Healer's Touch by Soulhaven | World Anvil Manuscripts | World Anvil

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16: It's Just Sex

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Llew pressed the softest, most luxurious towel she had ever touched to her skin, dabbing the water away. Somehow scrubbing didn't seem appropriate with something so masterfully woven, cleansed and dried.

She crossed the room to her bed and brushed the sheets with her fingers; they were smooth and soft and inviting. She almost wished there wasn't a ball that evening – she couldn't wait to curl up and sleep in those blankets.

She jumped at a knock on her door.

“Just a minute,” she called, pulling the towel around her, and crossing the room.

“Where is it?” Her heart nearly stopped at Jonas's hostile tone. She had known he would notice the knife's absence, and she had known he would know who took it. If anything, she was surprised he hadn't come sooner. She had been preparing for this, but still she wasn't prepared.

“What?”

“You know what. Open the door.”

She secured the towel about her, turned the lock, and skipped out of the door's sweep as soon as the latch clicked.

“Where is it?” he said, striding into the room.

“You won't find it and I'm not giving it back to you tonight. So, you might as well go to the dance. I'll keep it safe.”

“Is that what this is about?” He almost laughed. “You want me to go to a dance? You stupid girl.” He started rummaging through her drawers. They were mostly empty, only containing the few items Lord Tovias's staff had supplied his guests: hairbrushes, undergarments, towels.

“You won't find it.”

He turned to her, eyes narrowed, and then walked to the bed and threw back the blankets. The pillows were flung aside. He growled in frustration and came across to her.

“What did you do with it?” He leaned towards her. She could feel his breath on her skin.

“I said I wasn't giving it back to you. Let it be my problem tonight,” Llew replied as calmly as possible. “Now I would like to finish drying off. I have a social engagement to prepare for. Please leave.” She pointed toward the door. Her hand barely shook.

His hard expression faltered at her commanding tone, and his eyes swept down to her bare shoulders and the towel clasped around her. He swallowed, and Llew saw in him the same hunger she'd seen in other men, but in Jonas it was mixed with a nervousness or fear she'd never seen before. Of all people, this man had all the power needed to make her do what she didn't want to do.

But now she did want to. When she'd been with men previously, they'd taken what they wanted. Jonas wouldn't take; he would ask, but he looked too unnerved even to do that. Scared of hurting her? Of wanting what Aris said he couldn't have?

Everything she had complained about to Anya fell away. There would be no writhing. Not in a bad way, anyway.

She lifted her chin and relaxed her hold on her towel, revealing the plump curve of a breast pressed up by the hand beneath. Jonas swallowed again, his eyes searching hers. Llew let the towel slip a little more, flicking her eyes down to direct his gaze, with her breathing becoming shallow and quickening. He looked down, back up, and then stepped close to her, his hands coming up to cup her jaw. Her hands gripped his shirt, pulling him into her. Their lips pressed together.

In the hall, Hisham cleared his throat.

Jonas kicked the door closed with his heel and nudged Llew back toward the bed, while she pushed open his leather vest and began work on his shirt buttons. With her hands otherwise occupied, the towel fell to the floor.

As soon as his shirt came open, she pushed it from his shoulders. Lean though he was, muscles rippled under the skin as he reached to pull her face to his again. Her hands roved his hard back, feeling the little raised patches of scarred skin. This man kissing her with the same combination of hunger and tenderness that she felt for him had seen combat unlike anything that had happened on the shores of her country. She let her eyes follow the line of his shoulder to his biceps, where he had been injured in Stelt. The wound was knitting well. It would soon join the ranks of the other scars over his body. She wished she could fix it for him. She wished she could fix them all.

Then he was pulling back. No. Stop! Don't stop! Her hands clasped his head and she tried to pull him back to her. He shook his head.

“What— Why?”

“I know Al told you about me, and what I do, what I did, for Aris, for Quaver.” He pried her fingers from the back of his head, the self-loathing settling back in place.

Llew shook her head. “It's just sex. Aris would never let me have you, anyway. And I know you don't like me that way. It's okay. The last boy I lay with sent me to the hangman.” She was talking too much, and it wasn't working. “It's only sex.”

Jonas studied her face for several moments. “I wonder what you were like.”

“When?”

“Before you learned to hate men.”

“I don't—” Llew's denial caught in the back of her throat. He was right. Well, maybe not hated them, but she sure as hell didn't trust them.

He straightened, stepping back from her.

“I don't hate you.” She gathered his hands in her own, guided one, then the other to her waist, stepped close to him, tracing the lines of his tattoo with a finger. He took a shuddering breath under her touch and when she looked up at him, he was watching her, a sparkle in his eye. Right or wrong, he wanted it, too.

He kissed her, then pulled back just far enough that his lips tickled hers when he spoke. “I don't hate you, either.”

He kissed her again, and then trailed kisses down her neck, and her fingers found his belt and began work on the buckle until it fell loose. She made short work of his trouser buttons. He hoisted her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried her the last few feet, placing her gently on the bed. His hand cupped her breast, her hip, pulled a thigh up beside him, as though he wanted to touch her everywhere at the same time but was hindered by a lack of hands.

She gasped at the thrill that started in her belly and sent aftershocks throughout her being. Her nights with Kynas had led her to believe she was numb, damaged. Clearly, that was not so. They barely had to move. Every tremor of his body met with a quiver of her own.

Then Jonas stopped, clinging to her.

“Don't move.” His breath tickled her ear.

She tensed, listening. Had he heard something?

He pulled his head up, watching her with eyes free of their usual simmering anger. Tasting his breath, her body trembled around him. Jonas cursed and clung to her, his head on her shoulder while he fought to control his own body. “I said, don't move.”

“It was your fault.” Llew grinned, on the verge of laughter. She didn't think she'd ever had such fun.

His head came up again, an eyebrow raised. She smiled at him, and he laughed and then cursed again as involuntary convulsions took over. Waves of pleasure filled Llew, but she couldn't stop laughing.

Llewella rested her head against Jonas's shoulder and her fingers traced the curving lines of his tattoo. He was watching her, his face grim.

“Why does it make you sad?” she asked, rising on an elbow and leaning in to kiss his cheek. He frowned again, looking as though he was about to speak, and then he rolled his shoulder out from under her hand to sit on the edge of the bed. She admired the taut, muscular back, and reached out to touch his bicep.

When he finally spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper. “I wasn't home when Braph killed them. I was...” His face pinched at the memory. “...getting it finished.”

At a loss for anything to say, she squeezed his arm, trying to give comfort.

A knock came at the door and they both tensed.

“Who is it?” Llew called.

“I am here to help you dress for the ball.” A young woman's voice came through the door. They relaxed.

“What?” Llew got up, wrapped her towel securely about herself, and went to the door. She opened it just enough to poke her head through.

“I am here to help you dress for the ball,” the girl repeated. She was Llew's age, brunette, buxom and pretty.

“I don't need help. The dress buttons up the front.”

“But you will need help with your corset,” the girl said in a friendly, puzzled tone.

“My what?”

“Corset.” The girl lifted the garment in her hands. “It does up at the back and is quite difficult to do alone.”

“Right.” Llew couldn't allow her to enter the room right now. “I just need a little time to finish my bath. Could you come back in five minutes?”

“Certainly, ma'am.” The girl gave a small curtsy and left.

Ma'am!

Llew closed the door and turned to see Jonas doing up the last of his shirt buttons. Fully clothed, he paused to look at her, his expression unreadable.

“It wasn't your fault.”

“I know,” he said, buckling his belt, and Llew sensed he had been trying to convince himself of that fact since the day his family had died.

“You're still not getting it back tonight,” Llew reminded him on his way past.

“I know.” His smile turned sardonic. “You're good, Llew. You're quick and clever, and I'm gonna trust you to use that to keep that knife out of your own heart tonight.” He raised his eyebrows in a you-understand-what-you're-getting-yourself-into? look. “Don't get dead.”

“I won't.”

He leaned in to give her a light kiss on the cheek. “Don't lose it.”

“I won't.”

He opened the door enough to check that the hall was empty.

Alvaro asked me, by the way.”

Jonas paused. “Then you'll go with Alvaro.” He slipped through the door, pulling it behind him.

“I wish I had your job,” said Hisham as the door clicked shut.

Llew mulled over a misspent afternoon and recalled the sensations she had experienced minutes earlier. Only for minutes, too. She didn't mind. It had been the most joyous few minutes she could remember. She hugged herself.

Now what? Jonas seemed to have accepted her determination to relieve him of his self-imposed burden. A burden she still lacked a full understanding of, but which she now felt keenly. She had given herself a duty to keep the weapon safe, and she would do it. She straightened out the bed covers and waited for the girl to return.

Soon afterwards, dressed in nothing but a corset and long puffy leggings with scratchy lace at the edges, Llew shooed the girl from her room and pushed the door closed behind her. Then she walked to the bathtub, knelt beside it and fished around for the knife. She pulled it from the water and dried it in the towel. She found a long ribbon from a drawer and tied it around the handle and then her waist and used another shorter ribbon to hold the blade against her thigh. Pulling the dress on was much harder than she had anticipated. The corset restricted her movement compared to what she was used to. Why ladies chose to wear such things she could not imagine. Well, it did give her a bust she normally lacked.

When she was properly attired, complete with dress-gloves and gleaming shoes, Llew prepared to present herself to the rest of the world. Through the door she could hear the murmurings of her friends in the hallway. They were to arrive together, with Anya following a minute or two behind.

Llew faced the door and gave herself one last pat down to ensure everything was sitting as it should. Her hand paused where she could feel the shape of the knife sitting against her thigh. The blade was already warming to her skin. When she pulled her hand away, the dress returned to its usual shape, completely disguising the weapon. She took one more breath and opened the door.

Cassidy, Alvaro, and Aris loitered restlessly in the hallway, while Jonas leaned against a decorative table with a vase of flowers on top. They all looked up at the sound of her door opening. The warm and discomfiting glow of self-consciousness spread through her as she rustled towards them. Aris quickly scooted over to help her with the door while she gathered up her skirts before they were trapped in it.

“Civilization suits you, Llew,” he said with a raise of his eyebrows and an appraising smile. Then he leaned in so that no one else would hear. “Whatever you did to get him to put down that knife and come along, thank you. It's high time he had some fun.” Llew bit her lip and tried not to blush, wondering if he'd be quite so grateful if he knew the details. Louder, he said, “I'll see if Anya is ready.” He headed off down the hall.

“How do you do that?” Cassidy was looking at her with mock wonder.

“What?”

“One minute you look like just one of the guys, and the next you come out looking like... that.”

“I think he is trying to say that you look beautiful.” Alvaro stepped up to her. “And I would have to agree.”

Llew had to admit that the men all were transformed too. Cassidy and Alvaro wore fancy new suits, waist coats, and brand-new shirts, like those they had worn that morning but somehow more magnificent. Jonas was attired in black again. The jacket had fine detail around the cuffs and lapels, giving him an exotic appearance. He'd even taken the time to hook his hair back in a ponytail.

Aris returned down the hall.

“The ladies— Sorry, Llew. The other ladies are ready to follow us in a couple of minutes. Shall we go?”

Alvaro presented his elbow and Llew hooked her hand through it, though somewhat reluctantly. She looked at Jonas, who gave no indication how he felt about the contact. The ghost of skin on skin washed over her and she had to look away. She smiled up at Alvaro. Now was not the time to break the news to him; they had a dance to attend.

With a nod from Aris, they made their way to the ballroom.

The ballroom was spacious and airy, and filled with the same sense of grandeur as the rest of the house. Tonight, though, it was even more spectacular: candles in stunning silver holders along the walls made for a subdued light that gave the room a romantic air. A long table at one end offered nibbles as there was no formal dinner tonight; tonight, it was all about dancing.

Lord Tovias greeted them as they entered, embracing Aris warmly and shaking the hands of each of the others. He had an air of anticipation and kept glancing behind them, until he saw Llew.

“My lady.” He took her hand and kissed it as he bowed gracefully. “You honor me with your beauty.”

Flustered, Llew smiled shyly, not knowing what she was meant to do in cases such as this. Alvaro stood by her side, beaming.

“Please enjoy the night's festivities.” Lord Tovias spread his arms to indicate the ballroom. “It is all in honor of the work you all have done for me, for which I am eternally grateful.”

Llew let herself be led by Alvaro into the room, where they loitered as a group for a while, getting their bearings. She was aware of Jonas, but he seemed to be hanging back, keeping out of her way. Leaving Alvaro to enjoy his night, she supposed. But her thoughts were consumed with memories of the afternoon.

The ballroom was filled with ladies and gentlemen dressed in extravagant dresses and suave suits. Some lounged near the table, eating and chattering, others wandered around carrying glasses, and still others were dancing to music being played by a small orchestra at the far end of the room. Everything was strikingly beautiful: the clothes, the platters of food, glassware, walls, the ceiling, everything. Llew felt herself pale in comparison.

“Hello, handsome man.” Llew turned at sound of the sultry voice to see a woman in a sun yellow dress step close to Jonas and lay claim to him with her hand on his bicep.

“Franziska.” Jonas nodded, lifting her hand from his arm. “What are you doing here?”

“I received an invitation.” The woman looped her arm under Jonas's. She said something to him, but Alvaro was already leading Llew away. Jonas laughed, and the woman's arm remained linked in his. Llew's hand went to the knife at her side. Had she done the right thing?

“Can't take you anywhere, can we?” Hisham pushed his way through the crowd. He was dressed in the same uniform as Lord Tovias's guards. He afforded Llew a knowing look before carrying on through to Jonas, who disentangled himself from the yellow woman to greet his friend. She glared at Hisham, and Llew relaxed a little.

A moment later a hush swept through the crowd. Llew looked around at the entrance. There stood Anya, with Emylia at her side, and trailed by two young attendants.

Anya sparkled. Her dress was a pale blue, the material shimmering in the flickering lights, and it was covered in tiny precious stones. Lord Tovias bowed deeply, kissing her hand. Sections of the crowd began to clap and cheer. Soon the rest of the room followed suit, and even Llew found herself cheering the couple on. Aris moved through the crowd to take Emylia's hand, and the new arrivals entered the ballroom to mingle with the assembled guests. The music started up again.

Llew let Alvaro guide her to the food and drink table, where he offered her a stemmed glass.

“Wine?”

She accepted it and took a sip. The tangy, fruity liquid smelled and tasted exquisite. They enjoyed a little of the selection of tiny cakes, fruit, bread, and thin slithers of meats, before Alvaro took the glass from her hand, placed it back on the table, and clasped her hand in his.

“Dance?”

“Oh, well, I...”

“You'll be fine. Come with me.”

He guided her through the crowd. She saw Cassidy watching them as they went by, but she had lost sight of the rest of the others. Alvaro led her closer to the musicians and then turned to face her, lifting her hand with his and placing his other hand behind her back. His lead was inexpert, but Llew found that she could follow him, and barely stepped on his feet or anyone else's. The experience of dancing was glorious. Llew felt more womanly than she ever had, and moving her body with the accompanying music seemed like the most natural thing in the world. Sometimes she felt as though she and Alvaro were the only two people in the room: but for one. Frequently, she swept her eyes over the crowd, seeking Jonas.

Now and then they stopped dancing for more wine. But Alvaro must have sensed her enjoyment, for he never took her from the dance floor for long.

“You look lovely tonight, Llew,” he said one time when they stopped for refreshments.

She accepted his compliment with a smile and small nod and grabbed another glass of wine.

Anya tapped Alvaro on the shoulder. “May I borrow your date?”

“Sure.” Alvaro shrugged. Llew waved goodbye to him as she was led away, grabbing another glass of wine.

Anya took her out through the double doors to the deep, semi-circular balcony, on either side of which a stairway swept to the gardens below. A small waterfall ran into a pond dug into the tidy short-clipped lawn of soft green grass. So different from the dry Cheer she had left behind only a month before. Various bushes dotted the garden, and she thought she recognized some roses but, lacking any horticultural experience, Llew just appreciated the strange tidiness of it. Nature, shaped and molded to fit some human ideal.

Anya took a deep breath of the cool evening air an d puffed it out with an “ahhh”. Her eyes gleamed, her cheeks were rosy, and she couldn't stop smiling.

“Isn't this magnificent?”

“Sure is.” Llew sipped her wine, watching Anya. The girl seemed truly happy. The earl must have been making a good impression.

“I just needed some girl time. You're my only friend here and, if I don't share with someone, I'm afraid I'll explode.” She threw her arms out in a big circle.

Llew suddenly realized what she meant to the girl. During their travels, Llew had spent most of her time with the boys, and she almost felt as though she was one of them. But Anya had always been treated as a girl. She interacted with Aris and Emylia, but not on a truly companionable level. Llew was her own age, and she felt some guilt at not having made more of an effort to get to know the other girl.

Anya couldn't stop beaming.

“He's absolutely wonderful, Llew. Just wonderful,” she gushed.

“That's great.” Llew smiled. Pleased for Anya, she was less sure how she felt about herself. She had had an amazing time with Jonas that afternoon, but he'd barely acknowledged her since the start of the ball, and then that other woman...

Anya turned wide eyes on her.

“So, what about you? You came with Alvaro.”

Llew looked back through the large open doorway into the hall. Alvaro was already dancing with another young lady, smiling and talking animatedly. Happy. Strangely, seeing Alvaro with another woman didn't have anything like the same effect as seeing that woman drape herself over Jonas.

“Well, he asked me.”

“I see.” Anya watched Llew, then let out another contented sigh and looked up at the stars. “I hope you find as much joy as I have, Llew. I really do.” Her gaze shifted past Llew's shoulder. “Oh, and it just may have found you.”

Llew turned and found herself nose to chest with a man.

“Oh!” She stepped back and looked up into a pair of light brown eyes under long lashes she could only describe as beautiful.

“Hello, ladies.” The man smiled at them. “Enjoying the festivities, are we?” He held two glasses of wine.

“Oh, yes!” said Anya. “Everything is perfect.” She almost purred.

“You are regulars at Lord Tovias's court?”

Anya giggled, politely declining the drink and nudging Llew.

“Ah, no.” Llew accepted the glass, emptying her own in one gulp. “We just arrived in Rakun last night.”

“Really?” He leaned an elbow on the stone balustrade. “Where did you come from, then?”

Cheer,” said Llew, adding, “Aghacia,” when the man didn't seem to recognize the name.

“Oh? A long way. What brought you to Rakun, then?”

Anya is to marry Lord Tovias.”

“Well, well. That is wonderful.”

“Thank you.” Anya curtsied, glowing under the man's admiration.

“Was your journey pleasant?”

Llew and Anya began telling him of the journey from their home, each filling in various details. While they both took turns telling of their ups and downs, Llew was aware that he seemed most captivated by her. Well, Anya was already promised to wed, after all.

“And they didn't hurt you?” he asked when she recounted her encounter with the Zaki warriors.

“Oh, no.” She laughed. “Our friend is in the Quaven army. He took care of them for me.”

“I'm glad he did, or I might not have had this chance to meet you.” He smiled at Llew. Something about the smile shot straight through her, lighting something deep inside. A smiling Jonas flashed into her mind, but she pushed it away.

“I would be honored if you'd let me show you a few sights around Rakun.”

Llew didn't know what to say and took a sip of wine.

“In fact, there's somewhere special I'd like to show you. Tonight, if you would come with me?”

Tonight?

“Um, well, I—” she floundered and turned to Anya, but Anya was disappearing back into the throng of the ballroom. “I should really stay.”

“Why? What's keeping you here?” The man's eyes burned into her and, again, an unwanted flash of Jonas looking at her filled her mind's eye. She shook her head clear and returned her attention to the man before her. Certainly, all his attention was on her. It was as though he thought he could compel her to go with him if he looked at her intensely enough. For a moment Llew almost believed he could. She looked at her wine, watching the bubbles break the surface.

“Well, I just got here, and...” A commotion drew her attention, and she looked over her shoulder to see Jonas pushing through the crowd to the balcony, with Anya and Cassidy close behind. She looked back at the man. Or rather, where the man had been. She was alone.

“Where'd he go?” Jonas demanded as he reached her, scanning the darkness for movement.

Llew shrugged and looked at Anya for answers.

“I didn't like his tone,” said Anya with a shrug.

“It's okay, Anya,” Llew said, and then turned-on Jonas. “For a worry-wart, you sure know how to leave a burden behind.”

Cassidy and Anya looked surprised at her accusation. Cassidy knew his place though and, with his hands resting lightly on her shoulders, he turned Anya and guided her back to the ballroom.

“They make a cute couple, don't they?” Llew leaned into Jonas as though she were making an idle observation, before raising her voice again. “Cassidy likes her, you know? But he knows how to keep his hands to himself.”

Jonas hissed. Anya looked back at Llew, her mouth open and cheeks reddening with scandalized horror. Cassidy looked sick.

“He's cute, too. But he doesn't have Lord Tovias's pockets.”

“That's enough, Llew.” Jonas gripped her arm. “You've no right to ruin everyone else's night just 'cause you're sufferin' misplaced jealousy. What's your problem?”

“You're my problem. Leaving me to carry your burden while you catch up with an old flame.”

“She's not—” He stopped. “No one knows you've got it, do they?” He stepped in closer to avoid being overheard. “You've barely been out of my sight all night.”

“Oh? So, you weren't bothered when another man was showing interest in me?”

Jonas looked uncomfortable for a moment. “Alright, so I wasn't watchin' you then.”

“Too busy with your other women?” Llew downed the rest of her wine, watching him over the rim. It felt good to say what was on her mind and she wondered if the fruity liquid had anything to do with it. She placed the glass down on the balustrade, forcefully enough to make a point but with sufficient control not to break it.

“That's enough, Llew.”

“I don't think it is, Jonas. I think we're only getting started.”

By now, other guests standing by the doors were looking at them and whispering.

“He can bed me when I anger him,” Llew said loud enough for them all to hear, watching Jonas's mounting anger. “But he won't be seen to enjoy my company in public.”

Jonas grabbed her by the wrist hard enough to make her squeal and led her down one of the staircases to the lawn below.

“Looks like I'm getting lucky!” she called over her shoulder as she stumbled down behind him and smiled at the titters that followed.

“Has it all got a bit exciting for you?” she ventured when they reached the shadow below the curved peak of the balcony.

“Don't be a fool!” He spun back to face her; his arm raised. She flinched from the threatened assault.

“How dare you!” She was positive it was the wine making her so bold.

“Damn it, Llew. Little more than a week ago I could have killed you!”

“No, you couldn't.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Because you didn't.”

All Jonas's tension eased, and he rocked back, digesting that. He gave a brief laugh and shook his head. He chuckled to himself, leaned his shoulder against the wall and laughed again. The band struck up a new, slow tune.

Llew watched Jonas, lost in his thoughts as he was, and her own spite evaporated. He was right; her jealousy had gotten the better of her and she was going to have some apologizing to do. Jealousy, like a scab: just another thing Llew had never experienced, and she felt duly humbled.

She stood a few moments more wallowing in self deprecation.

She glanced Jonas's way a couple of times, catching his eye once or twice before he, too looked away.

What now? Shouldn't Jonas have demanded she return his knife and stormed off by now? Here they were, standing close to each other sort of awkward and yet, somehow, as comfortable as if they'd known each other forever.

The band eased seamlessly into another new song with a similar pace. Well, it was hardly right to waste the opportunity...

“Dance with me?” She held out a hand.

He looked at her with an expression suggesting that he wondered if she was thinking clearly, or if she was indeed crazy.

“Dance with me,” she demanded, shaking her hand at him.

He looked surprised, then smiled and pushed himself out from the wall and clasped her hand. He pressed his other hand behind her back and began to move with the music, guiding her with gentle pressure from both hands and, occasionally, a hip. With the warmth of his body the effects of the wine seemed to double and Llewella let herself relax into his embrace. She laughed as he stumbled forward to stop her from falling. Her head fell back, and she took in the upside-down garden as he whirled her around, expertly recovering. Allowing Jonas to bring her upright, Llewella brushed her short hair away from her eyes as she regained her bearings.

Over Jonas's shoulder, she saw the man from earlier step down the stairs. She suddenly realized she didn't know his name. He stood at the bottom of the stairs for a moment, looking about. He saw Llew looking at him and smiled, though the expression was somehow cold, then he disappeared into the shadows. His name settled in her mind then. Braph. Clean-shaven and damn near as handsome as his brother.

“What am I to do with you, Llew?” 

Do with me? I have no idea what you mean.” She pulled back to look at him, Braph slipping from her thoughts.

“How can I hate everythin' you are, but feel what I feel?” Jonas said in frustration. “It's turnin' me inside out.”

“You could try not hating me for a start.” She laid her wine-dizzy head on his shoulder.

He gave a small laugh. “I suppose it should be that simple.”

“Yes,” she said into his shoulder.

The music moved into another upbeat number and they pulled apart again for a moment before Jonas leaned in to kiss her.

“Ow!” He pulled back.

“Oh. Sorry, my feet were killing me.” Llew smirked at him. “If it weren't for these gloves, I'd have been zapping Alvaro all night.” She gasped as she realized that she had abandoned her escort.

“Don't worry about him. He's been distracted since you stepped out.”

“Come on.” She took Jonas's hand and led him from the garden.

They returned to her room where he assisted her in unbuttoning the gown. The dress slipped away and Llew stepped out from the layered skirts. Jonas laughed.

“What?” Llew scowled at him, then looked down at herself in her corset and knickerbockers with his knife slung around her waist, tied with ribbons. “Well, help me get them off then.” She untied the knife and threw it down beside him, then turned and let him pull at the knot holding the corset tight. She felt his fingers pull unhurriedly at the tie, loosening the garment down the length of her back, until it finally fell away. She remained standing, facing away, expecting him to dispose of the ugly undergarments as quickly as she wanted to be free of them. But instead, his warm hands clasped either side of her waist and he pressed his lips to the small of her back.

“You're a fine woman, Llewella.”

She closed her eyes to savor his words and smiled as a thought came to her.

She glanced over her shoulder. “You hate Aenuks and I hate men? We must be the perfect couple.”

“It must be true love.” Jonas kissed her back again.

“I don't know much about love.”

“Sex, on the other hand...”

Indeed. Llewella turned and pressed him back onto the bed.

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