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Her grin widened. “You had your people call ahead, made sure she was here even though this place is clearly closed.”
A flush of color crept its way across his cheeks. He shrugged nonchalantly, turning his attention to the artwork on the wall. “No need to make a big deal about it. As I’ve said, Winnie’s cafe has the best afternoon tea in the city. We were nearby, and it seemed like a good idea at the time. But if you would prefer to go…” he put his hands flat on the table as if he was about to get up.
Laughing, she clasped his wrist. “Relax, little cat. No need to get all hissy. I’m thrilled you brought me to meet Winnie, and I can’t wait to hear all the embarrassing stories she has about you.”
He scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “Maybe this wasn’t such a grand idea, after all.”
“Oh, no. We’re not going anywhere,” she said, keeping her hand on his wrist. “You promised me a delicious snack. Besides, you wouldn’t want to upset Winnie by leaving now, would you?”
“I would never,” he said, relaxing back into his chair.
“I didn’t think so.”
The beaded curtain clacked. “Tea’s ready,” Winnie said, wielding a pot of tea in one hand and a carousel of sugar and cream in the other. A younger version of herself carried out a full three-tier tray stacked with tiny sandwiches, warm scones, clotted cream, pots of jam, and a selection of bite-sized cookies.
“Lady Winnie, this looks delicious. Care to join us?” she asked, hoping to get some of those stories she could use to tease Zarin.
But Winnie shook her head. “Not today. Today is for new lovers to get even better acquainted.” She gave them a wink that had both of them blushing. “Seraiah, perhaps Zarin will entertain you with the story of the time he nearly caused an international incident over a grilled cheese and a cast iron pan. You were eight, I believe.”
He groaned. “Seven. And, no. She does not need to hear about that.”
“Oh, I need to hear that story now,” she said, pouring steaming tea into two cups. “Winnie, I’m sure you have so many wonderful stories about Zarin’s childhood.”
With a fond smile, Winnie squeezed Zarin’s cheek again, then leaned close to Seraiah. “You come see me later, and I’ll give you all the stories you need to blackmail him for the rest of your lives together.”
“Winnie,” Zarin said in a wounded tone. “I thought you loved me.”
“Of course I do, dear boy. Which is why I’m helping out your wife. Your life will be so much happier if she has you wrapped around her little finger.”
“She’s already got me there,” he said, pressing his knee against her thigh.
Seraiah’s heart skipped a beat. She did?
“Good. Now, enjoy your tea and come back soon. You don’t visit nearly often enough for my taste.” Winnie gave his head a fond pat and toddled off, the beads of the curtain clacking in her wake.
13
SERAIAH
After what was decidedly the best afternoon tea she’d ever had, it was all she could do to keep her eyes open. Zarin took one look at a drooping Seraiah and called for a zippy lift to take them the rest of the way to the palace.
The transport looked like a bubble on three wheels, complete with a cheerful automated driver and room for two passengers. Zippy lifts were staples in larger cities around the galaxy, best known for their cheap fares, ease of maneuverability, and the little putt-putt sound the engine made. These were slightly different from the ones she’d seen on vids, outfitted with wider tires, giving them better traction on the steep streets.
There wasn’t enough room for Zarin’s personal guard, so they got two of their own, following close behind.
The vehicle’s bench seat was a tight squeeze for the two of them, but Seraiah didn’t mind being pressed up against Zarin’s big body. Even better was when he looped an arm around her shoulders, hauling her close to him. Resting a cheek against his chest, she breathed in his cedar-and-lemon scent. How had it become such a comforting smell so quickly? She took another deep breath as she stroked his thigh. When her fingers accidentally grazed the large bulge in his pants, she couldn’t help but notice it grew longer and thicker.
He shifted on the seat.
Smiling to herself, she did it again, her fingers stroking between his legs.
He grabbed her hand, lifting it to his chest, away from his cock. “Seraiah,” he said in a stern voice. “If you don’t stop that, there will be consequences.”
She wiggled her fingers in his grasp. “What kind of consequences, your majesty? Naked consequences?”
He groaned, shifting on the seat again. “Goddess, fuck. Woman, you make me want to forget that we’re riding in a bubble and everyone can see us in here.” He pressed a kiss to her palm. “If we were alone, away from the curious eyes of everyone and their mother out on the street today, there absolutely would be naked consequences, ones that would end satisfactorily for both of us. But right now, you’re giving me blue balls.”
She giggled, rubbing her nose against his chest.
