Page 31 of Reluctant Wizard

“Not to live with,” she retorted, but had to swallow a smile.

“Well, now, that’s another conversation entirely. And it’s early days to consider such a big step.” He grinned when she scowled, annoyed at how he’d twisted her words, and returned with a steaming, fragrant kolache on a plate.

“Kolaches, again?” she mock-complained.

“You know you want one.” He waved the plate under her nose. “Don’t be stubborn.”

“There’s the pot calling the kettle black.”

“Don’t be stubborn for the wrong reasons then.”

She took the plate. “I did eat dinner, as even you acknowledged.”

“Yes, but that was coming up on ten hours ago. It’s been a long night. And Healer Jonathan specifically said you needed nourishment after that healing session.”

Unable to muster an argument, she took the plate and bit into the succulent roll. It tasted even better than it smelled, the fluffy pastry melting in her mouth like buttered sunshine, the spicy sausage within a perfect flavor match, somehow more nourishing than anything she could remember eating in forever. Before she knew it, she’d gobbled down the whole thing, dabbing up the crumbs with a fingertip so as not to miss a morsel.

“It was really good,” she said belatedly, looking up to find Cillian watching her with an odd expression on his face.

“I’ll get you another,” he said, his voice slightly hoarse, taking the empty plate from her. “Drink the rest of your tea first.”

Obediently, she took up the mug, now cooled enough to be pleasantly warm to wrap her fingers around, and drank, watching Cillian move with efficient grace around his little kitchen. It was oddly intimate, even homey, being in his golden-lit rooms in the small hours of the morning, with most of Convocation Academy asleep. Almost as if they were the only people in the world. Which makes her the center of his entire universe. That’s powerful. Blushing for no good reason, Alise drank down the rest of the tea, ready when Cillian brought a second kolache and resumed his same seat on the table.

“You don’t need to watch me. I will eat it.”

“Oh, I know you will,” he replied lightly. “I’ve seduced you now. It’s simply a pleasure to watch you eat.”

She nearly choked on a bite and had to take her time chewing.

“You don’t allow yourself much pleasure, do you?” Cillian asked, then held up a hand. “A redundant question. You would no doubt argue, but I have observed the truth for myself.”

“There hasn’t been a lot of room in my life for frivolity lately,” she answered anyway.

“Interesting, that you consider simple pleasure frivolous, but we can debate that another time. What I want to know is what Healer Jonathan meant by telling you that whatever Gordon Hanneil suggested to you wasn’t your shame.”

Here it was. She couldn’t meet his gently inquiring gaze, grateful that she’d finished the kolache and couldn’t choke on it. “I don’t know either. Did he say that?”

“Alise.” There was a world of reproach in the one word.

She clutched the plate in desperate grip. “I’m exhausted and need to sleep.”

Cillian gave her such a long look that she thought he might refuse, but he released a weary breath and stood, easing the plate from her death grip. “Very well. I wish that you trusted me though.”

“I trust you,” she ground out.

“Then tell me. Let me be a friend.”

“You’ll be angry if you know.”

Cillian regarded her mildly. “Oh, Alise. I realize you’re in your head a great deal, but surely you can’t be that obtuse.” He gazed down at the plate in his hands, then abruptly hurled it against the wall where it shattered dramatically. Cillian looked from it to her. “I am already angry, darling.”

Cillian gazed back at Alise, who gaped at him in apparent shock. Not that he blamed her. Had he ever done anything like that in his life? No. Anyone who knew him would be stunned. He didn’t quite understand it himself—but he also squelched the urge to apologize. It had been his plate to keep or break as he pleased. If he wanted to throw it against the wall, that was his cursed prerogative.

Alise tipped her head and narrowed her sharp, black eyes. “I can’t believe you accuse me of being in my own head. You’re the one who’s always daydreaming.”

“Yes, but at least I am daydreaming about you,” he retorted, still too caught up in the swell of anger to think better of the admission. But then, all along, he’d had a distressing tendency to blurt out his every thought around Alise. And she already knew of his feelings for her, if only because that fucker Gordon had used them against her.

“I apologize for that, Cillian,” she said quietly. “And I’ll accept the charge. I am guilty of being oblivious to all the world.” She let out a long breath and combed her fingers through her short, glossy hair. “I don’t want you angry on my behalf.”

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