Page 14 of Blood Slumberm

She blinked at him, feeling as if she had wandered into a magical realm inside the manor all over again. “You drew and heated a bath? When?”

“In the last few minutes.” A faint smile appeared on his lips. “Hesperine speed, you know.”

She limped toward the next room, and all the way, she could feel Troi’s gaze on her.

He spoke again, and his respectful tone caused an odd flutter in her stomach. “If you need anything, say my name and I will hear you.”

Then his presence was gone from the room. She hobbled into the dressing room and stared.

Candles flickered softly around an enormous bronze tub. Steam and the perfume of roses drifted from the water. Soap and clean towels were stacked neatly on a stool within easy reach, and there was even a flagon of wine.

She dropped her sweaty clothes on the floor and sank carefully down into the bath. No one ever need know that she lay there in the warm water weeping with relief.

None ofthiswas necessary for their plan, but if it were a game of seduction, he wouldn’t have left her to undress alone.

Why had he done this for her?

The most confounding mystery in this manor was Troi himself.

The aromas of roses and clean, feminine skin drifted into the great hall, and Troi struggled not to flare his nostrils like an animal. It was even more difficult to fend off mental images of water lapping at Celandine’s long legs and bare breasts.

He closed his mouth tightly over his fangs and turned to her. A little too fast—his head spun. Using his magic had taken more out of him than he’d realized.

And it had made him hungry.

Celandine padded in, her hair damp and glistening, wrapped in his velvet robe again. The sight of her in his clothes shouldn’t please him so much. Her gaze went to the place he had set for her on the dais, a fresh feast of delicacies he had found in the kitchen.

She arched a brow at him. “Is that an invitation to sit on your throne, slugabed?”

“Make yourself comfortable, Your Highness.” He held out his hand, making no move to close the distance between them.

She let him help her up the step onto the dais, but vulnerability throbbed in her aura. He had seen her in a moment of weakness, and she still feared he would exploit it.

Troi was many things, but neither as a man nor an immortal had he ever taken advantage of those less powerful than himself.And when a woman had told him to stop, he always had. That much of his mother’s code of honor had somehow become ingrained in him, despite his efforts to become the man his father wanted him to be.

He pulled out the golden chair for Celandine, then settled into the seat beside her. As if he were her suitor at a feast, he filled her flagon and heaped her plate with morsels he thought she would enjoy. “How are my table manners?”

“I cannot fault them. Formal feast traditions have not changed very much.”

“Not all of my renowned skills are rusty.”

She caught his innuendo, judging by the gleam in her eye. “A bold claim from someone whose blood flow has been insufficient for years.”

It was a relief to hear her insulting him again without fear. He leaned closer, holding a plum tart to her lips. “If you take more measurements, you will not fault me there, either.”

“Hmm. It takes a great deal to impress me.”

He didn’t doubt it. At the height of her power, she must have been a merry widow who enjoyed her secret liaisons. The kind of woman who could inspire a Taurus prince to inflame the feud for an affair with a Pavo princess that wouldn’t be forgotten for generations.

Goddess, she must be fire in bed. But fire was a Hesperine’s greatest weakness.

She bit into the plum tart, savoring the bite in her mouth. Her tongue darted out to capture a trickle of dark red filling along her lower lip.

When had watching a woman eat become so erotic? Unbidden, the image came to him of her licking a trail of his blood from her mouth instead.

When had his fantasies become so Hesperine?

He gestured to the corner of his mouth. “You have a dab of jam just there.”

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