Page 70 of Ale Storm

Rylana caught him gripping his chin and gazing down at a page as Rolf carried out a couple of cheese plates, the final round being served that evening.

“Are there any rockball recipes in there?” she asked.

Jildarin gazed at her. “Several, yes. It is a common dwarven meal that employs ground meat, nearly any kind of alcohol, and a pulverized flour made from stonenuts to add density. Sometimes a lot of density. Dwarves in general enjoy food with heft, but rockballs are considered pedestrian fare. Though the ingredients can be refined, such meals are often a mixture of whatever days-old meat is available and a thick beer-gravy used to somewhat cloak the dubious quality.” He curled a disdainful lip.

“Well, the king digs them.”

“The dwarven king?”

“I’ve been doing some research.” Rylana waggled her eyebrows at him. “Did you know there’s a former dwarven ambassador living in the elven enclave?”

“I did not. He is no longer employed in that position?”

“I think his current position is making Plant Master Chalora happy.”

Jildarin’s brow creased in puzzlement.

“Never mind. His name is Shalikon, and he said he dined at the royal table a number of times and assured me that King Ekton loves rockballs.”

Jildarin stroked his chin as he eyed the cookbooks again. “That is useful information, especially since the diplomat we spoke with this morning has not yet sent me the requested details on the king’s dietary preferences.” He flipped through the pages to one that had rockballs in the title and nodded to himself.

“She doesn’t want you to succeed as much as I do.” Rylana grinned at him, but Jildarin’s gaze was intent when it swung back to her. Intent and appreciative.

“You do want me to succeed. And you support me in my ambitions. You have become my most loyal and trusted ally, and you are…” Jildarin stretched his hand toward her, then looked at her chest.

“Sexy and alluring?” Rylana asked, a thrum of warmth spreading through her as she again remembered his touch that morning. With most of the patrons leaving for the night, maybe he would put aside his research, and they could spend a night in his lair without stacks of crates between them.

Jildarin’s gaze returned to her face. “Yes.”

The intensity in his emerald eyes made her flush with more heat—and anticipation. He took two steps toward her, and she lifted her arms, eager to embrace him. But he halted and looked toward another book—the cursed tome on human courting customs.

“It would be unwise for us to mate before… I have not fulfilled all the steps to observe the proper protocol.”

“I’m okay with that.”

“I…” Jildarin looked back to her, his gaze sweeping down the length of her body, and desire and anguish mingled in his eyes.

Rylana didn’t want to create conflict within him, but there was no real reason for them to pay attention to anything in that book, other than that he was using it as a guide to make sure he did everything in the proper human way. But she wanted him, damn it. And she knew from his incendiary gaze that he also wanted her.

Before she’d decided if it was wise, she caught herself unbuttoning her shirt. He tracked the movements of her fingers, his attention rapt.

“Jildarin,” she whispered. “I want to mate with you. I want you to take me, like an elk stag with a female deep in the primordial forest.”

Drawn by her increasingly visible skin, he’d taken two more steps, but he paused again. “You were listening to my brother give me advice.”

“I think we’ve established that I’m a notorious eavesdropper. I wanted to make sure he wasn’t telling you anything stupid.”

“And that was… not stupid?” Jildarin sounded like he didn’t believe it.

“No, it was hot. It is what I want.” Leaving her shirt dangling open, she pushed her bra down so that he could see her bared breasts and hoped they would make him want her so much that he would forget the book. Since he was decently educated on the subject of arousal, he would clearly be able to see that she spoke the truth, that she wanted him.

“They are beautiful,” he whispered huskily. “You are beautiful. I want to satisfy you and reward you for your loyalty.” He closed the distance between them and surprised her by not only touching her but pressing her back against the wall. “And I want to claim you. This human body aches for you.”

“I feel the same,” she said, the last word lost in a gasp. Sensations of pleasure swept through her as he stroked her breasts.

She gripped his shoulders and turned her mouth toward his, intending to rise up to kiss him. He kissed her first, crushing his lips to hers, fiery desire making him mold his body to hers. She pressed into him with equal eagerness, wanting to quench the painful ache he’d spoken of and let him feel tremendous pleasure. And, oh, how she longed for the same. She ran her hands from his shoulders, down his arms, and pushed them under the hem of his chef’s coat until her fingers met taut muscles and heated flesh. Magnificent. He was⁠—

A clatter came from the dining room, and they froze, probably both remembering at the same time that they weren’t alone on the premises.