Page 29 of A Delicate Conquest

He fished into some mysterious pocket in his robes, retrieving her shoes—not one, but two.

Bea’s eyebrows rose.

“I had both of them remade. You can’t have one new, and the other scuffed and slightly worn. This makes more sense.”

“A stickler for detail, I see,” she remarked, looking at her new shoes in disbelief. They were the exact same pair of silver strappy heels, as perfect as they’d been on the day she’d bought them.

“Always.”

Before she realized what he was doing, Mavrel had dropped down on one knee, shoes in hand.

“What are you?—”

“Allow me,” Mavrel ordered, and even though he was kneeling and helping her put on her damn shoes—something she would have happily done herself—it felt like he was the one in charge.

Feeling a bit like Cinderella, Bea had no choice but to slip her foot into the shoe, a faint, pleasurable tingle dancing down her spine as Mavrel’s fingers grazed across the top of her foot.

Then, the other one.

Mavrel rose to his full height: graceful, elegant, and carrying an air of authority that she hadn’t really appreciated before.

“Thank you,” she said breathlessly. The alcohol was starting to take effect, suffusing her cheeks with heat.

He offered her his arm like an old-fashioned gentleman. Where had he learned to dothat?

She took it, curling her fingers around his arm, around his powerful biceps. He might be lithe, but there was no mistaking the fact that he was very fit and toned.

“Are you ready, Bea?”

“Yeah, I am.”

“Then, let’s go.”

With that, her unexpected date escorted her out the door and down a dark and curving corridor toward the unknown.

But that was okay because somehow, as if in a fantastical dream, she suddenly hadhimfor company, and she couldn’t wait to find out what made this delicious man tick.

ELEVEN

This was possiblythe hardest thing Mavrel had ever done in his life.

She’d been fascinated at the sight of him.

He’d seen it.

She waspleased, and her reaction drove him a little wild.

For once, he had to admit that Rykal was right. The so-calleddripmattered.

And the sparring session had been a little more effective than Zharek’s drugs, although it hadn’t completely dulled the effects of the Mating Fever.

He suspected nothing could.

So he was forced to draw on every last molecule of his self-control as she held his arm, her scent wafting around him like an intoxicating vapor, threatening to bring him to his knees.

It wasdefinitelythe hardest thing he’d ever done.

But it was also exhilarating.

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