Page 21 of Bound By Dance and Desire

She huffed. “You aresucha Fae. You want, you take.”

Fair enough. “Not just a Fae, little mortal.”

I licked the mark I’d made then yanked her head back to look in her eyes, to make sure she understood.

“A High Fae Lord.”

My Anah’s eyes sharpened with fear. She must have been taught enough to understand the difference—and she'd clearly demonstrated she was no fool—because at the admission she stilled, lowering her lashes, and remained silent the rest of the trip to her former home.

She didn’t try to pull away from me, but she didn’t look at me again either.

Chapter

Seven

HASANNAH

Since leaving home I'd had to be strategic with food, balancing medium quality protein and fat with inexpensive carbohydrates. I needed fuel and nutrients, and plenty of both, but I also needed to eat more than once every other day, so there was that.

As Andrei helped me put away the bounty of groceries he'd purchased, I couldn't help but cradle each item in my hand, examining its shape and weight and color before reluctantly setting it aside.

A brilliant red pepper, it's scent drifting off unbruised skin. A bright green apple. The deep, stately magenta of a fat eggplant. Bleeding cuts of red meat wrapped lovingly in brown paper. Plus the various purple and orange grains that passed as rice in this realm, round brown eggs, a jug of thick cream. Pats of hand churned butter?—

“Hasannah.”

I jerked, abandoning the attempt to forget what he'd said in the coach, and looked up at him.

“I feel your distress.”

Not a Low Fae. Not a simple—ora higher ranked—House warrior.

Sweet Jesus, nota Lord.

A High Lord.

This wasn’t going to end well.

Andrei stared at me, his hip propped against the counter, his turquoise eyes both amused and. . .almost angry.

Staring into them, I realized there were flecks of warm amber around the pupils, like embers of condensed sunlight. I didn't think he would hurt me, but I also wasn't stupid enough to want to test that theory.

“I see,” I said.

Was I supposed to use his title? Bow? Perversely, that was part of the etiquette I hadn't paid much attention to because I'd not only fully intended to avoid any High Fae Lords, but had assumed I would in any case. The only time I'd expected to come close was if I was accepted to Sahakian Arts company. Even then, we could only expect to be in the same building with High Lords during performances.

He uncoiled from his slouch and I tensed.

“How long has it been since you've had a decent meal?” he asked.

The pitch of his voice warned me to take care with the answer to that question. Heads would roll, probably at my feet. WhenI'd mentioned the bribes earlier, his eyes had darkened with an executioner's purpose.

“Do I look like I'm missing any meals?” I deflected, joking. Or making the attempt, at least. It was difficult, when the bruise on my neck still throbbed.

When I throbbed between my legs because evidently my normally low libido had decided to come awake around him. It just figured. I doubted it would last, though.

He studied my face, then set the question aside as if he understood my unease. “Do you want to take the vegetables or the meat?”

How could he make such soft, bland words sound so obscene? Was it because his gaze trailed up and down my body, pausing at my neck, at my lips, at my breasts. . .flaring with heat when I pressed my thighs together?

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