for her.

“This room was my mother’s, you know,” I heard her murmuring, sitting upright with her eyes already closed. “It still bears her magic. It’s embedded in the walls. I can do almost anything in here.”

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