Page 15 of The Immortal's Trick
Des meets my eyes, and something kind passes between us. “Pleasure to meet you, Eshe. Nebet.” He doesn’t linger. He and Lome exchange a quiet embrace, then—somehow—Lome maneuvers him into the seat next to Nebet.
Which means…
Lome’s arm brushes mine as he sits beside me.
A jolt runs through me, sharp and silent. I freeze, like a field mouse under the shadow of a hawk.
“Would you prefer to sit by your sister?” he asks softly.
I lift my eyes and note the concerned glint in his eye.
“No,” I manage. “I’m content here.”
His smile blooms slowly, radiating warmth. I can’tbreathe.
He murmurs, “I’m happy to hear it.”
I look away before I do something foolish, like reach for his hand to feel that enticing spark once more. From the corner of my eye, I note Nebet and Des speaking.
“I hope your brother is harmless,” I say quietly, eyes on the stage.
“Rest assured, Des has no noble or ill intentions toward your sister.”
I can’t help it—I’m insulted on Nebet’s behalf. I press my lips together.
The man beside me does not miss a single reaction. “I meant no offense.”
He says that a lot.
“None taken.” I lie.
Lome leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, angling closer. His warmth reaches me in tantalizing waves, along with his enticing spicy scent. “Des is… not interested in women.”
I blink. “Oh.”
My eyes flick to Des, and the truth dawns slowly. I’ve heard whispers of such things, but never met anyone like him.
Lome sees the thought forming and nearly chokes on a laugh. “No, not likethat.” He pauses to chuckle, then adds, “He’s in mourning.”
Pain flickers in his eyes. Grief, shared between brothers as he continues, “Des lost someone he loved. He wouldn’t want me to speak of it, but I want you to know your sister is in safe company.”
“I am sorry.” I know too well the pain and heartache of losing a loved one. Without thinking, I place a consoling hand on his arm.
Lome’s muscle tightens beneath my palm. His head snaps toward me, eyes locking on mine.
Everything stills.
I forget the theater, the crowd, my breath. There’s something between us I don’t understand.
Everything about this man wills me to welcome him, to open up and share every single hope and fear I’ve ever had. My instincts scream for me to trust him—beg me to let him in.
Then, the first drum sounds. Applause breaks across the audience like a wave. And the spell is broken.
I pull my hand back, cheeks burning, and face forward. I hear Lome exhale beside me, then feel him settle back in his seat.
We don’t look at each other again, but my pulse accelerates every time his arm brushes mine. I don’t know whatthisis… what’s happening to me.
But as the actors step onto the stage … I let myself wonder what might happen if I stopped fighting this natural draw to the handsome man.
