The Charmer

30

“Here it is a matter of honor for a man to speak honestly to a woman who asks his feelings for her. I know my cousins. They would not lie to you.”

He frowned at her thoughtfully. “I don’t think you realize what your position is. Rihlia claimed you as a sister, and I accepted her claim. You became my family. No one would dare treat you lightly.” He slanted her a mischievous look. “Nor will they court you without my permission.”

She eyed him. “You approved all the men who sent me gifts?”

He laughed. “No. Each was told before hand that no match would be permitted with the Lady Jasmine, but the Haunt are stubborn men, and much taken with you. Besides, Rihlia thought their gifts would cheer you.” A sly look crossed his face. “What did Keilor bring you?”

Jasmine felt her face flush. “N-nothing much.” That was true. There hadn’t been much to that nightie.

Jayems looked down at his project, and she could tell he was trying to hide his smirk. She hastily made her excuses and left.

She made it to her room without mishap and called for the lights. She made a tour of her indoor garden as she considered her problems.

They were both good men. She skittered away from the knowledge that her midnight fantasies always revolved around the dark haired cousin. He wasn’t the type to commit. She knew the danger of wishing for things that weren’t meant to be.

Keilor was impossibly sexy, and Fallon too charming for his own good. The men were like champagne and dark rum; one was bright and sparkly and made her insides bubble, while the other burnt the throat going down, but—oh! It lit a fire inside.

She’d always been a champagne girl, but lately she craved a more potent brew. Frightened, bold, sexy—that’s how Keilor made her feel. He had her teetering on the brink of a fatal loss of common sense. What if he pushed and she admitted her feelings?

She traced the centerline of a lemon leaf with her stiff right hand. Perhaps she was obsessing. What she needed was to get out of this room, collect Rihlia and hunt up an adventure. Jasmine grinned. After all, if she wasn’t having fun, she had only herself to blame.

***

“This isn’t what I had in mind,” Jasmine muttered. She watched Rihlia’s aunt, mother and cousin shuck their robes and wade, buck n***d, into a pool of warm mud.

Rihlia already sat in the repulsive stuff, her arms stretched out along the rough granite edge. The same stone formed the pools privacy wall. Large, roughly squared stones wove in a path through the spa’s neatly clipped grass.

A waterfall splashed down over one wall and collected in a circular pool. The wall directly opposite it held tall arched niches with stone statues representing the four seasons. Thinking to delay—indefinitely, if she had her way—playing in the mud, Jasmine decided to take a closer look.

She hadn’t taken two steps when Rihlia called out playfully, “Coward!”

Jasmine scowled. “I was just going to look around.” If she’d happened to take all day about it, that was all right, too. Rihlia gave her a knowing look, and she sighed, admitting defeat. She shucked her robe and got hastily into the pool, not nearly as comfortable with her nudity as the others.

Modesty not withstanding, it still took an effort of will to sink into the warm, clinging mud, and she was grateful she’d pinned her hair up in a twist.

Rihlia took one look at her face and burst out laughing. Even Urseya and Rhapsody chuckled.

“Don’t be such a sour pickle, dear,” Portae chided, dipping down to coat her chins in the mud. “Volcanic mud is famous for its healing properties. You’ll love it once you get used to it.”

Urseya smiled, catlike, and leaned back, dipping her long, dark hair into the muck. “It’s also extremely good for the skin.” She raised her head and sighed, leaning back against the edge of the pool. She looked entirely too satisfied. “Some of us need all the help we can get.”

Jasmine’s eyes narrowed and she saw Rihlia frown. If she’d suspected Urseya had no use for her before, it was confirmed now. Unfortunately, the subtle insult seemed to be lost on the older women, or at least Urseya’s mother.

“Don’t be silly, dear, you know you’re beautiful,” she told her daughter fondly, “and if I’ve read the signs right, Keilor has noticed as well.” She sent Rhapsody a sly look. “Perhaps we’ll be celebrating two weddings this year.”

Jasmine stiffened. “I thought Keilor was her cousin.”

“Oh, he is, dear, but not a first cousin,” Portae explained with a touch of condescension. “It would get very tiresome if we insisted on calling him ‘third cousin Keilor’ all the time, don’t you think?”

“Definitely,” a deep voice responded.

Jasmine looked up in shock to see Keilor standing at the edge of the pool. Embarrassed, she sank a bit lower in the concealing mud.

No one else seemed to take his presence amiss. Rhapsody inclined her head. “You have some message, Keilor?”

He nodded respectfully. “Your friend, Lady Liselle, is here. You said you wished to be notified the moment she arrived.”

“And you rushed over here to bring the message yourself?” Portae gave her daughter a significant look. “How thoughtful.”

“I was nearby,” he explained, extending a hand to assist Rhapsody from the pool.

Jasmine’s eyes got wide as the older woman thanked him as politely as if he’d just handed her a cup of tea. She walked over to the waterfall to rinse, as poised as if she were out for a stroll. When the procedure was repeated with his aunt, Jasmine hastily looked away. Even reminding herself that lots of cultures saw nothing wrong with nudity did little to help.

Urseya extended her hand, along with a sultry smile, and slithered out of the pool. She murmured something to Keilor that Jasmine didn’t quite catch, proudly standing before him in all her mud-slicked glory.