Nerida took a slow sip of her tea, the delicate porcelain cup barely hiding the amused curve of her lips. "So, how are you getting along?" she asked, tilting her head slightly. "Do you like it here so far in my empire?"
The warmth of the tea curled against Maeve's hands, but it was nothing compared to the heat that had settled in her body since arriving a month ago. She sank into the plush cushions, the silk of her robe sliding over her skin as she shifted. Across the table, Soren moved gracefully, the play of muscle beneath his sun-kissed skin effortless as he leaned forward to refill her cup. His kilt sat low on his hips, teasing the edges of his bare toned abdomen. A bit of hair teased her gaze just below his belly button. When he met her eyes, a lazy smile tugged at his lips, as if he caught her looking and he sauntered away to stretch himself across Nerida's bed.
