“Of… of course,” she replied.
“Excellent,” he muttered, gave me another squeeze to get my attention, I looked at him and he commanded, “Now give me a kiss before I go.”
I tilted my head to the side and teased, “Earning my French toast?”
His brows drew together. “Your what?”
“French toast,” I replied, tipped my head to the table and his gaze followed, “breakfast.”
His eyes came back to me, they moved over my face, something I didn’t understand working behind them then he corrected, “Custard toast, Cora.”
“Custard toast?”
“That’s what we call it.”
“Oh,” I whispered.
Yum. That sounded way better.
“Sweets,” he called and I focused on him. “My kiss.”
Feeling Perdita’s eyes on us, I got up on my toes, touched my mouth to his and intended to give him a chaste kiss but his head slanted, he leaned into me, his mouth opened over mine and chaste was a fleeting memory.
I was breathing heavily when his head lifted.
“Don’t get into any trouble,” he warned.
“I won’t,” I panted.
He grinned. Then he stated, “I’m not jesting, be good.”
My head tilted in confusion. “I’ll be good.”
“Like a princess would be good,” he clarified and I felt my eyes narrow.
Then I snapped, “Tor!”
“Cora,” he returned.
“All I can be is me,” I informed him, he stared at me then he sighed.
Then he turned his head to Perdita and announced, “My wife can be stubborn and she gets things in her head. If she tries to save a wounded bird, invite every innkeeper in the city to dinner or the like, stop her. You have my permission.”
“Tor!” I cried, trying to pull away but he pulled me back.
“You’re a princess; you’ve got to stop being so damned friendly.”
“You didn’t complain about how friendly I was last night, three times,” I returned only to hear Perdita gasp.
Crap!
My head whipped around to Perdita and I babbled, “I’m sorry. So sorry. So, so, so, so sorry. That was rude. I shouldn’t –”
“It’s fine,” she cut me off, her dour expression gone, she was, dear God, was I seeing things right? She was smiling and it was glowing. “Perfectly fine.” She bustled to the door repeating, “Perfectly fine.” She stopped at the door and looked at me. Then she floored me by finishing, “I’m glad to see, your grace, that this time you’re more yourself.” Her eyes flitted to Tor then to me, then she lifted a hand and called merrily, “Cheerio!” and she disappeared.
I blinked at the door.
“What’s this about being more yourself?” Tor asked and I looked up at him.