"Have a care, Meredith. I don't like sarcasm directed at me."
"And I don't like having my heart cut out for your pleasure." The moment I said it, I knew it was a mistake.
Her eyes narrowed. "When I cut your heart out, Meredith, you'll know it." The mirror spilled into fog, then was suddenly reflective again. I stared at myself in the mirror, my pulse thudding in my throat.
"Having your heart cut out," Galen said. "Poor, poor choice of words."
"I know," I said.
"In the future," Doyle said, "keep your temper. Andais doesn't need any help coming up with awful ideas."
I pushed Kitto away. I lifted my foot off the bed, carefully, using the bedside table to stand up.
"What are you doing?" Doyle asked.
"I am going to clean some of this blood and dirt off, then go to bed." I looked at the men gathered in the room. "Who wants to help me run my bath?"
The silence was suddenly very thick. The men looked at one another as if not sure what to do, or say. Galen stepped forward, gave me his hand to help me stand. I took the hand, but shook my head. "You can't be with me tonight, Galen. It has to be someone who can finish what we start."
He looked at the floor for a second or two, then up. "Oh." He helped me back to the bed and I let him do it, then he walked to the chair where he'd thrown his leather jacket. "I'm going to see about getting a second room next to this one, then I'm going for a walk. Who's going with me?"
They all looked at each other again, little eye flits from one to the other. No one seemed to know how to handle the situation. "How does the queen choose between you all?" I asked.
"She simply requests the guard, or guards, she wishes to have for the evening," Doyle said.
"Don't you have a preference?" Frost asked, and there was something almost hurt in his tone.
"You say that like there's a bad choice here. There is no bad choice; you are all lovely."
"I have had my release with Meredith," Doyle said, "so I will bow out for tonight."
That got everyone's attention, and Doyle had to explain very briefly exactly what he meant by the comment. Frost and Rhys looked at each other, and suddenly there was a tension in the air that hadn't been there before.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"You must choose, Meredith," Frost said.
"Why?" I asked.
Galen answered, "You can't bring it down to just two of us without the danger of a duel."
"It's not just two, it's three," I said.
They all looked at me, then slowly at the goblin still on the bed. He looked as surprised as they did. He stared back at us with large eyes. He looked almost frightened. "I would never presume to compete with the sidhe."
"Kitto is coming in the bathroom regardless of who else comes in," I said.
Every pair of eyes in the room swiveled back to me. "What did you say?" Doyle asked.
"You heard me. I want the alliance with the goblins sealed, that means I have to share flesh with Kitto, and that's what I'm going to do."
Galen went for the door. "I'll be back later."
"Wait for me," Rhys said.
"You're leaving?" I asked.
"As much as I want you, Merry, I don't do goblins." He walked out with Galen; they shut the door behind them, and Doyle locked it.
"Does this mean you're staying?" I asked.
"I will guard the outer door," Doyle said.
"What if we wish to use the bed?" Frost asked.
Doyle looked thoughtful, then shrugged. "I can wait just outside the room if you feel the need
of the bed."
There was a little more negotiating. Frost wanted it clear that he did not have to touch the goblin. I agreed. Frost picked me up and carried me into the bathroom. Kitto was already in the room running the water for the bath. He glanced up as we entered. He'd taken off Galen's shirt and was back to just his silver thong. He said nothing to us, just watched us with his huge blue eyes, one hand trailing under the water as it poured from the faucet.
Frost looked around the small room. He finally sat me on the counter by the sink. He stood in front of me, and suddenly it was awkward. The kiss in the car had been wonderful, but it was the first time Frost and I had ever touched each other. Now suddenly we were supposed to have sex-with an audience.
"Awkward, isn't it?" I said.
He nodded. The movement sent that thin veil of silver hair gliding around his body. He reached out, slowly, tentatively, to the dress's jacket. He pushed the velvet off my shoulders, slowly, sliding it over my arms. I started to help him with the sleeves, but he said, "No, let me."
I put my hands back at my sides, and he pulled the sleeves off one hand, then the other. He dropped the jacket to the floor. He ran the tips of his fingers down the bare skin of my shoulders. It raised goose bumps down to my fingertips.
"Undo your hair," I said.
He took out the first bone clip, then the second, and the hair fell around him in a glorious spill of Christmas-tree tinsel. I reached out and grabbed a handful of it. It looked like silver wire, but it felt soft as satin, with a texture like spun silk.
He stepped close enough that his legs brushed mine. He ran his hands over my bare arms. His touches were so tentative, as if he was afraid to caress me. "If you will lean forward, I will unzip the dress."
I did what he asked, leaning my head against his chest. The sheer material of his shirt was scratchy, but his hands as they unzipped the dress were slow, gentle. His fingertips slid inside the open dress, circling the smooth skin of my back. I tried to pull the shirt out of his pants, but it wouldn't budge. "I can't get the shirt out."