That explained the fuzzy feeling in her head.
Grabbing the last two trays on the bottom rack, he brought them over and placed them on top of their empty dinner plates. Without waiting for her this time, he lifted the lid on his and picked up a golden fork to his left. Still, he didn’t take a bite, but met her gaze across the table. During the silence, some of his insufferable humor had come back, and along with it the challenging glint.
Opening her tray, she couldn’t help the slight smile at what she found.
A single slice of pumpkin pie was displayed, perfectly positioned in the center of the gold plate. It was roughly four inches across at the crust, tapering down to a perfect point. A huge swirl of lightly whipped cream topped it off.
The dessert on Trystan’s plate was different, a chocolate brownie-type pie with a chocolate crumble crust and a matching heaping of cream. He twirled the fork in his left hand, the light in his eyes only brightening with her reaction.
“I chose the right one,” he said, and nodded, pleased with himself. He must have noted the way she’d all but overlooked his pie for her own.
“Pumpkin pie is my favorite,” she tentatively divulged. Unable to resist, she picked up her own fork and cut a decent chunk off the end. “All fall things, really.”
It tasted like bliss in her mouth, and she struggled not to make the same moaning sound he had when he’d bitten into his burger. It was hard though, really hard, especially because he’d somehow managed to find the best damn pumpkin pie she’d ever had in her entire life. And she’d eaten a lot of pumpkin pie over the years.
She wanted to stop him when his arm stretched across the table, but figured he’d been the one to get the pie in the first place, so … She leaned back as he scooped some with his own fork, and watched as he brought it to his mouth. The widening of his eyes actually made her laugh.
“It’s good, right?” She took another bite. The sliding of metal across glass had her glancing up a second time, and she blinked when she found he’d pushed his plate toward her.
“So is this,” he said, as if she needed prompting, then waited patiently for her to try his dessert. When she had, he pulled it back, continuing to eat.
Slowly, she placed the fork into her mouth, the bittersweet taste of dark chocolate coating her tongue. She had to admit he was right: It was also very good. She wanted to ask where they’d gotten the ingredients, whether or not they actually had pumpkins and cocoa beans here on Xenith, but refrained. Making a note to ask Ruckus about it later, she finished off her pie.
“You should ask for it at your Uprising,” Trystan suggested, smirking at her now empty plate. “It’s still two weeks away; I’m sure the Basileus won’t mind changing the menu. I believe I was told the Basilissa had chosen gremming in your absence.” He made a face. “Dreadful. How they even call that a dessert here in Vakar is beyond me.”
She was still caught on the Uprising portion of his speech. What was it, and why was it happening in two weeks? Surely, if it was still on, the Basileus thought they’d have found Olena by then. That was good, wasn’t it?
That was all she’d have to survive, another two weeks at most, and then she could go back to Earth. That wasn’t so bad. She could manage until then, especially now that she’d gotten a burst of fresh hope.
“That’s an interesting choice.” Finished now with his dessert as well, he’d leaned back in his chair and was eyeing her outfit.
She’d worn what Ruckus had pulled from the closet, a ruby-red dress that hugged her curves in all the right ways. There was a layer of lace that made up the sleeves that went to her elbows, and while the original material only dropped a few inches down her thighs, a sheer skirt went the rest of the way, long enough to practically trail on the floor even in her three-inch black heels. The bottom part of the sheer material turned red once more, with it trailing upward to her shins in patterns that reminded her of flames.
While she’d been a bit uncomfortable with it at first, after Ruckus had shown her a few pieces from the rest of Olena’s closet, she’d immediately agreed with him. Apparently, the Lissa didn’t own anything longer than mid-thigh, and not a single pair of pants. There were a couple of shorts, but those were even shorter than the dresses had been.
Because of the type of table, Trystan was getting a perfect view of what might as well have been bare thigh, considering the sheer material. The neckline was also low enough that every time she’d bent toward her dish, she’d probably given him a decent look down the front. He knew about her black bra at that point, that was for sure.
Back home, Delaney hadn’t been a prude by any standard, but she wouldn’t have been caught dead in something this revealing, either. She’d even worn decent clothing to the club the other night. Up until this point, the room and the meal had distracted her, but now she felt her cheeks staining, and she uselessly smoothed her hands over her lap, leaving them there to cover as much bare skin as possible. Which wasn’t much at all.
If anything, her tiny hands only managed to make her legs appear longer, and she gritted her teeth, wondering if he saw the same thing.
The sudden spark of heat in his eyes killed any hope of that not being the case.
“Not any more so than what you went with,” she said, indicating his suit and trying to regain control of the situation.
“Are you a wolf in sheep’s clothing then, Lissa?” he asked. “That is how the Earth saying goes, isn’t it?”
For once his underlying threat actually made her more comfortable. They needed to get back to the two of them trading barbs, forget that this odd moment had ever happened.
“Well.” She pushed her chair back and stood, hoping her legs weren’t visibly shaking. “As great as this has been—”
“You’re afraid you must excuse yourself?” he teased, throwing her words from earlier at the Tandem back at her. He didn’t rise, remaining calm and relaxed in his seat. He was almost too relaxed.
“Are you mocking me?” she asked, despite the pressure in her chest urging her to just let it go and leave.
“Not at all.” He shook his head. “It took you longer than I expected to run.”
She bristled. “I’m not running.”
“Of course not,” he agreed in a tone that was clearly disingenuous. “You’d have nowhere to go, and you’re smart enough to know not to bother trying. Aren’t you, Lissa?”
“You’re threatening me.” Oh yeah, she totally should have left a minute ago instead of starting down this path. For a moment things between them hadn’t been so bad, but now that stealthy Zane from before had returned in full force.
This had been a mistake, a huge mistake. She needed to get out of there.