Broken Dove
Page 34

Now, he was forced to endure my presence and he was doing it as a kindness to me so I wouldn’t have to be around the this world children I couldn’t have in mine.
So he was arrogant and autocratic. He was the head of an aristocratic line in this world. What did I know of how they behaved? He was the only one I knew. Hell, others might even be worse than him.
And, truth be told, if I thought about it (which I hadn’t until then), his men said something about him.
Actually, if I really thought about it, Apollo had often displayed a sense of humor and he definitely displayed a sense of duty. He was clearly intelligent. He was also generous. There were reasons he inspired loyalty from those men, especially the ones from different Houses. They didn’t have to stay with him.
And he’d been displaying those reasons since the night I met him.
Chiefly, him traveling to another world to save me from Pol.
Okay, so this world was living under the threat of misfortune raining down on it through witchy she-gods.
But the misfortune Pol had rained down on me was pretty danged bad and it threatened to last a lifetime.
And I was safe from that.
Forever.
Because of Apollo.
So what did I have to be a bitch about?
I pulled off my fabulous fur cape (another reason not to be a bitch, seriously, it was awesome), moving to the table to throw it over a chair, thinking I was going to have to sort myself out.
This wasn’t easy on either of us. There was no reason to make it harder.
I tossed my cape over the chair and was about to move to my trunk when I noticed on the table that the wine and glasses were gone. In their place were a teapot and two teacups.
My head tipped to the side as I stared at it.
It wasn’t unusual for the finer establishments to have a pot of tea or a bottle of brandy waiting for you in your room when you came up from dinner.
But usually, you ordered it.
Maybe when Apollo was downstairs without me, he’d ordered it.
The thing was that the teapot and cups were made of fine china, embellished with gold engravings around which were beautiful emerald green designs. In my experience of that world, this was not something an inn like that would have.
“Maybe they pull out the good stuff when the gentry come to call,” I murmured, reaching out a hand to lift the top off the teapot.
I did this because I was curious. I didn’t intend to drink it. I needed to get to sleep, and fast, hopefully before Apollo showed, and the tea here had caffeine in it.
But the top dropped with a clatter to the table when I released it in surprise as a soft glow emanated from the pot.
“What the…?” I whispered, leaning in and peering closer.
Yep. There it was. A soft glow.
A pretty soft glow.
“How weird,” I murmured, unafraid because I’d spent over four months in that world and I’d seen some amazing stuff, all of it beautiful, so at that point glowing tea didn’t faze me.
I hooked my fingers around the delicate handle, lifted it to my nose and took a sniff.
“Wow,” I breathed.
It smelled divine. Like peppermint mixed with licorice and vanilla.
It was clear this was herbal tea and I wondered if they provided it to soothe you and help you get to sleep. Or if Apollo had ordered it for that reason.
The one thing I knew, that smell was certainly soothing.
And I could use some soothing. I could also use some warm in my belly. The fire was great but I’d learned in my time in Lunwyn that I wouldn’t be warm and toasty until I was under the covers.
I put the top back on the pot and poured a cup, grinning in fascination as I noted the glitter dancing in the tea.
No wonder it glowed.
I took a cautious sip and closed my eyes slowly.
Bliss.
I then took a not-cautious sip, enjoyed it immensely and put the cup down. I moved to the bed, pulled up my skirts and tugged off my boots. I was also wearing tights of a fine, soft cream wool. I pulled those down too.
And felt them slide magnificently across every inch of my skin.
Although that hadn’t happened the times I’d done it before, I wasn’t surprised. The wool of my tights wasn’t cashmere, but its softness was close. And it was warm, so it wasn’t a surprise the coolness of the room hitting my legs when I lost that warmth made me tremble.
I went to my trunk, unlocked it and threw it open, tossing the tights inside and grabbing a nightgown that I’d laid on top.
It was unfortunate at this juncture with the sleeping arrangements that all my nightgowns were awesome, as in awesomely sexy. But I was hoping to be under the covers before Apollo saw one.
I went back to the table and nabbed the cup, taking two more quick sips as I walked back to the bed. I tossed the nightgown on the bed to free my hands to take off my dress, but when I’d done that, I didn’t take off the dress.
I wrapped both hands around the warm cup and drank more of that heavenly tea.
Then more.
And I did this because I suddenly wasn’t sipping tea.
I was experiencing it, an explosion on my taste buds and a warmth that spread through me from inside to out.
My eyelids got heavy as I took another sip and became vaguely conscious of every inch of my skin. This was because it was tingling in a way I really liked. I took one hand from the cup and wrapped it around my belly to hold myself as I experienced it.
“Fabulous,” I whispered, lifting the cup and drinking in more.
Suddenly, my legs were restless, moving without me telling them to. My knees went back and forth, rubbing my thighs together, the friction warming them and sliding up between my legs, an area I noted just then was drenched with wet.
“Oh God,” I breathed, looking into the glittering dregs of the tea.
This wasn’t right.
My hand moved from my waist over to my belly and down and I couldn’t stop it.
God, I had to touch myself, now.
I swallowed and put the cup down. Lifting my other hand to my hair, I pulled out the ribbon that held it in a ponytail at the nape of my neck. The fall of my hair drifting across my back was vague through the cashmere of my dress, but I still felt it sear through me, making my ni**les hard. So hard they were aching.
“Oh God,” I whispered, knowing something in that tea was making me feel this way.
But it was too late.
My hand at my belly moved down to cover the juncture of my legs.
Apollo was coming back at any moment, but I had to touch myself.
I had to.
Or better, find someone to touch me.
Oh yes.
Find someone to touch me.
It had been years. Years.
On that thought, I moved my hands to the sides of my skirts, clenched them into the material and pulled up.