Page 100 of Dare

I whirled toward him. “I love it.”

His mouth slanted in pleasure. For such a ruthless man, this prince had been bred with courtly manners. He took the bottle of oil he’d made for me and set it on a bed of grass, then offered me a chair, where a lightweight blanket rested over the back.

The meal included salted trout, which he must have grilled from our stash, along with citrus and figs like the one we’d eaten after washing up here, and nectar that smelled of crushed grapes.

I gave Jeryn an impressed look. “You cooked.”

“I’ve watched you,” he confessed, lowering himself to the opposite seat and draping a hand over the chalice’s stem. “Though, I cannot say it will taste as good.”

The point was, he’d tried. I bit into the fish, the sea’s essence and a tangy flavor melting on my tongue. A moan dripped from my mouth, and juices from the fish leaked down my chin.

I swabbed my tongue across my lips to collect the residue. In unison, a finger stole out. We paused, our gazes fusing. Jeryn had leaned over to wipe the juice from my chin, the contact electrifying me from head to toe. The prince’s pupils darkened, his stare opening me wider beneath the skirt, the hard press of my chair clashing with the gentle motions of the starry sea.

As if drugged, we edged back to our seats. Despite that one perilous moment, the conversation flowed like water. Hours could have passed without us noticing, the subjects ranging from tasks that needed attention at the ruins to memories of our kingdoms and tidbits about our families.

Temptation drew my gaze to the water. “It looks as if the celestials plummeted from the sky.”

“I’m certain you’ll find out the moment you dive in,” Jeryn predicted while lounging like a merman.

That he read into my words and expressions used to threaten me. Now it only sent pleasant shivers across my skin.

The balmy night air, decadent food, and enchanted bay transported us to an easy place. Jeryn’s features relaxed, and I nestled into the chair, the mood animated. As time passed, my tongue loosened, and I realized something.

This was more than nice. It was fun.

Swallowing his last helping of the fish, Jeryn hummed in appreciation, the masculine sound stirring my knees like broth. “It is not gravy or stew,” he granted. “Yet I can’t complain.”

Prompted, I reminisced about treats from the mainland that I missed. “Sea bass.”

Catching on, Jeryn tilted his head. “Roasted game.”

“Passionfruit.”

“Cranberries.”

Then our gazes locked. At the same time, we groaned, “Pastries.”

And those groans melted into chuckles. Creases formed on either side of Jeryn’s mouth, his grin leisurely.

Which people had been privy to this side of him? I doubted many, yet instead of feeling victorious, envy prickled my scalp. This Royal must have been surrounded by men and women, admirers who’d wanted more than his approval.

I sobered for one reason, while Jeryn sobered for another. “When was the last time you tasted one?” he said in a low, guilty tone.

One what? A pastry?

The stars grew sharper while floating atop the sea. A chilling breeze sailed through the foliage curtain and made the candle wick tremble. The flower tickled my ear, and my hair hung a bit longer, yet it failed to conceal my collar tattoo.

At the question, I glanced toward the ocean. “Before they took me.”

Poet and Briar had delivered pear tarts to my Autumn cell, but I’d never been able to savor those treats, because I’d been too famished to gobble them slowly. If I ever tasted their actual sweetness, I couldn’t recall. Experiencing such thorough pleasure hadn’t really happened since my imprisonment.

Jeryn’s fist rested on the table between us, his knuckles straining. I glanced from his hand to a set of pupils lit with fury. That, and guilt.

The truth wedged itself between us. Still, it wasn’t too late to close that gap. I’d put off one detail about The Phantom Wild for too long.

I scooted forward. “I need to tell you something.”

Candlelight cast across Jeryn’s face. He stared back without skepticism, encouraging me to forge ahead.

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