"I'm not busy. I was just having a bite before I went to bed. At least you could sit with me while I ate, and
perhaps share a little of it with me? There's more here than I can eat—it would just go to waste."
She drew closer to him again, pressing against the table. "Well, it does look sumptuous . .. and if you aren't
going to eat it all ... maybe just a nibble, then."
Richard grinned. "What would you like? Stew, spiced eggs, rice, Iamb?"
At the mention of Iamb she let out a throaty murmur of pleasure. Richard threaded the gold-rimmed white
plate across the tray. He hadn't had any intention of eating the lamb himself; since the gift had awakened in
him he wasn't able to eat meat. Something to do with the magic at the time the gift manifested itself, or
perhaps it was as the Sisters had told him: all magic must be in balance. Since he was a war wizard, maybe
he couldn't eat meat in order to balance the killing he sometimes had to do.
Richard offered her the knife and fork. Smiling again, she shook her head and with her fingers picked up the
lamb chop. "Keltans have a saying that if it's good, nothing should come between you and the experience."
"Then I hope it's good," Richard heard himself say. For the first time in days he didn't feel lonely.
With her brown eyes fixed on his, she leaned forward on her elbows and took a dainty bite. Transfixed,
Richard waited.
"So ... is it good?"
In answer, her eyes rolled back in her head and her lids slid closed while she hunched her shoulders and
moaned in perfect rapture. Her gaze came down, restoring the torrid connection. Her mouth enveloped the
meat, and her flawless white teeth tore off a succulent chunk. Her lips were slick with it. He didn't think he
had ever seen anyone chew so slowly.
Richard pulled the doughy center of the bread in two, giving her the one with the most butter. With the crust,
he scooped rice out of the brown cream. His hand paused before his mouth as she took the butter off in one
long lick.
She let out a throaty purr of approval. "I love how soft and slippery it feels against my tongue," she explained
in little more than a whisper. From her glistening, dangling fingers, she let the chunk of bread drop to the
tray.
She watched his eyes as she dragged her teeth across the bone, gnawing along its ridge. With sucking
nibbles, she scoured the length clean. The piece of bread waited before Richard's mouth.
Her tongue stroked across her lips. "Best I've ever had."
Richard realized that his fingers were empty. He thought that he must have eaten the scoop of rice until he
saw the white splat on the tray under him.
She plucked an egg from the bowl, pressed her red lips around it, and bit it in
half. "Umm. Luscious." She placed the round end of the other half to his lips. "Here, try it."
Its silken surface had a mildly spicy tang against his tongue and a flexible, resilient feel. She pushed it all the
way in with one finger. It was chew or choke, He chewed.
Her gaze left his to roam the tray. "What have we here? Oh, Richard, don't tell me it's ..." She swirled her
first and second fingers around the bowl with the pears. She sucked the thick white sauce off her first finger.
Some of the coating on the other dribbled down her hand to her wrist. "Oh, yes. Oh, Richard, this is
fabulous. Here."
She put her second finger up to his lips. Before he realized it, she had the whole length in his mouth. "Suck it
clean," she insisted. "Isn't that the best you've ever had?" Richard nodded, trying to catch his breath after
she drew her finger out. She tilted her wrist. "Oh, please, lick it off before it gets on my dress." He took her
hand up in his and put it to his mouth. The taste of her galvanized him. His lips on her flesh made his heart
pound painfully.
She let out a throaty laugh. "That tickles. Your tongue is rough."
He let her hand go, rousing from the intimate connection. "Sorry," he whispered.
"Don't be silly. I didn't say I didn't like it." Her eyes found his. Lamplight glowed softly on one side of her face,
firelight on the other. He envisioned raking his fingers through her hair. Her breaths were the mate of his. "I
did like it, Richard."