Heart Search (35 page)
“A lot of things we haven’t discussed,” Camellia said, then popped the food into her mouth. She recognized the nutty-tasting cheese, wonderful and too expensive for her personal budget.
“How serious do you want this affair to be?”
Camellia choked, forced the now tasteless cheese down her throat.
Laev thumped her back until she was breathing easily. Then he put his hand on her chin and turned her head to meet his amused gaze. “Yes, me, too. Not serious.”
Breath whooshed from her. “No, not serious.”
“But if we’re seen a lot together, particularly by people who know our circumstances . . .”
“From the way I was treated at tea, I think some of your Family and Residence might have guessed,” she said.
“There will be considerable pressure for us to formalize our connection.”
The very thought of watching eyes, gossip, rumors, made her want to leap to her feet and run. Since the link between them was wide open and the flow of emotion back and forth told her that he was in agreement with her, she stayed where she was. “No,” she said. “We’ve . . . just met. I’m not ready for more.”
“No,” he agreed. “I want to be private with you. Not ready for more.” He kissed her temple. “My Family and Residence would have huge expectations, what of your friends?”
“They might tease. Tiana—the priestess—might push a little. Glyssa—the librarian—will be curious, but on the whole they would leave us to be ourselves.”
“Nice.”
“They are. Very.” She thought of something else, smiled wryly. “I’ll be changing my sparring schedule with Lemongrass back to what it was.”
“He’s an amiable man,” Laev said.
“Yes.”
There were yowls, then two cats were there, nosing around their plates and the basket. Mica hopped onto Camellia’s lap.
When do We move into Brazos’s Residence?
demanded Mica.
When do We move into Brazos’s Residence?
demanded Mica.
When will the architect come to remodel Our rooms? I want a bigger room!
stated Brazos.
stated Brazos.
I want a room bigger than Brazos’s.
You can’t have that. MY FamMan is GREATLORD!
Brazos said.
Brazos said.
I can!
Mica insisted.
Mica insisted.
“However,” Camellia said drily, “our Fams may be a problem.”
“Quiet!” Laev commanded.
The cats sat and stared at him. He’d taken on the manner of the highest Nobleman. A tingle of wariness slid over Camellia’s skin. Definitely not ready to give up her independence. Only ready to explore sex with Laev, and some time out of bed with him.
Laev continued, “Camellia and Mica will be staying in her house. Brazos and I will be at T’Hawthorn Residence. We will take this association very slowly.”
But you are HeartMates!
Mica complained.
Mica complained.
Laev’s jaw went hard. “We will
not
be using that word.” With a gesture, Mica vanished with a screech.
not
be using that word.” With a gesture, Mica vanished with a screech.
Brazos growled, then he, too, vanished.
“Sent them outside the estate pigsty,” Laev said, then, “I apologize. I should not have teleported your Fam away.”
“Apology accepted,” Camellia said. “It’s a lot quieter without them.” She added thoughtfully, “And I think only a demonstration would have shut them up.”
“And keep them in line,” Laev said.
“I suppose so.”
He rolled until they were face-to-face. “This is new to me.”
“Me, too.”
Inclining his head, he smiled, then said, “Slow.”
“Slow,” she agreed.
“Private.”
“Private,” she repeated. Again with the terms, but since they were in accord, she didn’t mind.
“Which means discreet.” He pushed hair away from her face. “And that means a little planning if we want to be together but keep gossip and expectations at a minimum. Open your mouth.” Again he held cheese on a tiny cracker. This time the wafer had poppy seeds and the cheese had streaks of wine.
She ate the bite and chewed slowly, humming with pleasure. He offered her more wine and the clash and complementary tastes made her close her eyes to savor. She sighed at the pleasure of the moment.
When she lifted her lashes, she saw his intent gaze focused on her. And a blush heated her cheeks as she noticed a flush of desire along his cheekbones.
He leaned toward her and kissed her, and they were falling over on the blanket and the scent of herbs from the soft cloth and the ocean and the summer flowers made her dizzy.
Or maybe it was just Laev.
He rolled back and took her with him, and she could feel that his body wasn’t exactly in “planning an affair” mode. More like acting.
“Plenty of time and ways to figure out being discreet,” she murmured, kissing him on the mouth, sliding along him so their sexes met.
He groaned. “Plenty of times and ways to have sex.”
And that was the last time they spoke.
Later, they sat and fed each other and it was easy and so lovely her heart hurt. A good beginning to an affair.
T
he rest of the week, they met every night, usually made love in her
house, though once it was at the pavilion and once on the beach itself. She was achingly happy at the newness of an attentive lover.
he rest of the week, they met every night, usually made love in her
house, though once it was at the pavilion and once on the beach itself. She was achingly happy at the newness of an attentive lover.
On the morning of Playday, when she was talking to customers in Darjeeling’s Teahouse, her perscry in her sleeve pocket jingled the small lilting tune she’d assigned to Laev. She excused herself to return to her office, closed her door, and sat behind her desk.
She knew she was wearing a silly smile when she answered, “Here.”
“Greetyou, dearest.”
The affectionate term warmed. No one had ever called her one with true affection.
“Greetyou.”
“I called to ask you to the Birches’ party tonight.”
A FirstFamily party. That stopped her lungs. But she pushed enough breath out to say, “Discreet?”
He smiled and his eyes sparkled. “That’s the fun of it. A masquerade party.”
All the romantic images such words conjured tumbled through her head. Scented gardens under a sky of glowing twinmoons and blazing stars. Laev as a handsome stranger who made the blood pulse hot in her veins . . . her lover masked and dangerously seductive.
Fun, eating, dancing, and more. It was the
more
as well as the mystery that appealed the most.
more
as well as the mystery that appealed the most.
He looked so pleased! Was being around people as a couple important to him? She wasn’t even used to being a couple. That would take a few months. Sadly she realized she’d never been a couple with anyone, only a part of a good-friends trio.
Even as she watched, the pleasure was dimming from his eyes, the lines in his face getting more serious. Had he offered amusements to Nivea and she’d turned them down? Of course.
Hurt slithered through Camellia that he’d been with another woman. That Camellia kept thinking of Nivea. That Nivea had hurt Laev.
Camellia had just better get used to accepting there would be twinges of pain as they tried things as a couple for the first time. Did things they might have with other lovers.
“You surprised me. Thanks for the invitation,” she said, beginning to think of what she could wear.
“But?”
“But nothing. I want to go.”
Delight flashed in his eyes, but his smile was slower, approving, lingering. “Wear something sexy.”
She raised her brows. “You, too.”
“I’ll come by with a glider—”
“No, I’ll meet you there. I’d like to arrive separately . . . your mysterious date.” She bobbed her eyebrows but was thinking rapidly. Noble Country. The public carriers didn’t go through that part of town very often.
His smile moved into a grin. “I’ll send a glider for you.”
“What?” She stared.
He shrugged. “I bought a couple of new ones. No coat of arms on the doors. Smallish, two seaters. Pretty much fully automated.” He lowered his lids and smoldered. “I am at the Birches on the portico when a masked, beautiful woman steps from the glider . . .”
Oh, they were into the game of the masquerade already.
“. . . I am dazzled. For the night. Forever.”
He was moving pretty damn fast, being swept up in the romance of dreams. He’d had such dreams once, she knew, had tried to fulfill them. For her, relationship dreams had always been illusions and fantasies.
“All right,” she whispered. “What time?”
“The glider should reach your house by DinnerBell. The ride to the Birches will take twenty minutes.”
“Where you’ll be waiting.”
“Oh, yeah.” He picked up a piece of papyrus. “I have the invitation.” His lips pursed in a small kiss. “Later.”
“Later.”
Ooooh, the Birches.
Mica grinned wide and slicked a paw over her ear.
Brazos is going, too. Invitation only for Fams.
She flexed her whiskers, groomed them.
We don’t often get to explore Birches. They have spellshields against Fams.
Mica grinned wide and slicked a paw over her ear.
Brazos is going, too. Invitation only for Fams.
She flexed her whiskers, groomed them.
We don’t often get to explore Birches. They have spellshields against Fams.
“Is that so?”
Yes. There was an unfortunate incident with a dog.
“Ah. Want me to make sure Laev knows that you’ll be coming?”
Brazos will tell him.
“All right.”
I think there is a fishpond.
“High excitement.”
“Yesss.”
Throughout the rest of the day, Camellia had to forcibly wrench her mind back to her tasks—and she had a conference with her managers telling them that she was working on a new project and would be in the teahouses less.
Aquilaria retorted that she hoped the project was male, it was about time. And her other manager stated that having a gallant looked good on Camellia. She flushed but said nothing more, just smiled through the rest of the discussion about scheduling. Then, her worries eased about the functioning of her business, and on a surge of exuberance, she and Mica teleported to Clovers’ Fine Furniture.
Once there, they swept into the shop and over to the wardrobes, and stopped. The one Camellia had liked in the window was still there, but it had an additional box attachment specifically for Fams along with a quilted pillow on the top. She and Mica oohed and aahed together, and a salesman convinced them to special-order one. They settled on a different piece with a bit more fancy carving. Out of Mica’s hearing, Camellia ordered special knobs that stymied FamCats. She had no intention of coming home one day and finding Mica settled on an inner shelf where she intended to keep her silkeen shawls.
That evening she ate sparsely, wanting nothing too heavy in her stomach, her excitement was so great. She’d considered various different costumes and finally decided to wear an outfit that she’d purchased for a Bright Brigid’s Day fair a couple of years ago. It was a long dress with no trous and no long sleeve pockets. Instead, the sleeves were slightly bloused with tight wrists. Over the dress, she wore a traditional cook’s apron that was rarely seen outside any kitchen. It had a large bib, was tied in the back with strings, and had a series of different-sized pockets around the waist. The dress itself was a light beige, the apron a darker brown. She also had an ancient chef’s hat in dark brown.
At the fair, she’d brought packets of blended teas and various flatsweets that would complement the drinks. It had been a month after she’d opened up Darjeeling’s Teahouse, and giving away the tea and flatsweets had been extremely good advertising.
From a drawer, she’d riffled through the few masks she had and found a simple black one that covered her upper face and molded over her nose. Perfect.
She was bathed and dressed and sitting in her mainspace waiting for the glider to come when Mica gave a little cough.
Camellia looked down at her Fam. “Yes.”
I have no costume.
Twenty-four
Y
ou’re a calico cat,” Camellia said to Mica. “You always look like you
have a costume on.”
ou’re a calico cat,” Camellia said to Mica. “You always look like you
have a costume on.”
Mica sniffed and Camellia knew that her answer had not been sufficient. She could be dramatic, too. She let her breath out in a long-suffering sigh. “What do you think would be a costume for you? Especially if you consider that you might be fishing in a pond?” Camellia narrowed her eyes. “I’ve seen some really cute little FamCat hats.”
No. Collar.
Camellia indulged in another sigh. “We’ve had this conversation. No Fam collar yet.”
I would like a collar with a feather.
A small sense of warning had Camellia’s neck tingling. “Have you already found this collar?”
It’s almost made.
With a whistling breath, Mica translocated a glittery gold garter and a fat blue feather. She’d been observant when Camellia had opened her small costume chest. The garter would never grace Camellia’s thigh over leggings again. She glanced at the timer. “We might just get this done for you before the glider comes.” Working fast, she measured the gold sequined garter around Mica’s neck, attached the blue feather that curled over the cat’s head, and mended the edges with Flair.
With a whistling breath, Mica translocated a glittery gold garter and a fat blue feather. She’d been observant when Camellia had opened her small costume chest. The garter would never grace Camellia’s thigh over leggings again. She glanced at the timer. “We might just get this done for you before the glider comes.” Working fast, she measured the gold sequined garter around Mica’s neck, attached the blue feather that curled over the cat’s head, and mended the edges with Flair.
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