Before Evie could ask about the vial’s contents, Tatianna interrupted, her tone taking on a concerned softness. “For your father.” She rolled her shoulders and looked out the window. “To manage his pain. I’m sorry I cannot do more for him.”
A hot burning began in the backs of Evie’s eyes, causing her to sniff lightly and clear her throat in an attempt to push it away. She carefully took the bottle and laid it in the pocket of her skirts. “So if I sit incorrectly…will my right ass cheek be bigger than my left?”
A startled laugh busted through Tatianna’s mouth as she shoved Evie lightly on the shoulder. “You are too gullible, little friend. My magic is strong, and all will be fine. Now, get back to work.”
Ignoring the lingering melancholy, Evie grinned wide and spun on her heel toward the door. “Oh!” she said, spinning back around. “The second secret!”
Tatianna raised a brow, her eyes flashing at Evie for just a moment. “The second?”
“Yes,” Evie said boldly. “That dream I had about the boss last night.” She leaned closer. “It was dirty.”
Giggling at the shock on Tatianna’s face, Evie spun back around only to halt immediately in her tracks.
Swallowing a lump in her throat, eyes wide as saucers, Evie said, “Hello, sir… Any chance you’d like to add my head to the entryway?”
Chapter 3
Evie
Evie followed the boss down the hallway back to the open office area. Her face was burning like she’d eaten something spicy, and the pace at which the boss was moving wasn’t helping with the redness in her neck and cheeks.
He’d just stared at her blankly. Completely devoid of all emotion. In fact, she thought she saw the little emotion that was there flicker out the minute he locked eyes with her. As if her silly comment was not even worthy enough to be embarrassed or outraged.
My stupidity is profound enough to be acknowledged, dammit.
She opened her mouth to say as much, but the boss paused in front of large wooden doors that led out to the parapet walk and opened them, motioning for her to pass in front of him. Rubbing her damp palms on her skirts, she stepped forward, feeling the rush of the midmorning sun against her skin.
Evie wasn’t a particular fan of high places, so seeing the distance from where she stood to the ground below caused her to back into the stone edge of the parapet and cling there.
“You’re missing the view.” His voice was low and gravelly in a way that made her head tingle, like the pitter-patter of rain against a roof.
“I know what Hickory Forest looks like,” she said dryly, shutting her eyes tight. But the images of the grand trees beyond were clear. She’d grown up in a village on the outskirts of the forest that took up so much of Rennedawn’s lands. Trees the size of giants blanketed the area surrounding the manor, thick green foliage standing out against a cloudless blue sky. The warm, balmy weather brushing her skin was typical of their kingdom’s forgiving climate, attracting all manner of beings to their modest section of the world.
Evie finally found enough strength to open her eyes and caught the tail end of a curve in her boss’s lips.
Glorious.
Ugh, not glorious, Evie.
She needed to be sedated, clearly.
The Villain continued like she wasn’t the blithering mess that she was. “I wanted to bring you away from prying ears.” He edged closer, his dark hair curling slightly against his tan skin. “It’s a matter of grave importance.”
Something about the way he stood, the wind billowing his black cloak about him, gave Evie a great sense of foreboding. Of course, that perfectly rational emotion was overtaken by the less sensible part of her brain that ignored the danger in favor of how attractive he looked.
Anyone with common sense knew that the loveliest blades were always the sharpest, but for Evie there was no such thing. Her sense came and went with the wind, nothing common about it.
Drawing the tip of her shoe in nervous circles, she looked the boss directly in the eye. “Okay, before you go all brooding Earl of Darkness on me, it was a dirty dream, but I meant, like…dirty. You know, with dirt, the brown stuff. It was muddy and a carriage rolled by and splattered muck over both of us and you said, ‘Better get this washed, Sage.’”
She could feel that awful tumble of words that spilled out every time she was nervous or an unwelcome quiet appeared, so she continued. “It was one of my more ordinary dreams, actually. Nothing explicit or inappropriate.” Her arms were flailing now, full-blown wing movements like she was trying to take off.