Fantasyland: Midnight Soul Part 79

Dax was out of his seat and charging in her direction.

He didn't even know she was coming in ours.

I looked to Josette.

She felt my regard and looked to me.

I smiled.

She let out a giggle.

"Are you all right?"

At his rumble, my attention returned to five feet away where Dax had one hand (now unnecessarily) on her waist steadying her, the other one held her clutch, which he'd clearly collected on his way.

Circe had her head tipped back, staring up at him, wide-eyed with lips parted, taking the clutch from him and doing this like her hand was moving through mola.s.ses.

Enchanting.

However, in his care, Dax misinterpreted her look for he moved into her protectively, bent his neck and cast his concerned gaze down to her feet, asking, "Did you twist an ankle? Are you hurt?"

Circe stared mutely at his profile.

He looked again to her.

"Do you need some ice?" he queried.

She remained silent, staring at him.

Then, suddenly, she appeared to get visibly woozy, her torso swaying gracefully (if a bit drunkenly) and in order not to collapse at his feet, she lifted a hand and placed it on his biceps.

At her touch, they both froze.

In fact, it felt like the entirety of the room froze.

I held my breath.

They gazed into each other's eyes.

Circe started swaying again.

This time...

Forward.

I felt my lips curl up in what I knew was undisguised glee.

I barely heard Dax's next.

But I heard it.

"Honey," he whispered, a teasing lilt to his deep voice, most a.s.suredly a man who knew his effect on women, and right then most a.s.suredly pleased he was having that effect on Circe. "You need to speak."

"You're..." Circe trailed off but began again. "You are..."

Not taking his one hand from her waist, Dax lifted his other in the (minimal) s.p.a.ce between them, an offer for her to take it in greeting.

"Dax Lahn," he introduced at the same exact time she breathed, "Mine."

I saw his very broad shoulders straighten with surprise at her a.s.sertion.

Then I saw the color drain from her face.

"s.h.i.t, f.u.c.k, f.u.c.k," Noc bit out low, the vicinity of his voice telling me he was standing behind my chair.

"I'm sorry," Circe said, swaying again.

This time back.

Drat!

"So, so sorry. So...very...sorry," she chanted, her cheeks now flaming.

She took a hasty step away out of Dax's hold, glanced at our table and then turned on her attractive champagne-colored, spike-heeled sandal and dashed gracefully (thank the G.o.ddess Adele, no trips, or worse, falls) out of the restaurant.

Drat!

I quickly pushed back my chair, aiming it away from Noc who was still standing behind me. I rose and darted after her.

"Frannie," Noc called on a clip.

"Do you know her?" Dax asked as I pa.s.sed him.

I kept darting even as I looked over my shoulder and a.s.sured, "Give me but a moment. We'll be back."

I only caught half a glance at Noc, and seeing in that scant second his expression, I had a feeling he might also offer spankings for other reasons.

I couldn't think of that.

I had to get to Circe, calm her down and then get her to our table, smooth things out and do what clearly would be minimal work at finishing making a match.

I made it through the seating area, the bar, the reception and out the front door.

I looked right.

No Circe.

I looked left and saw her rolling up on her toes with impatience as she shouted after the black-short-pants-white-shirt-wearing fellow who took Noc's SUV when we'd arrived and drove it away (Noc's explanation: a "valet").

"Please hurry!" I heard her cry after him. "It's an emergency!"

Blast!

"Circe," I called.

She whipped my way, looking at me, beyond me fearfully, then at me, all in a blink of an eye.

And then her beautiful face grew hard.

I hurried to her (as much as I hurried, it was undignified to do thus so I didn't do it, shall we say, noticeably) and I was three feet away when she lifted a hand, jabbed a pointed finger at the restaurant and accused, "This is what Valentine was up to and I can see she roped you into it too."

I stopped walking and started speaking, "Circe, we-"

She leaned toward me, jabbing her hand again at the building, and hissed, "I made a fool of myself in there."

Ah.

That was her concern.

I smiled at her. "You absolutely did not. You couldn't have made a more effective entrance if we'd practiced it."

She leaned back, her face still set. "Yes. However, we didn't practice it because I had no idea what I was walking into."

"I think it's pretty clear it went better this way," I shared as if I was a teacher instructing a student.

"You do?" she asked, but she didn't wish an answer for she immediately did that herself. "Well I don't."

I didn't understand.

"He's clearly taken with you," I noted. "And he's thus and you barely spoke a word."

"Has it occurred to you I don't want him to be taken with me?" she shot back.

How absurd.

I'd simply witnessed what had happened in there.

She felt it.

"Circe, you may try to convince yourself-"

I only got half of that out and stopped talking altogether for she was talking over me.

"No. It hasn't occurred to you, or Valentine. If it had, you wouldn't have orchestrated that debacle I was just forced to perpetrate."

It was then I felt the tickle of unease in my belly.

"My dear, that was not a debacle. It was-"

"Humiliating," she spat.

I swung back at the emotion in her tone then took a step forward, lifting a hand her way.

"Please, let me expla-"

She didn't even allow me to finish that.

"No explanation needed," she snapped, looked high above my shoulder and a change came over her face that cut straight through to the bone. "Did you know?" she asked, her voice no longer angry, but broken.

Oh no.

"Circe," Noc said gently.

"You knew," she whispered, the expression on her face now one of a woman betrayed.

b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l.

Keeping my focus on Circe and not looking at Noc, who I felt now at my back, I shook my still-lifted hand, stating swiftly, "He tried to talk me out of it."

Her attention sliced to me, she hid the hurt and her face twisted. "Of course he did. He's not that kind of man. But you're just that kind of woman, aren't you?"

The verbal strike came so unexpected I couldn't stop myself from reacting physically, doing this like I'd been slapped.

"Circe." Her name from Noc's lips now came as a growl.

A disappointed one.

And a warning one.

She turned her gaze to him. "She is," she bit off. "And you should know that." She looked to me. "I know all about you. Baldur used to talk about you. He thought you were magnificent. Any time he mentioned you it seemed he was half in love with you."

This was not a compliment.

Far from it.

And the idea of King Baldur, the Loathsome-But-Thankfully-Now-Dead finding me magnificent turned my stomach nauseatingly.

"I see you think what happened in there was not what actually happened in there," Noc returned, "seeing as Lahn is right now prowling the foyer like a caged animal, looking for any excuse to march out here to check on you."

Her pallor rose instantly as her eyes darted toward the doors to the restaurant.

This was not the right thing to say.

I stepped closer to her and immediately tried to soothe her fears. "He won't. Noc will go to him." I looked up at him. "And now might be a good time to do that, darling," I suggested.

"No f.u.c.kin' way," he denied.

"I'll be all right," I a.s.sured him.