Page 83 of A Touch of Poison
And yet.
Neither of us walked away, locked together by our gazes.
Not until a knock sounded at the door, and it was as though my ears popped and I could hear again.
Bastian straightened, a muscle in his jaw rippling as his fist closed around the necklace. “Enter.” It was Business Bastian who spoke, all clipped and formal.
I dragged my attention from him and took my time pulling on the second glove.
“Well, don’t you two make a gorgeous couple?” Rose surveyed us, smile wide.
“We aren’t…” I muttered.
Faolán’s gaze flicked across the small space between us.
Bastian backed away. “Right. I thought Katherine would want an escort for the party. But I see she already has company.”
“Oh, no. You don’t escape that easily.” Rose blocked the doorway.
“Faolán.” Bastian raised an eyebrow at him.
“Hmm. We’ve already discussed it, little flower.” He disentangled himself from her. “It’s best if I escort Kat.”
I should’ve expected it. I shouldn’t be hurt by it. And yet the rejection stung me.
It was sensible. All eyes would be on me. Walking in on Bastian’s arm would only make it look like there was something between us.
So I plastered on a wide smile and gave Faolán a playful bow before checking my gloves and only then placing my hand in the crook of his elbow.
Without looking at us, Bastian offered his arm to Rose, and we set off for a party in my honour.
I felt a lot of things in that moment. Honoured wasn’t one of them.
32
Bastian
With Rose on my arm, I watched Faolán escort Kat to the party and slammed every door in my mind against the memory of the last party we’d attended together. Thankfully, she wore more this time. Fine lace covered the low back of her gown, but I’d still seen how she reacted to my touch.
And I’d felt an answering call in my bones.
Our time on the road had made me weak. Giving her that ring had been foolish, filling my head with all sorts of stupid ideas. I could so easily have kissed her.
And she might’ve let me.
Somehow, despite everything, she wanted me; physically at least. The only thing worse than her not wanting me was the thought that if I asked—if I led her to a quiet corner of this party—she might let us finish what we’d started in Albion.
I wasn’t sure I was a strong enough, a good enough man to not follow through with that. But I knew I didn’t deserve to. I hadn’t earned that right—that forgiveness.
I certainly couldn’t afford to let others see how much I wanted it and her.
That left me with only one option: distance.
Chin lifted, eyelids drooping with boredom, I sauntered through the first chamber. In my nostrils, her magic was sweet and sharp, like something delicious that I’d adore right up until the moment it killed me.
Drink of all kinds and the faint woody scent ofsairsasmoke surrounded us. Thank the fucking gods we didn’t have to drinkarianmêlthis time, or I really would have been lost.
Someone sang, sweet and slow like honey. Dozens of conversations bubbled below that, low and intimate.
