“You know how some of the nobles have a summer home and a winter estate?”
“Yeah?”
An impish smile came to Mira’s face. “I’m considering the same. Bonare’s schedule is bound to be hell this winter since he’s taken on a big class of the younger students.”
“How young are we talking?”
“Fledgling mages. Most of them no older than six or seven. He says it’s a tough time for a little sorcerer since they’re throwing fiery tantrums at mum and dad at this point. Since he’s a new instructor, they’re his responsibility on top of his current students.”
Rosalia winced.
“That’s how he feels about it, but he’s excited, too. He says teaching a child is rewarding in its own way. Now, enough about us. Tell me how you’d like your hair to be styled. I have a thousand dresses in that cramped closet, and with a little work, we can make one fit.”
Rosalia glanced up at her friend’s reflection and grinned. “Mira, it’s only cramped because you have a thousand dresses.”
“All the better to be prepared for when you nick one from me.”
WARY OF FLAUNTING a gentleman caller in Madame LaVerci’s face, Rosalia took a lesson from Bonare and Mira by meeting Xavier at the bakery instead of the boarding house’s stoop where the nosy landmistress would see him. She would no doubt come out to cluck around like a nosy hen.
Prudence also bid her not to share the location of her home with a man she’d only met that day.
After all, what did she know about Xavier aside from his fascination with clockwork, his unmatched talent, and the way his emerald eyes sparkled like the ocean water at midday?
Mira had dressed her in the color of the season, a deep and dusky rose that bled to purple near her ankles. Her hair had been arranged in another autumn fashion of many interwoven small braids circling her crown. Those had been secured with gold pearls and shell combs carved from the giant, ebony mollusks harvested off the shore.
When Rosalia arrived, she found her date seated at a quiet table outside, the sun glittering against his hair, and a casual smile on a face so breathtakingly beautiful she thought the goddess of glory had personally sculpted him from clay and breathed the life into him.
“Hello,” he greeted her in his smooth voice, rich and decadent, like auditory velvet caressing her hearing with sensuality and unspoken promises. Her knees trembled a little. It wasn’t fair for one man to affect her so deeply, so profoundly in only the second meeting between them, and she had to wonder if there was something amiss. “I thought we could begin the evening with tea before touring the Garden district and heading to Saffron for dinner.”
Saffron? Rosalia’s mouth dropped open. Only the most noble, wealthiest citizens of Enimura dined at Saffron. Of course, getting a table at the elite restaurant required more than money. One also needed to be connected, otherwise the waiting list required reserving as much as six months in advance.
Gods. The man had connections to get into Saffron in the same day.
“Rosalia?”
“Hello, and sure, that’s fine. Saffron? Really?”
The corner of his mouth raised. “I repaired the oven three months ago during a busy night.”
“Oh.” Intuition told her the owner of Saffron wasn’t the only person of value in Xavier’s pocket. The man must have had friends across the city among the rich and powerful. “I hope I didn’t leave you waiting for long.”
She offered her hand. Xavier accepted and dipped down, brushing his lips against her knuckles. When he straightened and smiled, the warmth touched his eyes and made them come alive with genuine pleasure.
“Not at all. I arrived early and brought a book to keep me company in the meantime.” He tapped his fingers over the cover of a leatherback tome on the table beside his cup of tea. A russet stoneware kettle rested over a heating tile in the middle of their table for two.
Rosalia leaned over the table for a look at the spine. “What book is that?”
“Luck and Serendipity.”
“An unusual choice for a mechanic,” she teased, familiar with the work of romance from her own bookshelf.
He grinned. “Did you think I was only capable of reading spell manuals and clockwork journals?”
“It’s a love story. Most men, at least the ones in my current acquaintance, aren’t fond of reading any story where romance takes precedence over the rest of the plot.” She pursed her lips and thought of Adriano.
“Your employer seems to believe differently.” He cocked a brow. “Frederico writes romantic comedies.”
“Frederico is a rare exception. I also have a childhood friend who says romance is uneducated trash intended for women.”
“Then allow me to be the first man to tell you the fellows previously in your acquaintance are lacking in quality. Many of the greatest novels of the era are so-called ‘love stories’ combining romantic elements and suspense with adventure. If a man is threatened by a little affection between characters, perhaps the greater question he should ask himself is why it makes him uncomfortable to read about two people in love.”
His answer startled her. She blinked at him across the table, hand frozen beside the tea kettle handle.
“Apologies,” he said after a moment. “I tend to be outspoken—”
“No, it’s fine. I like it,” she assured him in a rush. “I’ll be sure to relay your words next time we cross paths, and with great pleasure.”
They shared tea and spoke for a while at the table, discussing their favorite books until the kettle emptied. When it did, Xavier placed a small stack of silver coins beside his empty mug. A casual wrist flick summoned an ethereal glow around his hand, and then the book was gone.
He rose and offered his arm to her. “Shall we?”
Rosalia joined him and took it gratefully.
There was something intoxicating about his scent, like smoke, heady spices, and wood. Hoping to be discreet, she turned her head and breathed in his rich cologne, letting the smell of him seduce her senses.
It wasn’t fair.
Educated, wise, handsome, and successful, all things she’d always told herself she was shallow to desire in a companion.
Yet Xavier possessed every favorable trait she could want and more.
Until that moment, she’d never encountered a true moment of morality before in her line of work, and now she was faced with the dilemma of failing to complete her mission or betraying Xavier’s trust. Only a shrew could enjoy his company in the evening and rob him after nightfall.
I can’t do it tonight.
What Mira didn’t know, wouldn’t hurt her. If Rosalia didn’t want to lose street cred, if she didn’t want her friend to think she’d gotten soft, she’d just have to pretend she’d enjoyed all the generosity of Xavier’s wallet before sneaking into his home and taking even more behind his back.
Besides, he probably didn’t even have the mirror.
ROSALIA MADE AN INCREDIBLE DINING COMPANION, animated and conversational, albeit a little humble when he discussed her talent on the stage and the way her dancing had moved him.
Modesty wasn’t a trait among many women in Enimura’s gentry, and while she was an actress, not some wealthy merchant’s daughter or lesser noble, he’d still expected some manner of bragging. She hadn’t.
Following dinner and a little wine, he’d asked her to accompany him for a stroll through the upper oasis where the district connected with Vermeil Hill.
She leaned beside a verdant bush teeming with enormous white blossoms and perfumed centers. “I’ve never taken the time to walk around the city like this, especially the Gardens.”
“Most people don’t realize there’s more to the Gardens and Vermeil. They rush without stopping to appreciate their surroundings or the beauty of the moon lilies once they’re in bloom. This is the finest season for them,” Xavier said.
Rosalia leaned down to inhale the aroma wafting from the evening blossoms. They only opened at sunset, the firs
t petals parting when the sun met the horizon. “They smell wonderful.”
Xavier removed one of the flowers and tucked it behind her ear. Her smile damn near ended him right then, bursting through his weakening restraint with the force of a sledgehammer until all he wanted was to drop to his knees and propose marriage.
Cool it, Xavier told himself. Not only was it too early, but he was bound to petrify the poor woman and send her fleeing for safety from the eccentric mechanic. His heart didn’t heed the warning though. It just slammed against his ribs.
Rosalia had a smile that could brighten the night sky. It also didn’t help that all he could imagine at that moment was how much he wanted those gorgeous lips wrapped around a specific part of his anatomy.
The last time he’d taken woman to bed, it had been fruitless and unsatisfying, following the whims of his physical needs without the emotional connection his soul desired. He needed more.
He needed her, and while he barely knew anything about Rosalia, aside from the radiance of her smile, he was willing to wait and discover more.
“I suppose this is where we part ways,” Rosalia said, her gentle words dragging him back to the present. “A dancer needs her rest if she’s to attend practices and perform as expected.”
He’d been dreading that. Curious, he popped open his pocket watch and grimaced at the time. It was well after the tenth hour. Had he been courting a woman of nobility, her chaperone would have long ago dragged the young miss away. “Ah, yes. It has grown rather late.”
Shyness came over her again. Her gaze dipped down. “Thank you for tonight. I had a very enjoyable time.”
“I should walk you home. It’s late, and the streets aren’t always safe.”
Her gentle laughter was as melodic as tinkling bells. “I live in a nearby district, Xavier, and there’s a watchman on every corner. I’ll be safe.”
He stepped forward. “Just the same, I’d prefer if—”
She held him off with a palm against his chest and a smile. “I’ve wandered these streets at late hours before following a show. I’m a big girl now and able to look out for myself.”
Wise enough not to press the matter, Xavier nodded. It was silly to be so possessive and protective of her this early, when they’d only been in acquaintance for a day, but something about her called to the base desires of his animal side. Animal side? Gods, he’d thrust himself between her and danger whether he was in his man or dragon form. “When can I see you again?”
“Um... I’m not certain. I...”
Cutting to the chase, he murmured, “There will be a next time, I hope?”
Then that delicious flush spread over her again, warmth creeping over her throat and across the apples of her cheeks. “I’m certain there will be.”
“Will you come by to claim your clock on the morrow?”
“I’ll try. Tomorrow will be a busy day.. I do want that piece rather badly, though I feel awful for not paying you the price you deserve.”
“I’m not worried about the price I deserve. I’ll give it to you for nothing if it means you’ll smile again as you did this morning.” Her eyes widened, so round in her slim face. He dared to cup her chin and stroke her cheek with his thumb, thrilled when she didn’t jerk away. “Tell me I have another evening in your company.”
“I...”
“Is there another man?”
“No.”
His pride wanted—no, demanded—a reasonable and logical explanation behind her hesitation. He had everything to offer her and more, even an escape from the theater if she desired an early retirement. He’d put her on a pedestal and make her a thousand cuckoo clocks in the styles of every kingdom on the continent.
He’d gone long enough without a companion, and for the first time after too many years of struggling through the eternal grind of being on his own, he’d felt like fate had thrown him a gift.
I barely know her.
But he did, didn’t he? He knew her soul, and he recognized something in it that transcended common awareness.
He also knew her true nature. As a half-djinn, she could save his species.
“There was another man, but that was ages ago,” she finally said. “And it’s been a long while since anyone else has courted me—not for their lack of trying.”
Xavier lowered both hands to his sides. “Ah, yes. Frederico mentioned you’ve sent away many suitors.”
She shot him a sharp glance, alarm flashing in her eyes then diminishing. “How much has Frederico spoken of me?” A pause, and then she murmured, “How much have you asked about me?”
Xavier cleared his throat. “Enough to determine whether to pursue you or not. I was led to believe you were eligible but disinterested in anything but your future as a performer. But when I saw you today in the Emporium, I’d hoped...”
A sly smile surfaced. “Hoped Frederico sent me?”
“Yes.”
She glanced away. The white blossom accented her dark hair, and after a day of absorbing sunlight, cast a subtle, silver sheen against the black strands. “Give me a few days. There are some business matters requiring too much of my attention to make plans right now.” Her eyes twinkled. “And then we’ll talk about that next date.”
“All right.”
Rosalia stepped back as if that were the end of it, and he considered leaving it at that, letting her go with an uncertain future between them, but impulse drove him forward. He wrapped one arm around her waist and drew her flush against him, crushing a slim, warm body against his harder frame.
Xavier skimmed his lips down her throat and inhaled the scent of fire and magic. It took all his effort not to kiss her right then. He took it as an invitation when she didn’t shove him away, both arms raising around him instead.
“I look forward to meeting you again, Rosalia.”
She sighed, a quiet breath of approval and pleasure. Her fingers curled against his shoulders, and her head tilted back, baring her throat to him. He was so hungry for her he couldn’t help himself and nibbled along the little spot where her pulse quickened. It roared like thunder, loud enough for his shapeshifter hearing to discern.
“Until next time.”
When he stepped back, her eyes were hazy with lust and unfocused. He grinned even wider. Fuck yes. He’d made the exact impression he’d wanted to, luring her in and leaving her wanting more. She had become his most wicked temptation.
“Until next time,” Rosalia agreed. “Thank you for an enjoyable evening, Xavier.” She dipped into a flawless curtsy and headed away beneath the street lamps. He watched until she was out of sight.
Finding her hadn’t been a mere luck; it was fate.
7
CURIOSITY KILLED THE CAT BURGLAR
ROSALIA’S CONSCIENCE forbid her to steal from him mere hours after what had to be the best night of her pitiful dating life. Instead of robbing him, she donned her thief’s leathers and moodily traveled the Ghostwalks above the city long after midnight, occasionally casing another merchant’s storefront while a pair of her urchins observed Xavier’s after-hours routine from the streets and a nearby rooftop. She wasn’t heartless enough to spy on him right away.
Over a year ago, calling it quits with Adriano had been easy. They’d had a turbulent on-and-off again relationship, and he’d been besieged by female sailors eager to sink their hooks into an attractive officer. The fates had been against them from the beginning.
It didn’t matter that his late mother had been a thief like her, or that they’d practically grown up alongside each other in the Pearl after her mother died. She’d dithered over it for weeks while he was at sea, wondering if it was her chance to leave behind her criminal life and become legitimate. Safe. Cared for.
In the end, she hadn’t wanted it to be on Adriano’s terms. She didn’t want to be cosseted and protected like a doll. Adriano wanted to change her into something she could never be. And Xavier Bane would most likely want the same.
But how could she ever know if
she didn’t give him a chance?
She sighed. So much for the Ghostwalks distracting her from the dilemma of diving headfirst into another relationship. They were both a game and a mode of travel for thieves like her who did second-story work, a pattern of ramps, catwalks, ladders, and narrow ledges that let them navigate the city and disappear from pursuing guardsmen like ghosts.
On a good day of dry weather, they could be a fun distraction and exercise in athleticism. On a wet day, they were death. Suicide. She’d seen thieves try to escape the law on them and slip on a rung or miss a handhold. If the fall didn’t kill them, the execution the next morning neatly finished the job. If they weren’t members of the Thieves Guild.
Rosalia and Mira had been Initiated during their youth. Others weren’t so fortunate, and to become an agent of the Thieves Guild, a small-time burglar had to possess enough natural, raw talent to gain the interest of a sponsor. Without that, the Grandmaster Ombre wouldn’t give them the time of day.
Her thoughts seemed to herald the rain, prompting her to retreat home to the Rosewater District after collecting news from the children observing Xavier. For two evenings, she studied him and learned his habits, outright fibbing to Mira by claiming the man had nothing of importance in his shop, so she’d taken to examining some of the lesser mechanics in the district instead.
If Mira suspected she’d gone soft, she’d have no qualms about entering the Clockwork Emporium and packing her limitless bags with plunder, taking everything that shone from mechanical marvels to expensive tools—even if the mirror wasn’t present. She knew her friend, and she knew Mira could be equally crafty at breaking through magical defenses. Lying was the only way to protect him.
I won’t steal anything. If he has the mirror, I’ll take only that. Only the mirror. Then I can still look into those beautiful green eyes after this without feeling like an asshole.
XAVIER EMPLOYED a combination of magical and mechanical securities in his store, some obvious and others not, which meant that the ones in plain sight were intentionally placed to distract from the subtle spells.
All That Glitters: a Fantasy Romance (Daughter of Fortune Book 1) Page 5
