does feel guilty, Lena. He’s never gotten over it, whatever happened between you. I’m not saying you have to forgive him, but at least talk to him.”
Just then, the doors to the salon opened, music and the roar of the party crowd spilling in, along with Astar in huge grizzly-bear form, Rhyian as a black bear beside him, both of them upright on hind legs as they rolled an enormous cask into the room. Jak followed them, red-faced, hair mussed, walking slowly and stiffly as he carried a stack of clothing.
The four women stared at the sight. “Do we even want to know?” Lena said into the silence.
The two bears wrestled the cask upright to stand on one end, then the black bear vanished, becoming Rhyian in his basic black pants and loose shirt, the simple outfit he’d drilled in since childhood so he wouldn’t return to human form naked. He met Lena’s gaze with a crooked grin. “Suffice to say that Jak is an idiot.”
“We knew that,” Lena replied lightly, excruciatingly aware that these were the first words she and Rhyian had exchanged in seven years.
Rhyian smirked, his eyes still on hers. “You have no idea. Once we get dressed, we’ll tell you the whole story.”
He snatched his clothes and boots from Jak, who scowled. “Hey! You promised you wouldn’t tell.”
“In your dreams,” Rhyian retorted, prowling to the other side of a high-backed sofa and stripping off his shirt. His leanly muscled chest and back gleamed golden in the light of the many candles, their glow lovingly caressing the planes and angles of his long, gorgeous body.
Astar had returned to human form, too, his clothes a basic white tunic and blue pants. He shook his golden head. “If you ladies would please turn around?”
“Of course,” Zeph replied sweetly. The four women fanned out for the best view, watching steadfastly and sipping their drinks.
Astar gave Stella a pleading look. “I’m your brother, for Moranu’s sake.”
“Rhy isn’t,” she pointed out placidly. “And the Tala don’t worry much about modesty.”
“Then why is Rhy hiding behind the sofa?” Astar retorted, stalking that way to join him.
Rhyian shook back his hair as he straightened—clearly naked now, though Lena couldn’t see past the sofa any lower than the carved bones of his narrow hips. He slanted the women a wicked grin. “I don’t want the sight of my glorious nudity to make them faint,” he said. “We have a lot of drinking yet to do. Witness that enormous cask we nearly killed ourselves to bring in here.”
“I’m the one with the strained back,” Jak muttered.
“Whose fault is that?” Rhyian shot back, bending to work the tight black velvet pants up his long legs. Was her mouth watering? Lena was definitely feeling warm. Astar was also swiftly changing clothes, but he was mostly a golden blur compared to Rhyian’s crisply dazzling darkness.
“Let me help your back,” Stella said, going to Jak. His crimson clothes bore wet patches and smears of mud. “Between my brother and my cousin, it’s true that the show doesn’t do much for me.”
Jak blew her a soft kiss. “You are a true friend, Nilly. Marry me and be my love forever.”
Stella blushed lightly. “Don’t tease, Jak.”
“I feel I should point out that I’m not blood-related to anyone here,” Zeph announced.
“Me neither,” Gendra put in, with unusual boldness for her. The two toasted each other.
“Not that it matters,” Lena put in with some irritation, finally managing to wrench her gaze from Rhyian’s brilliant masculine beauty, “as none of us are here tonight for sex.”
They all turned and looked at her, even Astar, who’d just poked his head through the opening of his shirt. Zeph snorted, unapologetic gaze fastened on Astar’s bare abdomen. “Speak for yourself, Lena,” she purred.
Astar yanked his shirt down and pulled on his powder-blue velvet coat. “Lena is right. Tonight is for celebrating our enduring friendships, not indulging in lustful flirtation.”
“You were the ones putting on the naked man show,” Zeph pointed out.
“Out of necessity,” Astar replied tersely, then glared at Jak, who held his hands up in innocence—the gesture completely ruined by his roguish smile. Apparently restored to his usual agile fettle, he returned to busying himself with tapping the cask.
“I, for one,” Rhyian put in, gaze lingering on Lena as he pulled on his glossy boots, “would be perfectly willing to be a gentleman and entertain some turnabout, if the ladies care to put on a show for us.”
“Hear, hear!” Jak toasted with a goblet freshly filled with