“Interesting.” He set it down carefully, then looked at her, the corner of his mouth curling up. “So your favorite is about a man and woman falling in love.”
Warmth invaded her cheeks, but she ignored it and slipped the berry into her mouth. Juice spurted from the fruit as she bit down, and she quickly pressed a hand to her mouth. She swallowed and licked her lips, painfully aware that he was watching her intently, his gaze riveted on her mouth.
More heat flooded her face. Was he remembering their kiss? She turned to look at the fireplace. It was taking an eternity for the water to boil. But the way he was looking at her might indicate that he was now in the correct mood.
Steeling her nerves, she faced him and motioned toward the bed. “Please make yourself comfortable.”
He surprised her by sitting at the table in front of the hearth. “Would you like to try one?” He opened the gold box.
She moved close to the table and studied the chocolates. They came in different shades of brown and three different shapes—round, square, and rectangular. Finally, she selected a round one and bit into it.
Instantly her mouth was filled with the richest, creamiest, sweetest sensation she’d ever tasted. “Oh my!” She licked her lips to keep drool from trickling out.
He smiled. “I guess you like it.”
She nodded and put the rest of the piece in her mouth. It was truly heavenly. What other wondrous things from the outside world was she missing? She put the lid on the box, then turned back to the hearth to check on the water.
“So Frederic lived here?” Zoltan asked.
She nodded. “Frederic Chesterton.”
“And his wife and daughters lived here, too?”
“No, the women live in . . . another valley.”
“Why didn’t he live with them?”
“It is one of our rules. No man is allowed in—” Neona glanced back with an apologetic look. “I guess our ways must seem strange to you.”
“What about your family?”
Neona sighed, wishing the water would hurry up and boil. “I’d rather not talk about myself.”
“It was my third condition, remember? We have to get to know each other.”
She glanced back at him. Would he really refuse to bed her if she didn’t tell him more about herself? Maybe a little information would be all right as long as she didn’t disclose any secrets.
She wandered back to the table and opened the tin that contained tea leaves. “I never knew my father. He went back to Greece.” Or did he? She spooned some tea leaves into the pot. “My mother is our leader. Queen Nima.”
Zoltan’s eyes widened, then he grinned. “So you really are a warrior princess?”
She scoffed. “No. I’m not in line for the throne.”
“Why not?”
The kettle whistled, finally, and she hurried to the hearth, relieved for the brief respite from his questions. She wrapped a towel around her hand, then carried the hot kettle back to the table.
“Why can’t you be queen?”
She poured steaming water into the teapot. “It’s . . . complicated.”
“Then explain. I have nowhere else to go.” He gave her a wry smile. “And I’m seemingly intelligent.”
Neona smiled in spite of herself. “Yes, you are.” She set the lid on the pot to let the tea steep. “We all have special gifts, and I have the wrong one.”
“How can a gift be wrong?”
Would the man never stop with the questions? She motioned toward the bed. “It’s late. Perhaps we should . . . rest for a while?”
His eyes glimmered like glowing amber. “You keep trying to seduce me.”
She swallowed hard. The way he was looking at her made her stomach quiver. “Don’t you want to be seduced?”
His mouth curled up slowly. “I’m not in the mood yet.” He patted the chair next to him. “Talk to me. I want to know what kind of gift you have and why it’s wrong.”
She eased into the chair, all too aware that his arm was now resting on the back of it. “I’m a healer. When I touch an injury, I can take away the pain and help it heal.”
“That’s an excellent gift.”
“Not really. I have to feel the pain, too.”
“Oh. That’s bad.” He sat up suddenly. “Is that why you had your hand on my pants? You were healing me?”
She nodded. “I needed you to be functioning properly.”
“I see.” His mouth twitched, then he gave her a wide-eyed, innocent look. “I’m afraid I’m still suffering from residual pain.”
“From two nights ago?”
“You kneed me really hard. I could use your healing touch.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I think you’re lying.”
“You’re right.” He grinned. “But it was worth a shot.”
She smiled back.
“You have a pretty smile.”
Her heart squeezed in her chest. Don’t fall for him. Just get this over with. “So you’re functioning properly now?”
“I’ll be fine once I get in the mood.”
How could such a strong, virile man be so slow? “Maybe I should touch you after all. To help you get in the mood.” She reached for his groin, but he grabbed her hand.
“What kind of gift do you need to be queen?” he asked, encasing her hand in both of his.
She groaned silently with frustration. “Why do you need to know? You cannot be queen. You are a man.” She pulled her hand from his grip and eyed his groin with suspicion. “That is, if you can ever get in the mood.”
His jaw shifted. “I’m getting there. Just a few more questions. What kind of gift does the queen need?”
“She must be able to communicate with . . . winged creatures.” Neona winced. Now she’d said too much.
Zoltan inhaled sharply. “You mean birds? Your mother can talk to birds?”
“Yes.” She gave him a wary look. “That probably sounds strange.”
“No. It doesn’t.” He gazed into the fire for a moment. “Are there other women in your group who have had that gift?”
“My twin sister, Minerva, did, but—” Neona tensed, afraid a wave of grief would sweep over her. She steeled her nerves and continued, “Winifred has the gift, so she will be the next queen.”
Zoltan turned toward her. “You had a twin sister?”
“Let me see if the tea is ready.” Neona jumped to her feet and grabbed the teapot. Her hands trembled, and some tea splashed onto the table.
“That’s all right.” Zoltan took the teapot from her and set it down. “I don’t really need any tea.”
She sat back down and clenched her hands together in her lap. “I think we’ve talked enough.”
“You lost your sister?”
She nodded. “Two weeks ago.”
“I’m so sorry.” He reached over and took hold of her hands. “I’ve lost my loved ones, too.”
She glanced at him and saw the pain shimmering in his golden amber eyes. “I’m sorry.”
He squeezed her hands. “What happens if you get injured? Are you able to heal yourself?”
She shook her head. “There was another healer. Frederic’s wife, Calliope. But she died about six years ago. I couldn’t save her.”
“And now you’re on your own? You relieve everyone’s pain, but there is no one to help you?”
Tears filled her eyes. “The pain I have cannot be healed.”
“I know.” He reached up and brushed her hair back from her brow. “But I would give you comfort if I can.”
He was so tempting. Oh, God, don’t fall for him. Her heart yearned for someone to hold her and care for her. But it couldn’t be Zoltan. She had to have a daughter. She could hold and cherish a daughter.
But what if she had a son? Would Zoltan react like Frederic had when Calliope had given birth to a son? Frederic had waited till the boy was old enough for school, and then he’d taken him to England. He’d left his mate and daughters behind. Abandoned.
A tear rolled down her cheek. What if she fell in love with Zoltan? How could she bear to lose him? Good God, she could lose him and a son. The pain she was feeling now could triple. “I cannot do this.” She jumped to her feet and ran for the door.