As they headed for the cottage.
Her gut twisted just slightly. She was no prude. She knew what was coming and didn’t fear it. Nine other females waiting for them. Nine naked and ready females. For Casworon, a typical Saturday night. But she would be in the middle of it. Sharing him. Perhaps even being instructed by him to touch someone besides himself. It wasn’t what she wanted. And yet, it was all she’d been offered.
“You are quiet, Elia?”
She turned to look at him, and inwardly sighed when she did. He was breathtakingly handsome in the moon’s light. Dark, foreboding, sensual and mythic. “I am only thinking.”
“About what?”
“You,” she said, then smiled when his brow lifted provocatively. “How you left the ball without a word to anyone.”
He looked confused. “I am Master. I don’t need to inform anyone of anything.”
“I know, but…wasn’t this ball to announce your mating?”
A muscle in his jaw tensed. “It was.”
“I heard no announcement. Saw no mate.”
“That’s because all I wanted you to see was me.”
A frustrating, evasive and deliciously wonderful answer. “But you saw her?” she pushed, unsure why she was pushing. “Were introduced to her?”
“Yes,” he ground out.
“Did you find her beautiful?”
“She was acceptable.” He reached out then and cupped her face. “Stop asking these questions. I don’t like speaking of her to you.”
“Why?” she asked breathlessly. His fingers on her skin…his warm touch…
“She means nothing.”
“How can you say that?” she countered. “She’s going to be your mate. Isn’t that everything?”
“Not to me,” he said flatly, jerking away.
What was she doing? Why was she trying to ruin this? One night, Lia. For heaven’s sake. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.”
“It’s not any of my business. You owe me no explanation. And yet I…” She trailed off. Just stop talking. Stop right now if you want this night to end well. If you want this night to end with his touch, his kiss, him inside you.
But Casworon Trevanion was trying to read her expression. “What, Elia? What is it?”
She shook her head. She couldn’t tell him that all she wanted was him alone. No other females. Just one night. And then he could and would go back to his full bed.
The carriage came to a slow halt, and Cas announced with husky intensity, “We’re here.”
Lia turned, expecting to see the massive cottage alight with lamp glow and the faces of beautiful, eager females in the windows. But that wasn’t at all what met her gaze. In fact, she wasn’t sure where on the massive estate they were. She hadn’t been paying attention as they drove along.
“This isn’t—” she started, then stopped.
Cas had stepped down from the carriage and was offering her his hand. “Isn’t what?”
“Well…” she stumbled, stepping down. “I…it isn’t what I expected.” Why weren’t they at the cottage? Were the females here instead? Had plans changed?
“If it’s not pleasing…” Cas began tightly.
“No,” she said at once. Her eyes moved over every inch of the converted greenhouse that was expertly concealed by blooms and trees and lit by torches and firelight. “It’s incredible.” She turned to him, her eyes brilliant with pleasure. “It’s perfect.”
The grin that broke on Master Casworon Trevanion’s face was contented and dynamic, and stunningly rare.
CHAPTER FIVE
Cas knew that his about-face, his abrupt change of plans, would no doubt strip him of the title of Incubus Master. To abandon ten ready females for one? Unheard of. Almost human-like.
His lip curled at the thought as he led Elia inside the small greenhouse he’d frequented as a young male, then had converted to living quarters just a few years ago. Up until this moment, it had been his refuge. Where he’d gone to think and relax and mourn. Never had he brought a female here. It was near-sacred space. And yet he had texted Pennice as the carriage was being ordered, canceled the night at the cottage and ordered his greenhouse readied.
The Watchman should’ve been confused by the command, but Pennice hadn’t sounded the least bit surprised. In fact, he’d been downright pleased.
What the hell was that about? Cas wondered.
“This place is so beautiful,” Elia remarked as he led her through the sumptuous living area with its comfortable furnishings, lush plants, roaring fireplace, and walls and ceilings of glass. “I had no idea it was even here.”
“That’s exactly how I wanted it,” he said. “Absolute privacy. This is the kitchen.” He pointed out the small, functional space with a brick oven and stainless appliances. “Not all that grand, but it does the job.”
She turned to stare at him. “Do you cook?”
He laughed. “Is that such a strange concept?”
“Yes,” she returned, picking up on his laughter. “Because I was always under the impression that Incubi don’t eat.”