I’m proud of me.
Roarke puts his bottle down next to my leg, picking up his shirt from where he had draped it on the other side of him and slipping it on. Which only mildly settles the atmosphere.
Even though he’s slipped his shirt on, he’s not buttoning it up, instead letting it drape over his body to frame his chest and abs – a little seductive lift to the corner of his lips. For a guy who never kisses and tells and keeps every act of intimacy private, he freaking loves making everyone drool over him.
Which makes me feel a little less mean as I pinch dirt between my fingers and sprinkle it into his bottle. He leans down, picks up his bottle and goes for another full-head-back-long-slow-mouthful.
He sips – then spits the wine out in a wide spray.
Eyes go wide around us, and the soft conversation ceases. Everyone looks at Roarke in shock.
“Good Vexy,” Seth says, patting the top of my head like a puppy.
What is it with these guys and patting my head?
“Seth,” Roarke growls, wiping the remnants of dirt from his lips.
I try to smother my smile and act as surprised as everyone else – but fail.
“Yes, blame him,” I say, pointing up and over my shoulder at Seth.
Seth presses a bottle of Silvari wine into my hand – and I glimpse a warning glare from Pax before claiming it. This makes bottle number three. Clearly, two was my limit – which I apparently should have known without being told. Imminent drunk-Shade has put him on edge, but he’s forgetting this Shade is sitting inside an emptying hourglass. What have I got left? Days? Hours? I don’t want to think about it. I don’t want to feel about it.
But I do want to get wildly drunk on potent Silvari wine. I lift the bottle with every intention of emptying it in one long drink when Roarke grabs it.
“You can drink this one,” he says, trying to replace it with his.
“Mine,” I say, wrestling to keep the bottle pressed to my lips – which also involves some neck craning and lip stretching.
Half the women find this incredibly funny. Rose even chuckles. Some are confused, and Amber and Lara watch with pointed angry glares as I struggle to keep my wine, trying to devour it in as few gulps as possible and finally relinquishing the bottle to Roarke – empty.
“Kitten,” Roarke purrs. “That’s not nice.”
Chills run down my spine, my muscles responding to his tone. The deliberate kind. The sensation curls around my middle, melting me on the inside… making it hard to breathe. Hard to concentrate.
I slap my fist down on his toes. He hisses and pulls his foot away, breaking his power’s hold on me.
I don’t see the meat flying through the air, but at the last second Roarke snatches something out of the air and holds it down to me.
“You’re lucky I didn’t let it drop in the dirt,” he says.
Crap, he’s right. I am lucky.
Seth hands me another drink. Bottle number four.
I pop the cork but can’t suppress my triumphant smile, and I don’t want to – so I avoid Pax’s gaze altogether.
Wine in one hand, meat in the other, I alternate the two and lean back in comfortable bliss. Delicious, silky bliss.
My tongue rubs on the roof of my mouth, feeling a little heavy with the effects. My shoulders feel lighter, my breathing easier. Even the women around the fire look different, less threatening. It’s amusing.
“We’re drinking a year’s worth of the woman’s wine supply,” Rose says, taking a last sip before standing up and lifting her bottle to the sky. “To Eydis.”
“To Eydis,” everyone choruses, small round bottles raised, the red wine inside reflecting the fire’s light and their gazes looking solemnly from one Saber to another.
“We look forward to seeing you soon, Commander,” Rose adds, bowing low.
Her triune follows suit. Standing and bowing. Pax nods in reply – accepting the fealty like a cloak around his shoulders. He doesn’t stand or say anything, leaning forward with one hand pressed to his knee like he’s too good to even sit up straight as he acknowledges them.
He’s made for this role. Everything about him in this moment is demanding loyalty and respect, and it’s impossible to look away from.
Killian, Seth, and Roarke all get a bow too, and all accept it like being honored is normal. The way the world should turn.
Then Rose looks me in the eye and bows just as low in my direction. My heart chuckin' stops. Anxiously, I look past her to Pax – who’s smiling.
But this is not the way my world turns, and unlike my men, I respond with the best head-bow I can from my sitting-on-the-ground position.
“We’ll make another perimeter check with Eliijah’s men and be ready for you once you’ve finished eating,” Rose says to Teegan.
Which points out a big difference between the two groups. Rose is organized, precise, and quick. Teegan is more haphazard, in no rush, and doesn’t seem to care for perfection. Rose’s horses are saddled and ready to go, while Teegan’s are on long leads in the grass and nowhere near their stack of gear hanging over the fence. I like Rose more and more the longer I know her.
“Leave and return,” the group choruses.
“Salad to churn,” I mutter, then smother a snort at myself. No one else seems to notice, though.
“I’ll escort you,” Roarke says, standing and holding his hand out to Jada. “Pass the key.”
“Grass and pee,” I mumble. Thank god these ridiculous rhymes aren’t blurting out loudly – because Pax is right, drunk-Shade has brain-to-mouth issues. Well, bigger issues than normal.
“You have your own,” she snaps.
“Dog and bone.”
“We’ve locked the other two away. You now have the only one.”
“Please understand, I don’t like the idea of no one being able to get in here
