Galbrath leaned back to look at me, frowned, and then gently pinched my cheek.
“You know what’s happening later. But,” his voice and his gaze softened. My heart and my pussy spasmed in tandem. “But know that I do intend to teach you. I want to.”
“OK.” It came out as a whisper. “I’ll wait for later, then.”
CHAPTER 16
LUNA
Since I didn’t know exactly when “later” would be, I decided to keep myself busy. I kept coming back to my seaweed suggestion with something that felt like a little trill of hope. But I could tell that, though Galbrath was giving it due thought, he wasn’t excited about it like I was. More like resigned. I wanted to come up with some options that, if not exactly wow him, might at least make him smile.
So, I returned to the beach later that day, gathered up three giant baskets full of seaweed, and got to work.
Neena and Noona couldn’t seem to figure out why I wanted to spend so much time with the slippery ink-green and rust-red stalks, but they dutifully trundled my baskets and me into a spacious but unused kitchen. Apparently, the palace had two, but only one was used by the cooking staff on a regular basis. I was shown into the spare one where I wouldn’t be in the staff’s way.
Which turned out to be a very good thing, because trying to come up with a dish enticing enough to impress a prince – and a brutally grumpy one at that – was a messy task. Also time-consuming, but I didn’t really notice that part. Despite the chaos, I was loving every moment of it. It had been ages sinceI’d gotten to try to cook something from scratch, let alone come up with my own original recipes. It felt so good digging in, being creative, and working with my hands.
I steamed, sauteed, ground, dried, and chopped. I made seaweed soup with bone broth and spices, dehydrated seaweed crisps sprinkled with salt, and had even managed something close to seaweed flour. It wouldn’t make that gorgeous wheat flour bread I’d had at dinner and again at breakfast today, but I did approximate something close to a very dense scone.
None of it was perfect, but it was a pretty freaking great start in my opinion. I planned to refine the recipes, come up with a few more, and then, when I was ready, present them to Galbrath. Maybe if he could see how tasty the seaweed options could be, it might make the failing wheat a bit of an easier pill – or meal, I guessed – to swallow.
Well, that was my plan, anyway. Until my husband decided to waltz into the room mid-mess.
I didn’t hear him come in. No, I was too busy with my head halfway into a hot oven, gently singing made-up songs of encouragement to my newest batch of scones as I checked on their progress. I was pretty sure it was when I got to the, “You’re the scones we want to eat! You are awesome, who needs wheat?!” bit that Galbrath settled himself behind me, stance wide, brawny bare arms crossed over his chest.
I closed the oven, straightened, turned around, and just about jumped out of my skin at the sight of him.
“When did you get here?” I said, slamming my hand against my chest as if I could contain my leaping heart.
“I arrived around the time you were very sweetly commanding whatever is in the oven to rise through the power of song.” His gaze went to my mouth. “You have a nice voice.”
“So not only do I smell nice, but I sound nice too? Anything else?” I asked. Damn. I couldn’t even hide it. I was totally fishing for compliments.
“Look nice,” he grunted. “Especially when you’re bent over in front of me like that and I get to stare at your backside.”
Genuine laughter bubbled up and out of my throat.
Galbrath cocked his head, his eyes roaming my face. “That wasn’t a joke.”
“I know,” I said, still chuckling. “But I can’t help it. You have great delivery. Very dry.”
He made a harrumphing sort of sound in his throat before turning to cast his eye around the disaster of a kitchen.
“What are you doing in here?”
“Don’t look!” I screeched, flapping my hands at him in a vain attempt at distraction. “Nothing’s ready yet! You weren’t supposed to come so soon!”
“Soon?” His head whipped back to me, eyes probing. “It’s full dark out. I was late getting back from the last farm and dinner’s come and gone. You weren’t in the hall and you weren’t in bed. I came to find you.”
“I missed dinner?!” Luckily, I’d spent so much of the afternoon sampling my recipes that I wasn’t hungry now, but I couldn’t believe so much time had passed.
“I can have something fetched for you. Whatever you like.”
“I’m actually not hungry.” Now that I’d stopped moving for a moment, I was more tired than anything.
“You still haven’t answered my question.” His eyes were like coals, black and bright at the same time. “What are you doing down here?”
There was no point in trying to hide it anymore or lying to preserve the surprise. With my luck he’d probably be able to tell I wasn’t being honest just by sniffing me.