Page 133 of A Tribute of Fire

I shouldn’t eat it. Accepting his food was like making an agreement with him. But I was really hungry. All that fighting had taken it out of me.

Glancing at him, I saw that heated, wanting look in his gaze that made my abdomen clench. I was glad we were walking. If I had beenseated across from him, unable to escape his expression, I wasn’t sure what I might have done.

And I should not be provoking fate now, but it was like I couldn’t help myself. “Why did you say that you liked that I was always hungry?”

His voice was low, sensual. “Because a woman who has an appetite for one thing often has a healthy appetite for others.”

Suddenly I couldn’t swallow the pasteli down. The rich honey seemed to melt onto my tongue and I wished it were him instead. I gulped, letting the honey leave a sweet trail along the inside of my throat. “Like what?” I whispered, already knowing but wanting him to say it.

“Like the physicality that exists between us. How you can’t get your fill of my kisses,” he said in that same hypnotic tone that made me lose all feeling in my legs.

“That’s not true,” I weakly protested.

“It is. I could spend hours kissing you and you would demand more.”

I suspected that he was right, again.

But I would never admit that to him. I focused on eating all the pasteli that he’d given me. It wasn’t something we were fed in the temple and I wanted to enjoy every last bite.

I also had to ignore my body urging me to try savoring Jason instead.

We approached a large building and he sneaked over to a column, hiding behind it. I found myself admiring both his stealth and speed. I finished up the last bit of pasteli and joined him.

He was so close that I could smell him, and he was an intriguing combination of leather, honey, salt, and something else. It might have been my fevered brain, but I would have sworn that I detected the faint scent of irises.

Like the goddess had marked him just for me.

Jason noticed how still I had gone and his expression practically smoldered at me. His gaze shifted to my lips and I parted them, ready for his kiss.

Completely forgetting all of my very recent resolutions to myself.

And not even counting what I’d promised the goddess.

He moved a step closer and I stopped breathing altogether as I swayed toward him. He lifted his hand, as if he intended to cup my face with it. I waited in what felt like agony for him to make contact, but he didn’t.

“There’s the library,” he said, pointing across the street. Back to business. How could he do that? Turn his feelings off and on, as the situation demanded?

I was still lightheaded and standing too close to him. It was probably due to experience—his overabundance of it and my total lack.

Taking a step away from him, I attempted to steady my breathing and remember why I was here. Why was I so weak where he was concerned? I spent most of my time building up my strength. But every bit of it seemed to flee just because he existed.

Letting go of a deep breath, I studied the library. It was massive and impressive. There seemed to be engraved artwork that was probably stunning during daylight hours, but I couldn’t make much of it out. The building was painted in reds and blues, and like the temple, it had a large patio and a grand staircase leading up to the entrance.

There was one thing I couldn’t find. “I thought you said it was heavily guarded.”

“It is.”

“I don’t see any guards.”

He leaned against the column and grinned. “Not any human ones.”

“What do you mean?”

“The library is guarded by geese.”

I’d heard that word before, although I’d never seen one. “That’s a bird, isn’t it?”

“So they claim.”

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