Page 16

Aurora remained flustered and flushed for the rest of the day. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment long after Rhaego had repeatedly assured her that he understood it had been an accident. Regardless, she felt like a wretch.

On the way back to the den they’d discussed tomorrow’s luncheon. It had been an invaluable distraction for a little while. But their conversation had stalled when the steps became too steep to traverse without complete focus. After the third time she’d stumbled, losing half the seeds she’d insisted on carrying in the process, he’d asked once again to carry her. She’d declined…again. But conceded that it would be better if he’d carried the basket the rest of the way.

He'd seemed upset by it all, which had made stupid emotion rise in her chest. She’d wanted to do it all herself to make things easier on him, but it felt like she was only making his life harder. Was she just being stubborn at this point? Was he annoyed by her?

When they’d returned to the den, Rhaego had served her a light lunch and described every ingredient without waiting for her to ask. His thoughtfulness only made her feel worse.

When he’d explained he had a secure call scheduled and asked if she minded being left on her own, she’d silently breathed a sigh of relief. Unfortunately, even with him out of the room, she couldn’t stop replaying the day and hyper-focusing on every instance in which she’d annoyed him with her nonsense.

In an attempt to stop her brain from circling the topic, she dug through every crevice of the kitchen. Perhaps if she could find enough familiar ingredients, she could experiment with cooking and make something for Rhaego to apologize.

Every ingredient, cooking tool, and indiscernible alien object in the space was pulled from its storage spot and placed on the large counter for inspection. She began with the frozen items, then the refrigerated ones, taking mental note of what each thing reminded her of, what it smelled like, and what her intuition told her it could be used for.

Some items were silent. A hunk of yellow…something…that had a mildly sweet smell stumped her. She’d need to ask Rhaego to explain what it was and how it was used before deciding whether she wanted to try it in a concoction. But not today.

Today she would keep all her questions to herself. She refused to bother the poor man anymore. Keeping a select few leafy herbs out, she replaced the rest of the fresh ingredients in the strange cubbies stashed around the room and moved on to examining the dry ones.

Beautiful metal and glass canisters with bulbous bottoms and cylindrical middles held the spices. She eyed and sniffed and pinched until the scents ran together in her mind. The last canister, which was a metallic green, unlike the other lapis ones, contained a pretty black herb. She lifted the canister to eye level so she could squint at the odd spice through the glass window. It looked fibrous and soft, like unraveled threads of velvet.

Her mind conjured images of black pepper and licorice, but neither felt right. When she tugged at the lid, it was sealed tight. Setting the canister on the counter, she wrapped a palm around the bottom to keep the jar stable and strained to lift the lid with her other hand. After a few seconds of heaving, the lid came free with a soft, suctioning pop.

Aurora grinned, lifted her prize, and inhaled.

A chemical fire erupted in her throat. The canister toppled onto the ground as she doubled over coughing and wheezing, tears streaming down her face. Aurora clutched at the counter, trying to recall past the sizzling in her sinuses and lungs where the faucet was, but it was impossible to think.

Was there even a faucet? She couldn’t remember seeing one.

Suddenly, strong arms wrapped around her, and she was hoisted into the air. Despite the panic gripping her chest, mortification flared like a useless instinct and she tried to cough out, “I’m fine.” There wasn’t a discernable word to be found in the garbled mess that came out of her mouth.

A burst of chilled wind hit her face. She sucked it in through hacking coughs. Rather than soothe, the cold air felt like dry ice being poured into her throat. Icy Hot slathered on a burn. Her senses were so shocked, she couldn’t form thoughts for a moment.

And then…she was underwater. The stream?

She inhaled water and choked. If the air was cold, the water was freezing. Her teeth chattered and her muscles hardened to stone. Once her brain finally registered something other than the deluge, she perceived Rhaego and more importantly, his radiating heat.

Aurora burrowed into that warmth and shuddered when he wrapped his heating blanket of an arm around her and hauled her back against his chest. He used his grip to pull them both farther into the water until she was submerged to her chin.

“Open your mouth, little doe.” His rumbling voice traveled through her bones and calmed her rattling teeth. She opened. The edge of his cupped hand met her bottom lip, and he poured water into her mouth. It was warmer than the frigid stream. From his hot palm, she distantly realized.

She swallowed the water, and the gentle warmth of it immediately soothed her throat. He didn’t have to ask her to open the next time he held his hand to her lips.

After four swallows, the burn finally ebbed. Instead of drinking again when he offered, she held his cupped hand to keep it in place and lowered her face, dipping her eyes into the tepid water to flush them out.

“Does it still hurt?” he demanded. His tone was firm in the authoritative way of someone asking a question of vital importance.

The effects of that devil herb were gone, but now humiliation made Aurora’s skin blaze.

Before she could answer he turned her around. She fought back, swiping her hands over her face in case her nose had dribbled all over the place. But there was no fighting against his grip.

Miserably, she faced him, hoping she didn’t look as disgusting as she felt. What made it all even more awful was that her rescuer looked like he should be on a Hell’s Hottest Demons calendar. Hair wet and dripping around his shoulders, pale blue shirt nearly translucent and clinging to his chest, and eyes burning red with emotion.

Rhaego’s face was a mess of concern and concentration as he stooped, bending his neck to examine her. One of his palms cupped her cheek, and with the pad of his thumb, he pulled down her lower lid to inspect her eye. They were probably sooo, sooo bloodshot.

“You only smelled the glothem , correct?” He pressed his palm against her cheek more firmly, his brows furrowing. “Your skin is hot. Did you consume it?”

Mortification swelled in her throat. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

“What’s the matter?”

She hiccupped. The small sound burned her raw throat and sent her over the edge. But what burst out of her mouth was not the sob she expected. It was laughter.

He blinked.

She laughed harder. She couldn’t stop. “I’m so em-em-embarrassed.”

Rhaego stood a little taller and cupped her cheeks in both palms now, tipping her face up toward him. It looked like he was trying to decide whether her reaction was normal or evidence of delirium.

“I groped you earlier,” she tried to explain, “and then I poisoned myself. You finally got a minute of peace alone, and now…” Aurora gestured helplessly to his drenched clothing. “I mean—” She was cut off by another fit of laughter. “It’s so ridiculous it’s circled back around to funny.”

“You have nothing to be embarrassed about.” He forced her face to remain aimed at him when she attempted to look away. She sensed the deranged laughter was wearing off and tears were about to take its place.

She squeaked when he scooped her into his arms again and exited the stream in one giant step. In a few strides he was through the open kitchen door. He didn’t bother to close it, continuing toward the stairs.

“I can walk now. You don’t have to carry me. Go back and do whatever it was you were doing. I’m fine—I promise.”

His steps stilled. He didn’t set her down, but his jaw clenched and his chest expanded as though he were struggling with something. Violently aware of the great big puddle her sopping clothing was leaving on the ground, she was a second away from assuring him that she’d come back and mop it up after she dried off, when his firm gaze met hers and her words caught in her throat.

He’d never looked at her like this. So…sternly. “You will let me tend to you, female.”

The dripping of water on a once spotless floor punctuated his words. Her heart raced.

Aurora shook her head despite her insides squealing to learn in what ways this handsome demon might tend to her.

His mouth turned down and a small growl pulsed from his chest. Her shaking head grinded to a halt.

“You’ve done a poor job caring for yourself, so now I will see to it. And you …Will. Not. Argue,” he intoned when her lips parted to argue.

Her mouth snapped shut. She chewed on her lip.

“I need you functioning at your best tomorrow,” he urged while striding forward once more.

The little pride she had left shriveled at that. He was right.

She was sore, her face and throat stung like she’d been pepper-sprayed, and above all she was still miserably exhausted. Her brain hadn’t been quick enough to keep her from nearly climbing onto a stranger to see a butterfly or taking a whiff of an alien herb. Now that she’d been doused in ice water, she finally connected the clues she’d missed before.

The canister had been placed on a very high shelf away from the rest of the herbs, was a different-colored container, and was stoppered up so tightly she’d nearly torn a muscle in her shoulder trying to open it. Idiot.

If her mind remained as foggy tomorrow as it had been today, she might as well walk into the luncheon wearing a big neon Don’t Be Suspicious sign.

And poor Rhaego. His whole day had been interrupted by her shenanigans. He’d probably only taken her to the forest because he’d known she’d get lost or injured if she went alone. He couldn’t even get a few hours to himself without a catastrophe happening.

Overwhelmed tears built behind Aurora’s eyes. But she held them back. He didn’t deserve to have to console her on top of everything else. Sucking up her emotions, she nodded and quietly agreed, “Okay.”

A smile bloomed across his face, soothing some of her insecurity. “Good, little doe,” he rumbled as he began walking again.

Her mind locked on the name, heat coursing through her. It sounded so…she didn’t know what. Salacious, maybe. But she was probably just reading into it. The name was likely a throwaway term they used in Tuva, like how her southern coworker, James, had called absolutely everyone darlin’ . Mostly because he couldn’t remember names to save his life.

“May I enter your room?” Rhaego asked, peering down at her when they got to her door.

Fluttering picked up in her belly. She silently nodded.

Once in the room, he headed straight for the bathing chamber and set her on her feet next to the tub. He didn’t immediately leave, and for a moment she wondered whether he was going to watch her get into the bath. A heated thrill raced up her thighs.

He stepped toward a tapestry of four beautiful horned women lounging in a forest. As though it was obvious, he gripped the edge of the tapestry and swung the whole piece aside, revealing shelves filled with all sorts of things.

Aurora’s mouth dropped open. “There’s a cabinet there?”

Rhaego gathered a collection of bottles from the cabinet’s depths while shaking his head in annoyance. “Phirdo,” he growled under his breath.

As helpful as a sopping-wet mannequin, she stood by while he made short work of uncorking the bottles and pouring in predetermined amounts of slick liquid into the steaming water until a comforting aroma of cherries and almonds wafted through the room.

He set three more bottles on the ledge of the bath. “Use this one for your hair. This one for your skin. And this one after you get out, especially on any sore muscles,” he instructed, pointing to each bottle in turn.

Aurora nodded obediently. “Okay.”

He stalked over to her and hunched slightly to put his eyeline more level with hers, then pointed out the large window. Heat wafted off him, leaching into the damp, cold dress that clung to her skin. She tingled from the tips of her ears to her toes.

“I want you to stay in the tub until the sun touches those mountains. Don’t rush. Your muscles need the heat.” Straightening, he glanced down at her. “When you’re done, come find me in the sitting room.”

A petulant reluctance rose in her, but she smothered it. She could have done this herself. She was ashamed that he’d felt compelled to intervene. But on the other hand, a soak did sound good. And whatever he’d dumped into the bath smelled heavenly. Halfheartedly, she nodded again.

Stare fixed, he watched her as if he could see the conflict playing across her features. “Unwind,” he urged. “It looks as though even your brain is riddled with knots.”

Aurora tried to keep Rhaego’s words in mind after he left, but as she set to the impossible task of peeling tight wet fabric off her skin, she only found herself getting more and more wound . The minor inconvenience sent her into an irrational tizzy.

When she was finally naked, she sank into the bath and breathed deeply, trying to shake off her lingering temper. Her eyes slid shut, her head falling back against the ledge of the bath. Slowly, her stress began to melt, and her brows lifted, impressed.

Whatever combination Rhaego had poured into the tub was working its magic. The sweet nutty scent flowed into her lungs and called to mind sun-ripened cherries enjoyed on balmy summer nights.

In third grade, Aurora had hosted a sleepover for her two best friends—her two only friends. Before her nan would let them watch the movie they’d rented, she’d herded them to a picnic blanket outside and forced them to help her pit a bushel of cherries.

At first all three girls had griped and groaned about the chore, but after a while they’d forgotten to be upset. Aurora could no longer recall the names of her two friends or what movie they’d so badly wanted to watch, but she could feel how sore her ribs had gotten from laughing as they’d used the dark fruit to draw on lipstick and blush. She could taste the bitterness in the lemonade that her nan had served. They’d needed to chase every sip with a mouthful of sweet cherries just to finish it.

Her nan had sat on the porch, watching and grinning as though she’d known she was implanting a memory into Aurora that would live inside her forever. Tears leaked out of the corners of her eyes, slipping into her hairline. God, did she miss that woman.

After a few more minutes of bittersweet reminiscence, she lifted out of the tub and wrapped herself in a towel. The prospect of picking out another outfit that wasn’t sweatpants and a moth-eaten T-shirt made her groan, but she trudged toward the closet anyway.

A cloud of vapor followed her into the bedroom, and she almost missed the simple dress draped across her mattress. She bit her lip, a smile pulling her cheeks tight, and inched toward the bed. The dress sat next to a steaming mug of something. Rhaego must have left it for her.

Her limbs turned a little gelatinous at that, her heart doing flip-flops as she sipped the delicious drink, an oddly satisfying cross between tea and…hot lemonade.

She still felt guilty that Rhaego was going to all this trouble, but here alone in her room, just for tonight, with no one around to judge her, Aurora silently admitted she liked being looked after by him.

A lot.