His lips press together, the slight dimples in his cheeks appear. It’s enough to make my legs tremble, and I lower my gaze from his. “No,” he says, and lifts my chin with his smooth fingertips. “You never look down. You’re every bit my equal.”
I laugh. “Don’t toy, Xarion.”
“I’m not.” His eyes are intense green pools, a turbulent ocean that rocks my stomach. “And you feel this way . . .” His head tilts to the side questioningly. “. . . because we’re the best of friends?”
“Of course.” My head snaps back. “I’m bound to serve and protect you, because of my binds. But I’d willingly guard you, regardless. Just as I would Phoenix or Lunia. Even more so because I know of the great future that is before you.”
“Of course.” A dark gray clouds his eyes before he nods. “Then you understand that I feel the same. That I’d forfeit my life if it would mean sparing yours.”
His eyes linger on my face. The pads of his fingers trace the ink along my neck. The swell of music rises around us, sinking us further into this still, suspended moment. I want to argue that his notion is ridiculous—he’s my master. But I don’t dare speak to disturb the trance he has over me.
That he’s always had over me.
“Now,” he says, and I give my head a shake, the spell breaking. The beads in my hair clank, awakening me further. Xarion lowers his hand to my waist and begins to rock us. “Indulge me in one dance before I’m forced to be practical.”
Taking a steadying breath, I push my unwanted feelings for him deeper, farther away from my consciousness. “Is this a command, master?”
A mocking scowl mars his face. “Please don’t make it have to be.”
Ignoring the pain his earlier command caused me, I nod. “Fine. Let’s go.” I take his hand and lead him toward the undulating bodies amid the feast.
“Yes! And beer, too.”
“You’re impossible,” I mutter. But my senses are slowly returning as we weave a path through the dancing crowd.
Xarion grabs a goblet and dunks it into a barrel of red drink, then guzzles. The crimson liquid runs down his chin. He chuckles, trying to wipe it away as someone knocks into him. He passes it to me, and I sigh with acceptance. I might as well enjoy the few carefree moments we have before what’s awaiting us just past the walls descends. The tangy alcohol fizzles against my lips, tingling as it slides down my throat.
The effect is immediate, and a laugh tumbles from my mouth. My head lightens. Xarion takes another gulp, and makes me as well, before he tosses the cup over his shoulder and brings me into his arms.
The drumming vibrates through my chest. The hypnotic music engulfs us, our forms swallowed among the sea of scantily-dressed bodies. We’re just two celebrating citizens—nothing to draw attention to the king of Egypt. It’s freeing. I wrap my arms around Xarion’s neck, the heat from dancing bodies clinging to me, his heat fueling my desire to be closer.
Leaning his head near my ear, Xarion says, “Did I mention how sultry you look tonight?”
My face warms. I bite down on m
y lip and shake my head. “Don’t tease.”
His face looks stricken. “I would never . . . and you never dress like this.” His eyes roam over my body, leaving a shiver in their wake. “I’m afraid to leave you for the procession. I’ll be made to do something rash, like fight some brawny Egyptian for trying to touch you.”
I slap his arm. He raises his brows. “It’s true,” he says. “I may even be forced to order you to never dress like this again. Unless I’m near.”
“How very possessive of you, master.” I shake my head, and instantly regret it when the torch lights trail against the dark night. My vision swims.
“With Sekhmet’s liquid bliss coursing through my veins, it’s all I can do to keep my hands off you.” He skims a hand down the length of my thigh. Fire ignites beneath his touch.
I can’t think straight. The shouts and laughs and music invade my head, my senses. My body sways, and I have to turn my back to Xarion, to hide the very apparent affect he’s having on me.
I know the drink is blurring his reasoning, as well. And I remind myself we’re only dancing, just like the others around us. He’s enjoying himself freely, and it means nothing. But as my eyes scan the guardians and humans, their bodies grinding against each other—their exposed skin being caressed, kissed, worshiped—my heart slams in my throat.
The feel of Xarion’s chest pressing against my back sends tendrils of heat lashing against the walls of my stomach. His hand slides across my bare midsection, the tips of his fingers just snaking beneath the rim of my sash. His other hand roams down, tugging at my skirt. It slips between my legs, grasps my inner-thigh. His thumb caresses the sensitive skin too close to my undergarment seam, and heat blazes—a deep, throbbing ache.
My breath shudders past my lips.
Then I’m spinning to face him. His stormy green eyes are desperate, mirroring the yearn panging through my body. He anchors his hips to mine. The feel of his want presses hard against me.
His head slowly dips closer to mine. My eyes half close, my vision fuzzy. The warmth of his breath steals across my lips.
He halts.