BREAKFAST AND CARRIAGE RIDES
Istretched in Hunter's bed the next morning, a gleeful groan echoing in the large room as I admired the ache and strain of my body. My orc had been holding back. I stroked an aimless hand up my ribs and over one breast, delicately testing the marks his tusks had left on me, just shy of breaking the flesh. There would be pretty twin bruises decorating me now, playful bite marks creating a pattern of passion. Ronan would have to help me cover them up for the stage. I giggled, already imagining all his jealous griping.
A soft knock on the door stilled my hands, and I tugged the sheet up and tried to tame the copper nest of hair on my head. Hunter had already left for the morning, and I vaguely recalled a gently growled promise of a surprise.
"Come in," I called, expecting Hunter's butler.
The door opened slowly, and I kept my sheet in place as I sat up at the sight of the heavily laden breakfast tray. But it was Jude and not the butler at all who stepped into the room, and my hand on the sheet slipped as I gasped. He stopped in place, staring back at me, and dishes rattled on the tray as one of his own hands started to drop. He caught it quickly, sky blue eyes blinking.
"I…"
There wasn't much I found more flattering than a man who failed to recall his own powers of speech when he looked at me, and I took my time in drawing the sheet up again and tucking it under my arms.
"Brought me breakfast?" I suggested gently.
Jude cleared his throat, then glanced out the door as if looking for backup. He let out a small puffing laugh and shook his head, nudging the door shut with his foot and then crossing to me. He was dressed in light, clean clothing, that heavy black coat that disguised his wings gone, and as he stepped into a ray of sunlight I saw them slightly shuttered at his back.
"I can't decide if I should ask you to take mercy on me and dress, or if I'd rather burn all your clothing to make sure you don't," Jude said, settling at the edge of the bed and putting the tray down between us.
I laughed and slid out from under the sheet, holding Jude's wide gaze as I moved to the armoire, where my robe was hanging over the door. I put it on slowly, turning on my toes to give him a good view, before finally tying it around my waist.
"Better?" I asked, returning to the bed.
Jude swallowed and cleared his throat, but his voice still came out in a growl. "Not exactly."
I grinned, ignoring the fabric of my robe as I crawled forward on my knees toward him, knowing it would reveal plenty of skin as I moved. "You don't have to resist, you know."
His eyes were growing black, but he reached out and stopped me with a firm hand on my thigh. "I don't…but I have something of a plan for us today, and if I'm going to get you back to the theater for the show, we'll have to behave…this morning."
I sat back on my heels and reached for a piece of toast. "That's intriguing enough to pause my seduction, I suppose. Are we going somewhere?"
"We are."
I raised my eyebrows. "But you won't tell me where?"
"You won't have long to wait," Jude said, shrugging and lifting a bite of sausage up on his fork, arching an eyebrow. "Provided you don't dawdle."
"And whose idea was it for you to bring me breakfast?" I asked.
"Hunter's," Jude said, glancing up at me. "Do you mind?"
"Not at all. But I'm beginning to realize that some of my men are a bit high-handed."
"Consider it a testament to the inspiration you provide."
"Inspiration? Am I inspiring you, sir?" I teased him as I sat forward, the robe slipping and gaping at the collar, Jude's stare falling eagerly into the shadows.
He had his legs crossed, but it wasn't enough to hide his arousal. "You're very cheerful this morning."
"I was very well-bedded last night," I purred. "I could be very well-bedded again."
Jude's cheeks were flushed and he glared at me, picking up a strawberry and trying to stuff it between my lips. I nipped his fingers, and he groaned and stood up from the bed, pacing along the edge as I laughed.
"You must be very proud of your plan," I said.
"It'll be worth the torture," he agreed, taking a deep breath to control himself.
I shouldn't have provoked him. It was fairly obvious to me he hadn't had many occasions to indulge in physical desire. Not if he'd had to hide those wings.
"I had no idea what a relief it would be to tell them," I said, rearranging my robe and returning to my food.
Jude sighed and settled back on the bed. "I had no idea what a joy it would be to actually feel…fae. Anything of my father, really. And since you gave that to me, I'd like to do the same for you."
I tipped my head and tried to fight my smirk. "I believe I've explored my nymph qualities quite thoroughly on stage. And we could certainly do the same in the bed."
This time, it was Jude who looked smug. "Maybe. But let's see if I can't surprise you. Eat your breakfast and dress. If you try and tempt me any more, I'll have to go downstairs and wait for you in the carriage Hunter has left for us."
I opened my mouth to do exactly that, and Jude raised an eyebrow, challenging me. Fine, better to behave and find out what surprise he had in store. I grabbed a piece of bacon and smiled angelically back.
* * *
Fed,washed, and dressed, and an hour later, we were in the carriage. I made a few wicked suggestions of how we might pass the time, mostly to rile Jude up, but he tangled our fingers together and found the words to derail me completely.
"Tell me about your father."
My breath was deep and rough and I twisted away, staring out the carriage window, as if I could erase the request by ignoring it. Jude didn't say anything else, just sat in the quiet of the ride as we wound our way through the streets of London. He didn't retract the words, didn't add to them, didn't apologize. It wasn't a demand, but it tugged at me like one until it was a pounding refrain in my head, a story begging to be let out, exorcized from me.
And if I would tell anyone, Jude would be the one.
"My entire life, every day, he told me I would leave. That it was in my blood to run like my mother," I said at last. And once those words were spoken, so many more wanted to follow. I sighed, turned back, and let my knees hit Jude's. I rested my head on his shoulder, and his thumb stroked at the back of my hand. "I wanted to. So badly. Every second of every day, I wanted to run from him. And I refused to, because she had run from me, and I wanted to be anything but like her."
Jude hmm'd, his cheek resting against the top of my head. "You wanting to run had more to do with him than with her."
I nodded. "I know that now. I'm still scared I'll run, and I'm still terrified that I might not when I ought to. I don't want to prove him right."
"That doesn't mean he deserves to have any influence over your decisions now," Jude said.