Page 15 of Bound By Dance and Desire

“I understand. And because your art requires your full attention, you'll allow me to take care of these mundane matters, hmm?”

Another long, slow caress, indulgent because there could be no doubt of his strength, of his absolute certainty I was his. He could afford indulgence. He didn’t need to prove with force what we both knew.

I gave up. He was a gentle, but inexorable steamroll. I heard no wiggle room in his voice. I nodded, a little grim. It was easier.

He’d have to learn the hard way the payout I could give wasn’t worth his effort.

“Good girl. Now, we’ll go get food.”

I changed into a burgundy calf-length tunic, slit up the sides, and narrow dark gray pants. It was a comfortable outfit made of the wrinkle resistant linen like fabric of this realm, and reminded me almost of the ao dai that could be found at home.

Andrei called a coach. I stopped in front of it, nearly unaware of his hand resting at the small of my back, my heels digging in.

“Hasannah?” A question in the deep tenor of his voice.

I shook myself and stepped up into the coach, pulling aside the curtains and scooting as close to the window as possible.

“Is it coaches you don’t like,” he drawled, lounging on the bench opposite me, “or small spaces?”

“Neither bother me. I don’t like cages.”

“Hmm.” His voice warmed with amusement. “Not a docile bird to eat from her master’s hand then?”

I turned to look at him. “No. I’m the bird that will peck out her jailer’s eyes.”

He arched an emerald-black brow, lips quirking, but his eyes sharpened. “I’ll remember the warning, cygnet.”

The coach took us to the nearest market he found acceptable, the Fae Harry Potter gaslamp version of Whole Foods. My heart sank the moment we pulled into the parking lot.

“Andrei, this place is too. . .” I trailed off, stumped if pleading poverty would go against the rules of hospitality. Well, maybe hedidn't expect me to feed him a full meal? Wine and cheese and a little fruit?

. . .cheap wine and string cheese. I wasn't certain what the poor girl's version of fruit was in the Fae realm other than no fruit at all. Though meat here was more expensive than produce. Maybe he was a vegetarian. . .with fangs.

He stopped walking and turned to me, his regard steady. “We had a bargain, Hasannah.”

Oh, no he didn't. “We didn't make a bargain.”

“We did. You’ll focus on your dance, and I’ll focus on provision. Everyone has a role suited to their abilities.”

I crossed my arms, frowning at him. Never in a million years had I thought to meet a Fae male who sounded like my dad.

“That makes absolutely no sense. What do you get out of me so-called focusing on my dance?”

The smile he offered was tinged with something slightly wicked, and wholly masculine.

“You'll find out, darling. But regardless, that is also one of the matters we’ll discuss.Afterdinner.”

He wasn’t going to like howthatconversation would go. Of course, he’d start out understanding and eager to prove he was different, as if my body cared. Then. . .things would devolve from there. Maybe I could hurry the Phases along this time. Phase One was always; He Shows Sympathy and Understanding.

Except I didn’t want to see that false earnestness on this man’s face. Not yet.

“Aren't I the one who's supposed to be providing the hospitality?” I asked. “That means we have to do this onmybudget.”

Andrei's expression darkened. “I will allow a poor, half starving human girl to buy my food when my body is fit for nothing except feeding my mother's swans.”

We stared at each other. “But I spent an entire four hours on the hospitality module.”

His eyes widened with unsubtle mockery. “Anentirefour hours? My.” He lifted a hand. “Forgive me. I don't mean to disparage your hospitality. If you like, you can place yourself in my debt.”

---