Chapter Ideal First Impressions
“Do you speak at all?” Raese queried.
Pretty blue eyes assessed him coolly. Dangerously.
She’s a heap of trouble. Clearly smarter than she likes to let on.
The flicker of intelligence was obvious in the calm way she watched him. Unpanicked in even this precarious situation.
A situation where I could try to hurt her.
But she’s not afraid of me. Uncomfortable but unafraid.
Her features were just interesting enough to be beautiful. With full lips, a perfectly straight nose, Wide alert eyes flickered with intelligence and her circular face made her seem more likely to be a Dread then a mortal.
Meeting his look steadily, she flicked the last strap back off her shoulder, letting it fall near her elbow before sliding the fabric down her arm.
He groaned at the sight of inch by inch of exposed, rounded flesh. Wondering if he was dreaming.
Good God. Don’t interrupt me if I am. Body tense he waited for it to slip lower.
“What are you?” He gasped. Trying desperately, and failing, to rip his eyes from her skin.
When the fabric slid down just far enough to expose the pert tip of one still-damp globe, he groaned low in his throat and turned on his heel. He heard a tiny sound that may have been a single broken giggle.
“Are you a Siren? Trying to lure men to their deaths?”
He heard a splash and nothing further. Surely, she didn’t fall?
He shifted booted feet. She’s just swimming. Not drowning, Fool. He was high tempted to return to see if she needed help.
I really just want to turn around. He admitted to himself. Finally, unable to resist he spun and found her fully clothed in the green riding dress. An enticing glimpse of laced stocking peered just above her high boot revealed by a high split. Her gaze steady on him. Hair, which was nearly dry already, pouring around her face.
Or had it ever been wet?
“You get dressed miraculously fast.”
Disappointingly.
Without a word she harshly tugged on her other glove and cinched the laces running up her forearm.
“Will you say a word to me, Pretty Woman?”
Her eyes flicked up only briefly, focusing on those laces.
Apparently not.
“I feel exhausted from listening to all your meaningless prattle.” He teased.
She paused, and her eyes slid back to him. One corner of her mouth hitching in what could be humor at his words before she spun to stride in the direction of the trees. Shaking her head as though he were a foolish child.
“Wait! You don’t have to go.” He found himself trailing after her. “My friend tells me you’re a Dread?”
She spared him only a cursory glance as she veered around a stump and over a fallen log.
He stumbled after her. Clumsily clopping along.
What happened to my usual animal grace? I sound like a stag in rut. He was disgusted with himself.
“What’s your name?”
She didn’t acknowledge that question.
Okay, no name.
“Where’d you come from?”
Nothing.
“Why do you watch us?”
“You’re destroying my forest.” She said in a voice so pure it was nearly childlike.
What?
“You can speak.”
She gave him a dark look over her shoulder. “When something warrants the saying.”
“Were you trying to tempt me?”
She said nothing.
“Apparently that question doesn’t warrant the answering.” He groaned. Adjusting himself at the mere thought of her dropping that strap on her chemise.
Focus fool.
“Why is Feglen your forest?”
“You should consider it your forest. You’re here as much as I.” She said dismissively. Stepping over logs as she delved deeper into the trees.
“What are you?” He struggled to keep up.
“What are you?” She spun around, and he jerked to a stop nearly nose-to-nose with her. Noting she was tall for a woman.
I’m not telling you that.
When he didn’t answer she eyed his bare chest and stomach. “Where are your clothes?”
“Don’t you like what you see?”
Without another word, she commenced her rapid stride. Ducking a branch.
Unfortunately, his reflexes were dulled, and that same branch caught him square across the head. Knocking him back to land roughly on his backside.
And he remained there. Like a lovestruck child.
Raese awoke to the present, panting heavily. Still feeling the mortification of her rejection and his ungainliness in pursuing her.
Horrifying, really.
Pleasant as the rest of the dream had been, he didn’t care to return to that moment. No need to continue that display. He cringed at the mere thought. Grateful to see his servants had brought in tea, this morning.
Raese noticed he breathed heavily and was coated in sweat.
The smell of damp grass and dirt was gone. Just the slight scent of dust and the aroma of eggs cooking downstairs.
The smell of a cold house.
Instead of a wild forest sprite.