FOREVER KNIGHTS: #9 Feral Breed

She peered up at him from under lowered lids. Wondering what the real reason he was upset with her tonight was.

Perceptive little thing.

“What is it you’d have of me, My Lord?”

You know the answer to that.

I’d have everything. Forever. He studied her a moment but didn’t answer. Finally sweeping an arm toward the far side of the room as he lifted his chin in that direction.

She huffed upon noting his gaze. Turning and looking, she was surprised to find an elaborate meal set out on a long table.

“I had it brought in.” He explained. “This is your sanctuary. I thought perhaps you might dine with me. Here.”

She eyed him warily. A quick glance over the banquet.

There are no strawberries. He was very aware she always watched for them.

“Please, partake.”

When she hesitated, he lowered his head and gave her a long look. “For Quandary?”

She hesitated, grimaced, and moved to the table to sit down jerkily.

Very excited. He thought dryly. He collected the crystal platter before her and began serving her. Knowing she’d understand the importance of the Lord of the castle serving her with his own hands. He placed bits of baked fish, roasted pork and pheasant stuffed with vegetables and seasonings on the platter. Glazed carrots and roasted potatoes were just some of the side dishes he proffered before filling her a glass of water.

“I’ve never seen such lovely dishes.” She inspected the shining silver dinnerware.

Frowning he glanced at the cutlery knife she examined before retrieving it and her fork. Followed by his own. All of which he locked in a cupboard above the desk.

“No eating utensils?” She quirked a lovely blonde brow.

Not imbedded in me, no.

“Not with your penchant for causing me bodily harm.” He skid out his chair, where his platter was already laden with food. “Can you honestly say you weren’t already considering stabbing me?”

She gave a grudging head tilt and began plucking apart her meat with delicate fingers.

She absolutely was. At least she’s not even denying it.

“However, I’d be more than happy to offer my assistance feeding you...”

Instantly, her eyes narrowed, and lip curled. She leaned forward as though she’d advise him of exactly what she thought of the offer. Instead, she said nothing, merely letting her glower speak for her.

A ‘no’ than.

She quickly consumed her glass of water. Body language hostile.

Rising, he refilled her drink under her watchful gaze. Taking his seat again, he returned to her comment about the dishes. “The utensils and goblets are hammered silver. The carafes and trenchers molded crystal. Melded over fire. Quite lovely, are they not?”

“I’ve never seen the like.” She admitted.

He felt her eyes on him. Studying his movements. Firelight played with some gold tones in the white of her hair. Making her seem to glow.

He itched to wind his fingers in its luxurious length. It’d be as soft as the rest of her.

“You’re eying me as though I’m the food.” Mouth tight, her brows drew together.

“I’d like you to be…”

Her frown deepened.

He lifted his goblet and took a hearty dram to cool himself.

“Why do you constantly mock me?”

He spit his drink out. “Mock you?”

That was a bit shrill.

He was annoyed to notice. “You think I jest about wanting to taste you?”

She thought a moment then raised her chin. “I’m certain. It’s a jest to you, at my expense.”

“It’s far from that, My Dear. I desire you fully. And would be more than willing to spend the duration of a fortnight, or longer, tending to whatever needs you could devise.”

Or fantasies. He leaned across the table to better allow her to read the sincerity in his turquoise eyes.

Her gaze roved his face intently before she lurched back in her chair. Skidding it from the table. “Stop!”

You can see how very serious I am. He knew.

He slapped a hand over hers at the table’s edge just as she moved to rise. “You’re an impossibly contrary woman Elsabet. You think I joke about your allure to demean you, yet you’re willing to sup with me. You realize I’m deeply serious instead, and you wish to flee affronted. How can I possibly not offend you?”

“By not speaking.” She slid her hand from under his and crossed them over her forearms at her chest, but she remained seated.

“And if I didn’t…”

She lifted a brow.

“Would you carry the conversation?” He challenged.

“Unlikely.”

“So…” He tilted his head to the side and gave her an intense study. “If I wish to have you at my table and exchange conversation with you, how do I go about it?”

“I haven’t any idea. I’ve never tried to converse with someone like me.”

“Consider yourself lucky. It’s damn near impossible somedays!” He declared. “What if I don’t ask you questions,” He raised a finger to slow her excitement as she scooted back to the table. “but if that’s the condition then you may not ask me any either, until one of us breaks said treaty.”

You will ask me a question. You always do…

Mouth open she paused before giving a quick nod and returning to her food.

You overestimate yourself.

He spoke to her softly about many minute things. The weather and how she was faring. He felt her strain mounting and knew the attempt at light conversation was short lived.

Elsabet was quick to interrupt. “What’s this about? Where’s Quandary?”

“Quandary is safe and sound. It is he, I wish to discuss.”

Elsabet tossed down another glass of water.

Clearly wishing it was something stronger. He refilled it.

She promptly drank that one as well. Heedless as the chair beneath her seemed to move of its own volition.

“There’s something you should know about your dear Quandary.”