Jecca couldn’t help the little thrill that went through her. The sexiness of this meeting appealed to her. Of talking to a man she didn’t know, of not seeing him, but able to feel his breath on her face, hear his voice, touch his hand. It all appealed to the artist in her.
On impulse, she stepped toward him and put both her hands out until they touched his neck. He was taller than she’d thought.
“Psyche must have tried to feel what her lover looked like. She—”
“Husband,” Tris said as Jecca’s hands moved up to his head. “They were married, remember?”
“Ah yes.” She put her hands on each side of his face. He had a lot of hair. “Dark or light?” she asked.
“Whichever you like better, that’s the color my hair is.”
His hair was thick, and she could feel a bit of wave to it. If she drew it, it would be dark. “Black as this night,” she said. He didn’t answer, but she felt his smile against her palms.
His ears were not too big, not too small, and quite flat against his head. “Good,” she murmured, sounding as though she were a scientist making a discovery. “No open cab doors here.”
She felt his smile broaden but he didn’t speak. She ran her fingers over his forehead. “No receding hairline, which means you’re younger than I thought.”
“Or it could be hereditary. My father—”
“Sssssh. I’m doing the exam now. You’re no longer the doctor.”
“In that case, I can cough.”
She didn’t know what he meant at first, then tried not to laugh. “I think I should have a nurse present to protect my chastity.”
“A threesome?”
“Ssssh,” she said again as she moved to his eyes. He didn’t close them until she touched his eyelids. “Brows not too bushy. Lashes rather too long.”
“A curse from my father’s family. My niece’s look like feathers.”
“How uncomfortable for her,” Jecca said as she ran her fingertips over his nose. Long and straight, no bumps, no distortions of any kind. “Nose seems to work well.”
“I can smell your perfume.”
“I never wear—” she began, then knew he was teasing her. “I find that Cadmium Yellow wo Ciumt srks best for me.”
“Myself, I like Cerulean Blue. Especially on nights like this.”
He stopped talking when her fingertips reached his lips. She could feel whiskers on his cheeks and chin, that ancient sign that signaled male. It had been a while since he’d shaved, so they were almost soft. She wanted to put her lips to them, feel them on the tip of her tongue.
“Jecca,” he whispered.
She straightened her spine. “None of that now, I’m Psyche, and I want to feel what you look like.” With her fingertips on his whiskery cheeks, she ran her thumbs over his lips. They were full and soft.
“Psyche wanted her husband to make love to her,” he whispered.
She could feel his breath on her skin, feel the way his lips moved under her thumbs.
He leaned toward her, and she knew he was going to kiss her—and she wanted him to.
But just then lights came on in the big house behind them and she turned to look at them.
Tris said, “Damnation!” then he was gone.
Jecca looked back at him but he wasn’t there. It was as if she’d made up the whole incident, dreamed it all.
But then Tris’s voice came to her from the woods. “Psyche!” he called to her.