Page 35 of Shadows of Stardust

Despite the soft smile turning up the corners of her lips, she can’t quite pull offbesottedentirely.

There are still flames kindling deep in that emerald gaze, and I can only hope the cameras are too far away to pick it up, or production mistakes it for a different kind of fire if they do.

But there’s nothing much I can do about it as I finish putting her boot on and rise from where I kneel before her. I brush a kiss over the inside of her knee as I do, lips pressed to the utilitarian fabric of her pants, and she sucks in a sharp breath.

Interesting.

Perhaps it’s taboo, kissing anywhere other than on the mouth. The literature I studied suggested there were other uses for lips and tongues and teeth in expressions of human pleasure, but perhaps that’s not something Roslyn enjoys.

Or, much more likely, perhaps it’s me she finds off-putting.

But we’ve still got eyes on us, and Roslyn must realize how imperative it is we keep up the ruse, because she doesn’t pull away.

Not even when I brush one last brief kiss against her lips, inhaling her gasp of surprise.

Not even when I take her hand in mine, twining our fingers together and giving them a gentle squeeze—a silent reminder as we follow the crew through the jungle and to our fate.

10

Zandrel

Marva’s office is a definite step up from Brivik’s.

Comfortably furnished, with a wide wooden desk, dark carpeting and walls, dim lighting, and a pleasant floral aroma from the vase full of fresh blooms on the sideboard.

Roslyn and I have been left alone to wait, sitting side by side in a pair of chairs before the desk.

The silence in the room is deafening.

Roslyn hasn’t said a single word in the last fifteen minutes, despite my brief attempts at whispered conversation right when they left us here. Arms crossed over her chest, stony gaze fixed at the far wall, she’s doing an admirable job of pretending I don’t exist.

Perhaps I should give it up now.

If she’s going to be this obstinate after what I just did to save her back there, perhaps I’d be better served by coming clean as soon as Marva steps through that door.

Only… what would that mean for me?

I’ve got no answer.

No way to explain away my behavior.

No clever solution to excuse lying to the crew, no way to provide any suitable reason for what I did.

Biting back a frustrated growl over my own idiocy, I try again.

“We need to decide how we’re going to play this,” I say under my breath, and Roslyn doesn’t react in the slightest. “They’re likely going to want to know more about how all of this—”

Outside the office door, the low clip of muffled voices interrupts that thought, though it’s hard to make out more than the tenor of the conversation.

The first voice is Marva, and the irritation in her tone is clear enough.

The second is deeper, quieter, smoother, and it’s not until the door opens that I realize who it is.

“Forgive us,” Geeno says magnanimously, sweeping into the room and taking a seat behind the desk. “We apologize for keeping you waiting.”

It strikes me immediately as… off.

His tone. His words. That he’s treating us like we’re some sort of special guests rather than a contestant and a guard who have already done enough to be booted off the show entirely.

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