Shadow Phantoms - H.P. Mallory Page 0,65
looking up to see what this stranger thinks of it. In the background, I hear Darius as he drapes a table. I turn to see him smoothing the bumps of a linen cloth and then he places two glasses onto the table, alongside a platter of grapes, melon, figs, crackers and cheeses. My stomach does a joyful little pirouette at the sight of the fare being laid out. A growing part of me doesn’t care what this man does to me, so long as I’m allowed some of the meal. It’ll be the best thing I’ve eaten in weeks, maybe even months.
“Enjoy,” Darius bites out before backing out of the room again. He glares at me in a way that promises punishment when this man leaves tomorrow. I feel my stomach drop down to my toes.
When the stranger and I are alone again, the man gestures at the two chairs beside the table. “Sit and eat. You look famished.” As if to lead by example, he sits down and smiles up at me.
I hesitate, even as my stomach yearns toward the food and growls audibly, embarrassing me. The man offers me an understanding smile and waves toward the food once more.
What if he’s baiting me like a dog, and intends to hurt me the second I lay a finger on the meal? After all, I haven’t done anything to earn such a reward yet. Perhaps, if I sat on his lap? If I pretended to be more interested in his cock than I was in the food? Yes. That would entitle me to a bit at least, wouldn’t it?
He watches with concern as I stumble away from the vanity, still unsteady from the morning’s withdrawal. I’m already feeling miles better than I was, but it appears I’m a few apples short of a full cart.
The man inhales in what appears to be surprise as I sink onto his lap. His tawny eyes fly open wide as he stares down at me, even as those strong hands settle at the small of my back, keeping me from sliding off his lap.
“What are you doing?” His voice is a low, melodic murmur. I blink coquettishly up at him, forcing my lips to twist into a playful smile the way Darius has instructed me. Not only do I dance, but I have to pretend all my visitors… arouse me. And Darius has taught me how to wear such an expression.
“I’m sitting on your lap,” I purr. “Unless you want me to move?”
There’s a glint of dark humor in those fathomless eyes for a just a moment before his hands slide beneath my ass. They don’t curl around my flesh and squeeze, the way I expect. He just lifts me carefully and deposits me on the chair beside him. It’s all done so effortlessly and with such amusement, that I don’t feel the sting of rejection as strongly as I expect. He selects a piece of cheese from the platter and offers it to me.
I don’t understand what I’ve done to offend him. I looked at him the way Darius taught me to and I tried to show my interest by sitting on his lap. Yes, I’ve earned a reward in the form of a piece of cheese, but I feel like I’ve done the wrong thing, all the same.
“As lovely as you are, I prefer to keep this… arrangement professional, for the time being.”
Professional?
“You really should eat,” he continues. “You’re dreadfully pale.”
At last, a genuine smile stretches my lips, even as I’m offended by his words. “Eating won't help that, I’m afraid. I’m as pale as a fucking shade and always have been.”
He chuckles at this. “Good thing a Shepherd hasn’t come for you yet.”
I’m fairly sure Darius would beat off any Shepherd or Shepherdess that came to the door with their gilded lantern hung from a crook, priest in tow, with the intent to take my soul. The bastard would still try to sell me even if I died. But I’m not counting on meeting my end with the grim-faced reapers of souls just yet.
I should be so lucky.
“Darius wouldn’t even let a Shepherd take me without paying.”
The man snorts once in amusement and pops a grape into his mouth, chewing to disguise the distinct sound of his laughter. I take a tentative nibble on my piece of cheese and close my eyes when the sharp bite of cheddar washes across my tongue.
Gods above, it’s been so long since I had a