us and ignite every nerve ending in my flesh.
But I waited for her to close the distance. If I was giving her the power, she could control the timing as well. I just enjoyed the burn.
Following a fast spin to the raging drums, the scent of almonds overwhelmed me as her locks whipped across my face. I nearly reached out to stop her then, or at least help her after such a wild twirl, but she was still in control. And seductively moving away so that all I wanted was to draw her closer.
When her fingertips finally brushed my shoulder, the faint tickle of her nails sent a delicious shudder down my spine. With the connection made, I couldn’t hold back any longer. Reaching out, I threaded my fingers through hers and squeezed. She drew closer, until her lips hovered just below mine.
“Hi,” she whispered. Her moist lips glinted in the firelight.
“Who are you?” I asked.
“I could ask you the same thing.” She smirked.
“Then do it,” I prompted, contemplating the lie I would tell. The name I would use when pressed.
Her dancing stilled. She looked up at me from under her thick, dark lashes. “Does it matter?”
I shook my head. “Not really.”
As she started to rise on her toes, I met her halfway. Our lips meshed together with an intensity that made them swell. She tasted of cinnamon and another spice that felt foreign on my tongue.
And I loved it. Religious ritual be damned, once we started, I couldn’t stop drinking her in. Her kiss was potent. Like pure ambrosia coursed through my veins, making me invincible.
For the next two weeks, I was lost in her embrace. The world didn’t exist for me beyond her. When she called to me, my heart nearly liquified. Her laughter was like the delicate clinking of coins. She made me forget my temporary exile. Forget everything aside from her perfect face. Her delicate name.
Lelah.
The way the word rolled off my tongue was a music all its own, smooth and velvety. I didn’t think I could ever find a woman more perfect for me and I silently thanked Zeus every day for his punishment.
Of course, I hadn’t told Lelah who I really was. Or why I was in Media. I’d conjured a lie. Something vague about being a deserter from the Greek army and needing to remain hidden for a little while. It seemed like a good idea to make sure she never wanted me to meet her parents. Never expected me to marry her.
And like a good little co-conspirator, Lelah kept me hidden in her room; locked away right under her parents’ noses. The secrecy of the whole thing only added to the intensity of our passion. I can only imagine what they must have thought, their daughter suddenly spending so much time in her room. But neither one of us cared. All that mattered was that when we were apart, we both ached with a need we couldn’t explain.
There was this one night, her parents had some guests and Lelah was late returning with my contraband dinner. My stomach clenched and gurgled from hunger, but the minute she stepped through the threshold, those pains were forgotten.
I watched her from across the room as she set her oil lamp on a table and unrolled the cloth concealing my dinner. Her moments were hurried. I could tell she felt bad about keeping me waiting and was trying to make up for it.
While she was distracted arranging my meal, I slipped behind her and wrapped my arms around her waist. As my nose nuzzled into her thick hair, I was lost in scent of almonds.
“I’m sorry,” she said, turning around to face me. “I know you must be famished.”
“I am,” I admitted.
Her gaze shifted away from mine and her lip quivered the tiniest bit. She truly felt terrible for making her stowaway wait. She’d never looked more delicious.
I caught her chin and tilted her face back up to meet mine. “But the food can wait.” Sweeping the rolls and hunks of meat to the side, I lifted Lelah onto the table and found all the sustenance I needed that night in her kiss. Her lips parted softly