Page 102 of Fawn

Chapter Thirty-Three

Fawn

Blue lounges belly-up on the balcony on a special blanket Persa sent for him. Her children adore him. I can’t even feel bad about them stealing time with him when he loves their attention just as much. My mutt has gained popularity since we arrived and can already find his way to the palace kitchens, where the servants coo and feed him.

Gideon is standing attentively beside the couch where I am lying, reading the scandalous book Persa gave me. I am only a third of the way in, and already the patrol leader and his lieutenant have taken turns with the secret doe shifter. She is desperate in the throes of her season, and he has just called two more members of his patrol to help satisfy her needs.

I am getting hot and squirmy reading it. My eyes keep drifting toward Gideon.

The royal guardsman is gallantly formal if occasionally flustered in my presence. He arrived this morning under the direction of Seven’s sister, Estelle, because apparently, I need a personal guard.

Seven rolled his eyes and muttered about his sister’s complete lack of boundaries while the young man stood to attention. Finally, he sighed and waved my new protection in. Gideon has shadowed me ever since, standing attentively close, offering the occasional polite word but mostly doing an excellent job of looking everywhere but me.

Does he like me?

Maybe he would rather be doing something more important, as Seven mentioned when he first found out his sister had commandeered him for her personal use.

He is very handsome. I suck my lower lip between my teeth, admiring his profile over the top of my book. Then again, all stags are attractive, in my opinion. He is of a similar age to me, with eyes that are so pale brown that they are almost gold. His skin is the darkest shade among the stag shifters and shimmers in the light. His hair is very pale by contrast and cropped short to his head, forming a riot of curls.

They look soft and bounce a little when he moves. I very much want to pet them.

He adjusts his collar, and his gaze slides toward me. His eyes darken as he catches me staring at him. “How do you find your book, my lady?”

Book?

I drop the book as his words snap me from my stupor. It tumbles off the couch and hits the floor with a thud.

Blue lifts his head and rolls over, wondering if this is a game.

“Allow me!” Gideon strides over before I can gather my wits and collects the book from the floor.

The fake dust jacket I slipped over onThe Art of Flower Arranginghas fallen off. Blue darts in, snatches it, and runs off with his prize.

“Blue!”

The book is in Gideon’s hand.

My damn mutt is running circles around the couch with the dust jacket in his mouth.

Gideon stares at the book, frowning. I can see the cogs turning as he reads.

“Blue!” I need to get the fake dust jacket back.

It feels like the world is trapped in slow motion. I’m about to snatch the book from Gideon when Blue shoves the lightly chewed dust jacket onto my lap.

“Fuck!” Gideon mutters under his breath.

Blue’s head swings around, and like he senses the game is over, he slinks off to his blanket bed.

Gideon curses again as he liberates the dust jacket from my nerveless fingers, fumbling to wrap it around the book with haste that suggests he wants to erase what he has seen.

He hands it to me. The dust jacket is bent and bears distinct puncture wounds.

I take it, blushing to the roots of my hair.

He straightens and, still staring at the book, adjusts his cock in his pants…wrestlesit… my eyes nearly pop out of my head when I note the girthy nature of the beast he tries to cram into the leg of his pants.

Then he strides back to the end of the couch and stands to attention with his back to me.

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