Page 19 of Bound
My eyes raise. “Pardon?”
“Not Captain. Just Gage.”
The silence is deafening but for the erratic beat of my heart. I lick suddenly dry lips as I gaze into his emerald irises. “Then, Gage,” I breathe, “I am Amoret.”
Something like fire rolls through his eyes until I swear the temperature in the air grows stifling. He extends his arm. Trembling at the very notion of being able to touch him again, I lay my hand in the crook of his elbow.
He leads me through the main room to the empty conference area. The space seems large without the others to fill it. But Gage’s presence more than chases away the loneliness threatening to swallow me whole.
His touch is decorous as he urges me to a chair near the sun-filled windows. Perhaps he believes it is where I prefer to be. I sit, smoothing the skirts of the gown I had hastily donned while he called his team. The fabric seems too thick today. Too abrasive.
After pushing my chair in, he settles into the spot across from me. Sila and Wena bring in twin trays of food that they set before us both. A carafe of coffee is placed before Gage, and Wena tucks a glass pitcher of juice between us.
“If you need anything else,” Wena says gently, “we are right outside.”
Gage glances at her. “Make sure the four of you eat as well,” he tells her.
A faint flush of color stains her tan cheeks, but she gives a deep incline of her head and backs out, closing the door behind her.
For a moment, surprise filters through me.
I have never been alone with a man. Not even at the Sith. Women of my station, unless wed, are always chaperoned.
My fingers dig into my skirts.
What is Wena playing at?
Gage pours a mug of coffee, the carafe and cup seeming like a toy in his grasp. “Do you take coffee, Amoret?”
His question startles me, and I look at him. “Coffee? No,” I stammer. “I have never had a taste for the brew.”
He takes a large swallow of the steaming liquid, and the line of his throat works. But he does not exclaim or blow on the dark, aromatic blend to cool it.
“Isn’t that hot?” I ask.
His chin lowers, and he meets my gaze. “Not to me.” But the fire in his gaze seems brighter. Hotter.
Flushed, I lower my eyes to my tray.
The fare is not as fresh as in the Sith. But Sila could make a feast from nothing. Odd though, that I have no appetite. The food, though colorful and wafting delicious scents, seems to turn my stomach.
A small piece of cantaloupe appears on a silver fork. “Eat, Amoret.” The command is gruff. A wolfish ferocity resides in him now under the stoic Fae male facade.
I glance from the morsel to Gage’s resolved expression. “I—”
The juicy bite rubs over my bottom lip in a sensual glide. Sweet flavor coats my senses, sparking a hunger that goes much deeper than mere sustenance. My lips part in surprise.
“Eat,” he says again. If possible, the rumble of his voice seems harsher. Wilder.
I open my lips and take the bite between my teeth. His focus is heady as I roll it back onto my tongue, amazed at how vibrant the flavor now seems.
He continues to watch me as I chew and swallow. Before I ever finish, he has another bite ready to go.
“I am capable of feeding myself,” I say breathlessly.
“It costs me nothing to make sure your strength does not wane, Amoret.” He extends the fork closer. “Eat.”
There is no arguing with him. I can see it on his face. Hear it in his voice.
