Page 183 of A Tribute of Fire

And someone else, apparently. “Did you tell anyone about it? The book?”

“Who would I tell?”

“That’s not an answer!” My body was angry at me for not being pressed up against his and I tried very hard to ignore it.

“I told no one,” he said.

“Swear it. On your life.”

“I swear it on my life,” he said, putting one of his hands over his heart. “Even more meaningful, I swear it on your life.”

Why would that be more meaningful to him? He wasn’t making any sense. Or my anger and longing and his proximity were making it impossible for me to think clearly or to be rational.

His voice took on that low and intoxicating tone, the one more powerful and dangerous than any honeyed wine. “Trust me, if I broke into your room, it wouldn’t be to steal a book.”

His gaze traveled leisurely over my form, from head to foot, and it was like he was touching me even though we were standing several feet apart.

“Oh?” My voice was unsteady, just like my pulse.

He gave me a wicked smile, the one I saw in my dreams. “I can think of many, many other things I would enjoy doing first.”

I wanted to ask him, “Like what?” but knew that whatever answer he gave me would wipe out the little self-control I had left.

The wine certainly wasn’t helping with that, either.

Was he attempting to charm me so that I wouldn’t question him further? “Why are you even out here?”

“I was worried you might try to sneak out tonight with the festival going on, and here we are. I thought you might need my help.”

“It’s not your concern.” I hadn’t even been planning on sneaking out. He didn’t know me nearly as well as he seemed to think he did.

“I do know you,” he responded, making me realize that I’d accidentally said the last part out loud.

That left me speechless, sputtering and trying to think of some kind of witty retort to impale him with.

“You shouldn’t leave the temple grounds,” he said while I floundered about without a suitable response. “It isn’t safe.”

“But you’re the only person here,” I said triumphantly, proud that I’d finally managed to say something. “Should I be worried about you?”

“Yes.”

He’d said it seriously, like it was meant as a warning. Instead I was excited by the fact that he might be dangerous.

Maybe he was right and I wasn’t safe here. I should have asked him to give me a boost so that I could climb back over the temple’s fence. But I didn’t want to do that. I both wanted to flee and to stay. I hated that he had this effect on my emotions, that with just one fiery look he could reduce me to ash and fill me with conflict.

He let out a short sigh. “Lia, Lia, Lia.”

I liked the way his mouth moved as he caressed the syllables of my name.

“You know, I never asked you if Lia is a nickname.”

Fear lacerated my heart and I fought to bring my face under control. “Why would you want to know that?”

“Names are important. They have power. Especially true names.”

That caused me to think of when I’d dreamed about the goddess and when I’d heard her speak to me when I was awake. She always called me Euthalia. Never Thalia, never Lia.

“Do you know the name of the goddess?” I asked.

---