Bastian’s hand covered her own, and she tried not to flinch at the electricity that coursed through her at his touch.
It felt like home, having his skin against hers, and she wanted to crawl into his lap and cry out all her troubles. He wanted to protect her; would it be so awful to let him?
She bit the inside of her cheek. This whole feeling of connection was false. When her magic finally faded, she wouldn’t be more than a puzzling gap of memory to him.
“If I could help…” Bastian breathed.
Saina drew herself up. There was no way he was as good and as selfless as he seemed. “You can’t,” she said with a practiced smile. “But you could get me a plate of dessert!”
Bastian was out of his chair and back to the buffet before she could even add a little pout at the end.
She had cleared the rest of her plate by the time he returned bearing a dazzling array of sweets on three different plates. “I couldn’t possibly eat all that!” She laughed at him.
He seemed to find that reaction pleasing, and when she insisted he enjoy one of the plates himself, agreed willingly. Even the way he ate was sexy, and when he licked sugar off his lips, Saina had to pinch herself to stay focused.
Each dessert was more decadent than the last, and when she put her fork down at last, she had to groan. “I should have skipped the last cream puff, but it was sooo good.”
Bastian preened. “I shall let Chef know that you liked it.”
“Please do,” Saina said sincerely.
She washed the last rich bite down with a sip of the juice she hadn’t even noticed the waiter bringing her earlier.
With the sip, and the reminder of her true nature, the exhaustion that had been barely at arm’s length came rushing back. Saina’s shoulder ached again.
It didn’t go unnoticed.
“You should rest,” Bastian told her. “Let me take you back…” his hesitation was obvious. Saina waited for him to insist they go back to his own room, but he finished: “...to your cottage.”
Could he really be that much of a gentleman? Saina had expected to have to sing him to sleep to keep her hard-won chastity. She was almost tearfully grateful for that grace, even while she was slightly disappointed.
“I’d like that,” she said, not having to feign her weakness.
Every step back to her cottage jarred her shoulder painfully, and Saina was glad to have Bastian on her good side to lean against. When he picked her up to lay her into her bed, she let herself put her head against his broad shoulder for just a moment too long, and letting go again was more difficult than she imagined it could be.
He changed her bandage with swift, gentle fingers. “It’s healing well,” he said, sounding relieved.
“I’m mostly… tired,” Saina said truthfully.
“That’s to be expected. Sleep as long as you need,” Bastian told her, tucking the light blanket carefully around her. “I’ll know when you wake up.”
Saina was too tired to ask how he would know, and let her eyes drift closed as she felt his lips chastely kiss her forehead.
This resort was like a guilty dream; people who didn’t pry into her past or act like she was beholden to them, despite the fact that she owed them her life. No one obviously trying to hurt or use her.
Saina fell asleep wondering when the other shoe would drop.
Chapter 8
Bastian returned to the staff house feeling like his feet had wings of their own.
His mate. His beautiful, graceful, glorious mate was here, and his life felt complete.
She had accepted his food, and suggested he give her a tour of his domain, sure signs of acceptance. She was healing swiftly, and Bastian expected nothing but a full recovery as his courtship started in earnest.
“The Menagerie? Or Animal House?” Breck greeted him as soon as he stepped into the door of the big house most of the male staff shared.
“Non sequitur, much?” Bastian responded, puzzled but amused. Their earlier altercation was still confusing, but forgiven.