Light the Fire

2

I followed her gaze to the stall across from ours, run by the local butcher. Mom waved her hand at Sucy, the wife of the butcher and my mother's best friend. Her son, Derel, stood behind the beef kabobs, lemon shrimp, and meatballs they were selling, which I had to admit looked delicious. Behind him, Derel’s father tended a large pig roasting on a spit, which would be served at the end of the festival to the entire village. We had a giant volcano cake prepared to go with it, filled with strawberries and cream.

Derel’s head turned toward me and he caught me staring at him. I quickly looked away and busied myself in the back of the stall, but the damage was done. It didn’t help that Derel was distractingly handsome either, even if I hated to admit it. He had the rich dark skin of his grandparents, who’d moved here from the Earth Realm, with deep brown eyes and gorgeous full lips. Not that I’d spent time much staring at his lips before. Definitely not.

My mother nudged me with her elbow. "Go on, dance with him."

I groaned. "Do I have to?"

"Yes, you do.” She clasped her hands together. “I do wish the two of you would get married already. It's all been planned out for you for years!"

"Yes, that's the problem."

"You’re lucky. When I was younger I thought I’d never find a husband in this tiny village. If your father hadn't moved to town I'd probably still be alone. I tried to make it easier on you and your sisters by promising you to others as children. Krea and Parin will soon be married. Next it should be you and Derel."

I rolled my eyes. "I doubt Loka will want to marry the man you chose for her."

"Well, I had no idea she'd prefer women or I’d have chosen her a nice wife.” She suddenly straightened up. “Oh, here he comes. Be nice." She shuffled away and busied herself at the stall next to ours by offering the chandler some cookies, leaving me to face Derel alone.

As he approached I felt a sense of dread, but also excitement. The Fire Festival made the night feel like anything was possible, even something magical. Like me and Derel getting along for five minutes.

"Care to dance?" he asked in the least convincing voice ever.

I gave him a sickly sweet smile. "With you? Not really."

"Trust me, I’m only here because my mother insisted."

I glanced at my own mother, who gave me a big smile and nodded eagerly. I could practically see visions of dark-skinned grandchildren dancing through her head. "Fine, I’ll dance with you. Only because my mother will never stop pestering me until I do."

He took my hand in his strong grip and led me into the square to join the other dancing couples. This dance was an upbeat one, and we switched off clasping hands and spinning and twirling until my heart beat fast and I was almost—almost—having a good time with Derel. It didn’t hurt that he was an excellent dancer either.

When the music slowed he clasped my hand and pulled me close against his toned body. "Is your mother pressing you to get married like mine is?"

"Always." Though arranged marriages had fallen out of fashion generations ago—much to my mother’s dismay—from the time Derel and I were born we’d been promised to each other, whether we liked it or not. And trust me, we did not. The worst part was that if we hadn’t been forced together at every opportunity and told how perfect we were for each other, maybe we would have gotten along and fallen in love in our own time. Now we would never know.

"Maybe we should just do it already to get them off our backs,” he said, as his hand slowly smoothed down my back.

I let out a sharp laugh to hide how shocked I was at his words, and how much I didn't hate the idea when it came from him. Too bad I knew he wasn’t serious. How could he be? We hated each other—always had, always would. "Is that your version of a romantic proposal?"

"I’m going for practical, not romantic. But if romance is what you want..." His smoldering eyes met mine in a way that made my breath catch, especially as he pulled me tighter against him. My gaze dropped to his sensual mouth and I thought, not for the first time, what it would be like to kiss him. As his fingers curled around my chin and he looked at me in the same way, I knew he was thinking about it too.

I shook my head to break the spell he’d cast over me. "Definitely not. I’m never going to marry you."

Was that disappointment flashing across his face before it returned to his normal, disinterested look? Surely not. "Probably for the best. We’d break poor Falon’s heart."

"Falon?" I laughed. "Only because you’d spend less time with him if you were married."

He gave me a look dripping with disdain. "If that’s what you think then you’re more clueless than I thought.”

My smile fell. "What is that supposed to mean?"

“Nothing.” Derel shook his head.

Was he suggesting Falon had feelings for me? That was certainly news to me. Falon was our best friend, the one thing in common we had besides our parents, but he’d never been anything more—much to my dismay.

“This dress you have on is quite alluring,” Derel said. “Are you sure you’re not looking for a proposal tonight?”

“Maybe I am, but not from you.” None of the men I wanted would propose to me tonight, so it didn’t really matter. But I definitely hadn’t worn this for Derel, of all people. “What did you mean about Falon?”