He liked her. Admired her. Found her companionable, surprising, sexy, and thoughtful. But did he honestly put her wants and needs on equal footing with his own?
She was looking for a yes answer to that question. He was still a decided no when his views were run through the filter of that criterion.
“Have you been in love?” he asked. He strongly suspected the answer to that question was no, but there was always a chance that there’d been some connection, some puppy-eyed thing, with a local elf.
“No’ to speak of.” Shivaun’s mood seemed to have shifted suddenly.
“Odd answer.” She shrugged. “That’s all I’m gonna get?”
“Which swan is your favorite?” she asked, openly dodging the question.
Lyric chuckled. “Okay. Message received.”
He made an effort to let that go, but was bothered. He didn’t know how or why, but he had the distinct sense that she wasn’t being truthful.
The tray of swan treats replenished itself. Every time the demons took some away for the beautiful birds, more appeared. But they’d lingered at the edge of the water feeding swans until the swans were getting full and losing interest.
Lyric tossed the tray up in the air and it disappeared. Smiling at Shivaun, he said, “We don’t want to make them fat.” When she smiled in return, he was relieved to see her good humor restored. “Would you like me to play for you?”
“Play what?”
“Music.”
“Oh,” she laughed. “O’course. Will you sing me a song?”
He shook his head. “No. That I won’t do. At least not now. Maybe someday.”
Lyric climbed to the top of the steps, sat on the divan that originated in Shivaun’s mind, and pulled an acoustic guitar out of the air. He began strumming a series of arpeggios.
She sat next to him and said, “Seems familiar.”
“’House of the Rising Sun’. At least a recent version. It’s an old, old song. The tune dates back to the 1500s.”
“Probably seems like yesterday to you.” She teased.
He grinned and shook his head as he continued to play. “You’re joking, but it doesn’t seemthatlong ago.”
“Sounds sad. Even without words.”
A ghost of a smile appeared on his face when he said, “And I guess that’s why they call it the blues.”
“Tell me why you’re playin’ a sad thing.”
Lyric continued playing, but looked out at the water. “If you don’t know… I’m sitting here feeling half strangled with fear, wondering if this is the minute you’re going to tell me you’re not seeing more of me. Or will it be a minute from now? Or an hour from now?”
Shivaun had barely been holding together her determination to make love to Lyric without admitting loveforhim. But his admission of dread crushed her resolve and collapsed the fragile barriers she’d erected around her heart. Either he had some kind of feelings for her or he was doing a bloody good job of mimicry.
Being the direct personality that she was, she decided to go at what she wanted to know straight on. Win. Win. She could be herself and exercise the phenomenal ability to read truth at the same time.
“That sounds like you have feelin’s for me.” He continued playing with staring directly at her, but didn’t say a word. So, she tried an even more direct approach. “Do you have feelin’s for me?”
He set the guitar aside, leaning it securely against the curve of the divan’s arm. “I feel things. Yes. Things that have to do with you.”
She waved her hand in a circle. “I’m goin’ to need more.”
“To what end, Shivaun? If I describe what I feel, will it change your mind?”
As a demon, Lyric had the cunning to go straight to the very core, the heart, of a question. While considering, she fidgeted. First with her fingers. Next with the hem of her sleeve.