To Seduce An Assassin (The Omaja Series Book 2)(52)

She offered him a faint smile. “No demon-children. I’m calming down a bit now.”

“Good, good.” He shoved his hands into the pockets on his dressing robe, avoiding eye contact. “Liel is bringing a cot. We can put it here by the fire if you want.”

“Yes, that would be wonderful.” She faced him and took a deep breath. “Sire, I’m sorry for interrupting your sleep like this.”

“Don’t apologize. I’ve apparently lodged you in a haunted bedroom, so I’m the one who’s to blame.”

She frowned. “No, no, you aren’t to blame. You’re—you’ve been nothing but polite and accommodating during my stay.”

He chuckled. “I was trying to make a joke.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” She looked down and hugged the fur blanket tighter around her slender frame.

“Graciella, stop apologizing. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Yes, I have,” she whispered.

Liel knocked on the door. “Sire, I have your cot.”

Yavi backed away from his guest. “Enter.”

The older man opened the door and carried in a wood-and-canvas cot. “Where should I put it, Sire?”

“Set it up in front of the fireplace.”

Graciella moved out of the way so Liel could do as requested. He opened the wooden slats, then tested the stretched canvas for sturdiness. “I hope that serves your purposes, Sire. Would you be needing anything else?”

“No, my good man. Go back to bed and take your rest.”

Liel bowed, left the room, and closed the door. Yavi barred it, then turned back to his roommate, who was peering at him with a look of nervous fear. He moved a little closer to her. “Are you all right?”

“No.” Her beautiful eyes filled with tears. She squeezed them shut, and the tears spilled over and ran down her cheeks.

He stepped closer, wanting to embrace her, but restrained himself. “What’s wrong, Graciella?” he asked softly.

“Me!” she sobbed, burying her face in her fur blanket.

He touched her shoulder lightly. “Is this about the ghost?”

“No.”

“What’s it about, then? Tell me,” he urged.

She raised her head. “I drugged you tonight. With the cake.”

“I know.”

“You know?” She looked mortified.

“Let’s just say it became pretty obvious as I was eating that second piece of cake. Which was delicious, by the way.”

She buried her face in the fur and sobbed aloud.

“Graciella,” he chided tenderly, placing a hand on her other shoulder and turning her to face him. “Why are you crying so?”

“I—I’m ashamed of myself,” she moaned into the fur.

He wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so he massaged her shoulders, resisting the urge to pull her into his arms. He asked as gently as he could, “Would you mind telling me why you did it? Were you—aware of the effects of Tongkat Ali?”

She looked up. Her lovely face was streaked with tears, strands of dark hair stuck in them along her forehead and cheeks. “Tong what?”

“Tongkat Ali. It’s an herb.”

“I didn’t know that’s what it was called. I got it from Wilten.”

He frowned. “Wilten gave you Tongkat Ali?”

She nodded guiltily. “She—she was trying to help me. Seduce you.”

He pressed his lips together to hide a smile. “Was she, now?”

“Please don’t be angry at her. She meant well.”

“All right. And why was she trying to help you seduce me, pray tell?”

Graciella swallowed. “She knew I…wanted to.”

By the Gods, hearing her admit it to his face was worse than the effects of the Tongkat. His cock surged against his heavy dressing robe, and he found himself thankful that his female guest’s attention was on his face.

He shifted uncomfortably. “So…she gave you this herb, and you baked it into a cake.”

“Yes.”

He had to know more. “And what were you planning to do once the Tongkat took effect?”

“Well, I didn’t know it was going to make you ill.” Fresh tears stung her eyes, and she squeezed them shut. “I’m so sorry. I’m embarrassed and ashamed.”

“Graciella, the Tongkat didn’t make me ill.”

“Yes, it did. I’m sure it was that herb. No one who ate the regular cakes felt sick afterward.”

He wanted to pull her into his arms and show her his “illness,” convince her he was not actually sick, but decided that was a bad idea. A terrible, horrible idea. “You, ah, didn’t answer my question. About what you were planning to do once the herb took effect.”

“Kiss you.”

“I see.” He cleared his throat.

She buried her face in the fur. “I’m sorry!”

“Graciella, I’m not angry with you.” While her face was hidden, he quickly adjusted the front of his robe.

She raised her head, eyes brimming with more tears. “But that’s not all I’ve done to you, Sire!”

“Oh?”

“I snuck into your room last night.”