Page 57 of Touch of Death
Just when I’m about to open my mouth to try to break the tension between us, there’s a knock.
Death rises immediately and strides across the room to throw open the doors. He almost seems disappointed when it isn’t Eros but the two female attendants. One of which is carrying a covered tray.
“Your dinner,” she says, stepping into the room to place it down on the bed beside me. “Afterward, we will help you prepare for bed.”
“Eros will be late returning tonight,” the other woman says, her gaze slipping to Death before returning to me.
I eat in silence as Death paces the room, and I start to worry that we won’t have another moment alone to talk. After finishing my meal, one of the attendants leads me into the bathroom to bathe and dress me while the other sets to work starting a fire.
The nightgown she gives me is little more than a thin layer of silk, barely opaque enough to conceal me while still clinging to my form.
“Beautiful,” she says, with an approving look. “Now, go to him.”
“Oh, no,” I say quickly, shaking my head.
“Why not?”
“I … I can’t.”
She laughs at this before realizing I’m serious.
“But you must,” she says.
“He doesn’t want me in that way, trust me.”
“Nonsense, go to him. Let him see you like this. Unless it is you who doesn’t want him?”
I open my mouth to answer but suddenly realize I can’t. Perhaps she’s right. The woman gives me an encouraging look as she and the other servant gather their things and leave.
Death is sitting in an armchair by the large window, watching the city come to life in the growing darkness. Cautiously, I make my way over to him, my heart pounding in my chest.
“Sydian,” I say softly, and he slowly turns to glance back at me.
His eyes widen as they take me in, the iciness of his shadows pouring around me, making my breasts take shape beneath the thin fabric.
“Hazel, I—” I don’t know what comes over me as I suddenly reach for his mask. Death catches my wrist in his gloved hand just as my fingertips brush against it, a low growl rolling from him. “No.”
“But—”
“I said no.”
The firmness with which he says this has me shrinking back on myself. I knew I shouldn’t have listened to that woman.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, my voice cracking. Shame burns my cheeks as I quickly step back.
“Hazel—”
Pulling my wrist from Death’s grip, I turn and quickly make my way over to the bed, hoping to hide my shame beneath the covers.
I hear Death sigh from his corner of the room before rising and then the soft thud of his boots drawing nearer. I quickly close my eyes just as the door suddenly flies open with a bang.
Sitting up, I watch as a very drunk Eros stumbles in, and Death changes course to put himself between us.
Eros makes a tutting sound as he waves a hand in our direction. Death tenses as though preparing for whatever verbal attack Eros is about to launch.
All I can do is glance between them as I clutch the blanket to me, hoping that the two aren’t about to entangle themselves in another fight.
“Such a shame not to catch the two of you in bed together,” Eros says, his words coming out slightly slurred as he leans against the doorway.
