“Does this mean that if I treat you as if you’re seductive, you’ll suddenly be able to act like a succubus?”
I swallowed hard. “Well, we can certainly try.”
Chapter 13
I lay naked on the bed in Orion’s guest room. While I was supposed to be practicing not being self-conscious, even alone, I felt deeply uncomfortable as the breeze rushed over my bare skin. The fact that it was dark outside and I was lying beneath a ceiling fixture that glowed like a spotlight wasn’t helping my mood.
I’d be staying here for another week, in a guest room overlooking the sea. While the place was gorgeous, between a floor-to-ceiling window and the missing wall beside it—shielded from rain by a balcony, but still a nasty spot to trip—the room seemed to lack a certain degree of privacy. I didn’t see anyone out in the ocean, but I still felt like I was naked in front of the world.
Plus, I couldn’t help but wonder if Orion was thinking of me naked in here. We’d spent the day trying to work on my seduction skills—the walk, the flirt, the eyes that flicked down and up again, the dirty jokes.
I was shit at all of it. Problem was, Orion was hot as hell. If I let myself fall under his seductive spell, I’d burn up. When his fingers had brushed against mine at breakfast as we’d reached for the cream, I’d felt an indecent jolt of excitement. Unfortunately, I was a blusher, and as succubi did not blush, Orion had come to the conclusion that I was uptight and uncomfortable in my body. Hence, I was lying here, trying to get comfortable.
And it was true that I was uptight, but my unease was far worse around him. He was as dangerous as a forest fire.
When I closed my eyes, I could see his sensual, curved lips.
I glanced at the sea in the moonlight and pulled the blanket over myself, wondering if I could actually pose as a succubus.
With a deep breath, I surveyed the room, trying to ground myself. I needed to get out of my own head.
The decorations in here were simple—a white bed, a bare hardwood floor. The beauty of the place wasn’t in the decor, but rather in the blue of the sea and sky, or the glittering of the stars. A warm, briny breeze rushed over the room. Feeling slightly less self-conscious with the beauty of nature all around me, I dropped the blanket and rose to my knees.
Except I could hear Orion’s deep, seductive words playing in my mind. You said I’m the only man you’d ever suspected was up to the task. And I do think you’re right about that, Rowan.
My eyes snapped open again, and I ran to the light switch. Darkness fell, and I crawled into bed and pulled the covers over myself.
Maybe I couldn’t lie around in the nude, but I could sleep naked.
“How did you sleep?” Orion asked me over coffee.
He had a book spread out before him, and his eyes were on the pages.
I cleared my throat. I didn’t want to tell him about the filthy dream I’d had in which he’d kept me as his prisoner, tied to his bed. “Fine. I slept fine.”
His gaze darted up to meet mine. “Why did you say it like that?”
“Like what?”
A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Like you wanted to climb over the table and throttle me.”
Damn it. He could see right through me. I could feel myself blushing, and I shook my head. “There’s nothing wrong. I slept fine, just had some weird dreams.”
“About what?”
You, kissing me all over. “Just, um, monsters. What are you reading?” I took a sip of my coffee.
Orion’s eyes gleamed, and he lifted the book so I could see the cover.
Fifty Shades of Grey.
I choked and spat out my coffee, then wiped the back of my hand across my mouth.
He sat across from me in his living room, arms folded. I was getting the impression that he was losing patience. “You meet the king tomorrow, and your body is still full of tension and nerves. Do you see how you grimace when you’re nervous? How your neck muscles are tight and strained?”
I sighed, trying to focus on relaxing the muscles around my mouth. I took a deep breath. I couldn’t help but wonder where Orion had spent the last two nights, and where he’d been at dinner.
“Let’s see the Mortana walk you’ve been practicing,” he said.
I rose from the chair.
It wasn’t any of my business where he went when he wasn’t here. But I’d been learning his patterns—a very early wakeup, as soon as dawn broke. Coffee, fruit in the mornings. Sometimes he dove off his balcony straight into the sea for a morning swim. He spent half the day trying to teach me how to act like Mortana—how she spoke, how she held herself, the kind of jokes she’d make. One afternoon, he’d told me to swim naked by myself, and I was supposed to think about how it felt to undulate under the water, how beautiful I was.