Broken Dove (Fantasyland #4)(56)

Distance was good. I could get my head sorted if he wasn’t close. Cuddling was bad. I mean, in many circumstances, it was good, way good. But, at this juncture, it was also bad. Way bad.

He got in the sleigh, grabbed the reins and sat, pulling the furs over his lap. He clicked his teeth, snapped the reins and off we went.

Okay, getting my head together…apparently Apollo thought last night we’d broken the seal. So instead of it happening and him being way cool about it and putting it behind us, he thought our relationship had changed.

And I could not say I wasn’t down with that.

In fact, after last night and the way he’d been today, I was so down with that.

But I knew I shouldn’t be.

Things with us were weird and complicated. He told me he’d made love to me last night, not his dead wife, and I believed him. I believed him because the way he said it, the way he was behaving with me made me believe him. But more, I remembered every minute of last night and he’d not once slipped and called me Ilsa or “my beauty.”

He’d only used the names he had for me.

So it was just me for him.

And as for him, not once, not even once did I think of Pol.

So it was just him for me.

But still.

We’d been in each other’s presence—I counted—six times. And if you counted our uncomfortable meal last night, we’d only had one semi-kind-of-date and that date went far from well.

This shift wasn’t right.

Or, if not exactly right, it was too fast.

The sleigh slid over the snow and I worried my lip as it did. Then I pressed my lips together when his arm moved along the back of my seat, curled around me and pulled me across the seat and into him. Without delay, once he got me close, he curved me closer.

Oh boy.

“Apollo?” I called.

“Yes, dove,” he muttered.

God, really, him calling me “dove” was all kinds of lovely.

“Um…are we, have we…”

Just suck it up and talk to him about it, Ils…f*ck, Madeleine!

I took in a deep breath and asked, “Has the state of play between us changed?”

His deep voice sounded puzzled when he asked back, “The state of play?”

I pulled up courage and tipped my head back to look at him to see him already looking down at me.

Yes, puzzled.

“You seem, I mean…” I drew in breath. “You’re being very affectionate.”

His head tipped to the side. “This troubles you?”

“We were, uh…kind of fighting yesterday and, of course, the day before, and, well, dinner wasn’t all that—”

His eyes started dancing so I shut up and thus he could say, “We weren’t fighting last night.”

We absolutely weren’t.

“No,” I agreed breathily.

“And I much enjoyed last night.”

I’d got that. Still, it felt nice him confirming it.

“Good.” I was still talking breathily.

He pulled me closer and up a bit so we were nearly face-to-face. That was, nearly face-to-face with our faces about an inch away.

“Adela tea,” he began, his voice deeper than normal and warmer than normal and that was a double whammy. “Comes from adela trees. Have the gods of my world been explained to you?”

I nodded. I knew all about their gods and the fact that they had a bunch of them. “Gaston told me about them.”

He nodded back. “Then you know that Adele is the goddess of love. And she created those trees. The bark of those trees, if taken and infused with water, is what makes adela tea. These trees have many uses and are sacred. The tea is one of those uses. It is understood the goddess Adele created it to enhance the physical connection along with the emotional connection, if one is to be had, between lovers. It works as I explained before but it also breaks down inhibitions.”

Oh, it certainly did that.

His arm gave me a squeeze before he kept explaining. “Even if we don’t realize it, things in our head can build barriers to sharing in a variety of ways, including during bedplay. With those swept away, lovers can understand each other better. What pleasures them. Where to touch that feels best. Smells, noises, tastes that enhance gratification.”

It certainly did that, too.

Apollo wasn’t done.

“And, through future relations, once had, the understanding of all this will never be lost, even if the tea isn’t consumed. Therefore, it continues to make relations all that more intense, deeper, a beautiful experience every time you engage in it.”

Oh boy.

That sounded awesome.

He kept going.

“And if there is an emotional connection, or one that is building, all this serves to enhance that as well, most precisely, trust.”

His face got closer to mine so he was now only half an inch away and my breath caught.

“Amongst the other things, I feel that is what it’s done for us, my poppy. You must admit, regardless of the unusual circumstances that brought us together, we would not argue with such passion if there was not some emotional connection on which to feed that passion.”

This made sense, of course, but there was the history that came before, for both of us, which could actually be the cause of said “passion.”