Resting Witch Face (Stay a Spell, #5)

by Juliette Cross

“What is this, Ruben? Not some kinky…?” His expression was downright devilish. “Some kinky what?”

I wasn’t going to voice what I was thinking because my brain couldn’t even process thoughts of a sex dungeon, black silk, and Ruben in charge.

“Put it on and tie it tight. I promise I have nothing salacious in mind.” As I tied the scarf around my eyes, I heard him add i...

Huh. This was new. I didn’t hesitate at all to make myself vulnerable in Ruben’s presence. Because I trusted him. Why did that realization hit me so hard? Because you didn’t before.

“The Texas Renaissance Festival?” I read it aloud as a question because I couldn’t believe Ruben would bring me to something like this. It was so not his style.

He stood at my side, having taken off his vest and cufflinks, his shirt sleeves rolled up, looking about as casual as I’d ever seen him. Besides when I’d seen him naked.

“She should be playing this afternoon, but I’ll bet you’re hungry. Let’s go find some meat on a stick, shall we?” He looked down and waggled his eyebrows suggestively. The laughter belted up my throat as I soaked in this boyish charm that I hadn’t seen in so, so long. His smile softened, but his gaze remained intense. “I can’t believe I’m going to actually see her.”

I glanced down at where he held my hand. He noticed and dropped it with a friendly smile. A small pang of loss stung me, but I smiled and we walked on.

Feeling a little awkward because this felt very much like a first date, or actually our second first date, I took in my surroundings.

“I’ve always wanted to come here but just never seemed to have the time.”

“I’m glad I brought you then. I’d like to be the one at your side when you do all the things you’ve always wanted to do.”

He was making lifelong affirmations, and I wasn’t there yet. Not even close. I was currently just at that first-date feeling of excitement and possibility. No matter that we’d already kissed and licked and fucked each other senseless. This was the beginning of starting over, and I needed to go at that pace to see if this was truly as right as it felt.

“Why are you eating anything?” I asked. “This isn’t your regular fare.”

Vampires ate regular food, but it was blood that gave them the sustenance they needed and the power to their magic. Ruben enjoyed only fine dining. When we were together before, I almost questioned if he was dating me for my culinary skills. Outside the Michelin star restaurants of New Orleans, I’d only seen him eat my meals. “But I need to get the full experience, don’t I?”

Then he bit into his giant turkey leg, looking utterly ridiculous. Because the sight of this ultra-refined man slumming it at a ren faire and eating a turkey leg roasted by the fry c...

“What?” I asked. “Nothing at all. I’m just enjoying that sound.” “Stop, Ruben. You’re making me self-conscious. It’s not like I’ve become a curmudgeon. I laugh.” “Not around me.” He didn’t say it accusingly, but it hurt all the same. I picked up my sausage on a stick. “I know,” I said softly, then added, “This is nice.”

When I glanced up, he was frozen with his gaze on my mouth. Oh, boy. I remembered that look. My body reacted with a tumble of my stomach and a tingling between my legs.

I was so used to doing the cooking, cleaning, and picking up after others. It had become second nature as the oldest sister and then as the owner and chef at the Cauldron. I was used to being in charge, but I was also used to taking care of everything and everyone else. Don’t get me wrong. My sisters always helped and chipped in, but I was the one who always led the charge in everything, even in the smallest of chores like clearing the table after dinner. It was my instinct to do it now, but Ruben’s little gesture of taking over made me feel…quite good actually.

Ruben put both hands on my waist and guided me off to the left, then pulled me to a stop. Two jesters came jogging up the lane while juggling, one with balls, the other with batons. The crowd clapped as they did some acrobatics while maintaining their balls and batons in the air.

I clapped, too, but Ruben didn’t. His hands remained firmly on my waist, his long fingers and broad palms seeping through the thin fabric of my dress to my skin.

He stroked his thumb along my hip where he lightly held onto me. My breathing quickened, my body luxuriating in his slight touch. It felt familiar and new at the same time. I was sure he was testing the waters to see if I might reject him. I didn’t want to. Not even a little, even though I still wasn’t sure if this was the wisest course. And yet, it felt so right.

When I glanced up at him, I didn’t miss the glint of silver.

Ruben looked across at the royal gathering. “You know, I was born about a hundred years after that king, but the costumes match fairly well.”

“I still forget you were born so long ago.” “Still spry for my years, darling,” he teased. “Don’t worry. I can still handle a young one like you.” Oh, I knew he could.

“Well, the villain doesn’t see himself as the villain. He sees himself as misunderstood. The world is stacked against him and has no compassion for his cause.”

We’d walked the entire festival, having stopped at the blacksmith shop to observe them forging a sword, seen the belly dancers perform, and watched the birds of prey show, but nothing, not one fantastic thing today, compared to the joust. To hear Jules tell me she was rooting for the villain after I professed to feel like one sometimes.

I often wondered if I’d handled myself differently the day we broke up, we’d still be together. But I knew that it would’ve only prolonged the inevitable. The truth was, she couldn’t trust me—some of those reasons outside of my control—and when she told me so, I behaved badly. A simple apology wouldn’t have corrected it because we were both in different places. She couldn’t change who she was and where she was in that pivotal time in her life, and I couldn’t see past my own desires and rage and hurt to see if we could mend it.

Giving her time had been the right thing because I had needed the space, too. To figure out exactly where I went wrong and how to alter the outcome in the future. I worried about how to prove that this time was different as we strolled past a flower and jewelry boutiq...

I’d memorized the map of this place in the past month when I knew I’d be taking her here.

I kept my gift behind my back and found her sitting on the outside of a bench toward the back. That was Jules. Never wanting to bring attention to herself, always trying to sit toward the back or blend into the landscape.

What she didn’t understand was that there was no way for her to blend in. I’d been refraining from punching random men all fucking day long. While Juliana always played it cool, her small smiles gave her an air of mystery. Her gray eyes were wide and stunning, adding to her mystique. Her flawless skin, petite body, and generous curves made a man’s fingers itch.

“Relieved to see me?” I asked. “Yes.” “It’s your own fault.” “How is it my fault?” she protested. I took her by the shoulders and turned her to face the glass window of the pub. “Because you’re so fucking beautiful. They can’t help themselves.” She tensed under my hands, staring at my reflection by the torchlight, saying nothing. I added gently, “I have something for you. Close your eyes.”

I knew this was part of my vampiric magic, warning me of my need for her to submit and yield to me. These submissive traits were not ones she wore on a regular basis. But I’d seen her portray them in the moments I’d needed them once before, and I hoped she would be able to give some of that back to me this time.

Right now, all I wanted was for her to wear my gift. I lifted the coronet of flowers and placed them on her head, then put my hands on her delicate shoulders. I leaned down. “Open.” She opened her eyes, then her lips quirked. “A crown of flowers?”

I never dropped her gaze in the glass, voice rumbling deep. “You’ve always been my queen, Juliana. You always will be.”

Once, she didn’t believe that I could or would be ruled by her. Over time, I’d proven her wrong. I’d shown her on countless occasions that I could stand down and take her orders. But I was speaking also of a more intimate meaning of the term queen.

“A red camellia.” I smirked at the pinprick in my chest. “How appropriate.” “Why’s that?” “Come on.” I ignored the question and nudged her toward the stage, finding us a spot toward the back where I knew she’d be comfortable. Just not too close to the flirty highlander.

It was true that a Renaissance fair wasn’t my kind of outing. If it hadn’t been for Juliana’s love of the singer currently starting her opening song onstage, I would have lived another three hundred years without attending one.

The truth was, the century or two after I was born wasn’t fantastic. The general lack of hygiene was enough of a disaster, not to mention the lack of plumbing, medicine, and a decent tailor. The twentieth century was much more improved, and the twenty-first even better. I loved a world speeding along in technology and progression at the pace I desire...

Her beatific expression was gilded by torchlight, her lips faintly moving to the words of Loreena. The softness in her eyes and mouth, no tension whatsoever. And with that crown of flowers, which was shockingly...

She was tentative but not unreceptive. And when she stepped into my arms, allowing me to pull her close, I felt like the black knight himself, relishing my victory.

It was a siren song to my blood, and I couldn’t keep my fangs from descending. It slayed me to the heart to have her in my arms, looking up at me with a soft sweetness.

She hadn’t once questioned my motives, which meant she understood them well. She also hadn’t protested, so that meant she was on board. Or, at least, that’s what I wanted to verify.

“Should we?” She swallowed nervously. “Speak of this now?” “Where’s my brave girl?” My timbre was low and caressing. “Hiding,” she admitted freely. Her attention was on my throat for a few seconds, then she lifted her gaze again. “Can’t we just pretend for now?” “Pretend that this is our actual first date? That we don’t have a past? That we haven’t hurt each other and denied what we’ve both wanted for years?”

“Should I pretend that I haven’t wanted all day long to push you to the ground, mount you on all fours, and fuck you like an animal? So I can be inside the only woman who was ever meant for me. Till you remember what we’ve both been missing and have been for twelve long fucking years.”

“You don’t have to tell me what we’ve lost,” she snapped, eyes shimmering pools by the torchlight. “I’m well aware.”

“Besides,” she scoffed, the sweetness of the moment now long gone, “are you going to stand here and make me feel ashamed like you haven’t slept with countless women since our break-up?”

“Ruben.” She stared questioningly, searchingly. We’d stopped dancing, but I didn’t look away for a second. “You’re not serious. You’ve been—? I mean, you’re not saying you haven’t—?”

“There is one thing you cannot ever do again,” I growled, trying to rein in my temper, “and that is question my loyalty. There has been no one since you. And never will be again. No one.”

“That makes no difference to my hardened heart. Or my fucking immortal soul.”