irritating parts of being blind—when people moved things on her unexpectedly. “Usually, slapping a man is enough to discourage him.”
“It’ll take a lot more than that to scare me off. How many men have you had cause to slap? Are you practiced in the art? You have impeccable aim. Especially considering your condition.”
“You never shut up. It helps.”
He laughed. “Oh, I do like you very much, Hope. Very much.”
“And I have never before had cause to hit a man more than once.” Her bracers vibrated to alert her to the presence of someone walking up to her. Their footsteps on the stone floor helped as well.
“Dessert, miss?” a waiter asked her politely.
She smiled. Dessert. What a novel concept. It wasn’t anything they were ever given in the temple. “Yes, please.”
“What would you like? We have chocolate mousse, strawberry shortcake, and a raspberry truffle.”
It would be bad manners to ask for all three, I expect.
“Leave the tray,” Nero answered before she could make up her mind.
She tried not to laugh. She failed. She heard the waiter place the tray down on the table and leave them. “The whole tray, really? Just for the two of us?”
“Kema will be back eventually to make sure I haven’t done anything to terrible to you. She’s already protective of you, I can tell. I think she’s adopted you as a sister. It’s going to be annoying.” He grunted and reached over her, plucking something off the tray. He picked up her hand and placed it into her palm. A small cup. “This is the raspberry truffle.”
“Thank you.” She lifted it and smelled it. From that alone, she knew it was going to be amazing. It was small and designed to be the kind of morsel that could be enjoyed in proper conversation. Now she was rather grateful he had the waiter leave the tray. Biting into it, she moaned quietly. It was all smooth textures and amazing flavors. Dark chocolate and bright tangy fruit. Bitter and sweet in a perfect balance. “By Hera, that’s incredible.”
Nero was silent for a very long time. She froze, not knowing what she had done. Or if she had offended him. When he finally broke the pause, his voice was thick. Low, dark, and sultry. It was filled with need. “I want you to make that noise again.”
She felt warmth creep over her cheeks, and she turned her face away shyly. “I’m sorry, I—” She squeaked as he moved. Before she could react, he was sitting at her back again, his face hovering close to her hair, brushing the strands. “Nero—”
He shushed her. He reached over her, his arm brushing hers, and plucked something off the tray again. “Open your mouth, Hope.” His voice was a rumble that rolled through her. It did things to her she didn’t want to understand.
She felt her jaw tick. This is wrong. This is dangerous. This is the wine talking. I do not want to do this.
“Go on…don’t be scared,” he purred, his breath washing over her cheek. His voice lowered to a whisper, close to her ear. “I want to hear you moan again. I want to watch you experience bliss. I want to bring you pleasure. Open your mouth.”
“Nero, leave her alone.”
Kema.
He sighed heavily. Just as soon as he was there, he was gone. He leaned back on the chaise lounge. He nudged her hand with his fingers, and she opened her palm. He placed something into it. Another small chocolate of some kind.
“You never let me have any fun, Kema.”
“That’s my job.”
Hope didn’t know if she was relived…or disappointed. But now she needed to finish that damn glass of wine.
6
Nero eventually made some kind of speech. Some manner of blah-blah-blah, thank you for coming, give it up our new religious advisor, and so on. Drivel. It was a distraction that was checking a box on a list of things that was keeping him from staying at Hope’s side. As soon as he was done, and he watched the poor girl blush eight shades of crimson at the polite applause, he retreated with her back to where they had been seated before.
The night wound down as the hours stretched on into the early morning. Or late into the night. Nero was never quite sure. He never cared. He usually went to bed with the dawn and woke up late in the morning. Or early afternoon.
Time was relative, right?
Soon it was just him, Kema, the servants, and Hope. He had watched her talk