Claire Delacroix by The Moonstone Page A

expected it to be.
    No, it was definitely more tantalizing than she had expected. In fact, Viviane felt a bit dizzy.
    “Why did you come?” she whispered, her voice a faint shadow of its usual strength.
    “To fetch you,” he murmured, his eyes glinting. “Why else?”
    Viviane’s knees melted. He had come just for her. She was right.
    Perfect!
    Niall lifted one hand to ease an errant curl back from her cheek. There was a heat in his eyes that made Viviane’s heart stop, yet she stood rooted to the spot, as though she had been turned to stone.
    Her heart hammered as he leaned closer, she closed her eyes when the warmth of his fingertips slid down the length of her neck. Viviane lifted her face and parted her lips, wanting only Niall’s kiss. He leaned closer, her heart raced, his breath fanned her cheek, she trembled.
    “Refills!” Paula chirped so close behind that both she and Niall jumped. Their hostess smiled cheerily and shoved the frosty glasses into their hands before she danced away.
    Viviane blinked, licked her lips and let the frost of the glass disperse the fire smoldering within her. She took a deep breath and reminded herself that they weren’t alone.
    Yet.
    But she could fix that, as soon as they returned to Ganges. She would take Niall to her room, Viviane decided impulsively, she wouldn’t let him stay anywhere else. He had ridden into the unknown in pursuit of her and now they wouldn’t be separated again. Her breath caught as she wondered whether she would take him to her bed tonight, let alone what he would do about it if she did.
    Viviane slanted a glance through her lashes at her knight and made a fairly good guess.
    Niall meanwhile sniffed his drink suspiciously. “And what is this concoction?”
    “It’s good, really.”
    “Aye? And what will it do to me? Is it a potion to cloy my wits?”
    “No, nothing like that!” Viviane laughed and her words spilled forth with haste now that she was reassured. “It’s kind of tart, both sweet and sour, and very cold. Like ale, but different -” she pursed her lips “- so not really like ale at all. And that’s salt on the rim, which makes an oddly pleasing tingle in contrast to how sour the drink is. It’s called a marguerita, although I don’t know why.”
    “So you have not been struck dumb after all,” Niall mused. He flicked a glance her way. “Though your speech has become most odd during this time.”
    Viviane felt herself blush scarlet again, but she couldn’t stop talking now that she had begun. “Well, I didn’t really have a choice, you know. I have to at least try to blend in, or not arouse suspicions that I don’t belong here. What could I do but dress as they do and speak as they do? I’m not a fairy or a sorceress myself and you would think that even a lesser immortal could tell that with just a glance, but still there’s no reason to draw attention to myself.”
    “Indeed.” Niall’s gaze lingered on her as though she were a puzzle he was trying to solve.
    “Indeed!” Viviane nodded firmly. “You know, you should try your marguerita, you wouldn’t want to hurt Paula’s feelings. It’s not precisely what you would expect and, to be honest -“ she lowered her voice and leaned closer “- I did wonder at first just what to expect, since our hostess is one of the fey.”
    “The fey?” Niall repeated tonelessly.
    Viviane had the sense that he was trying to keep his surprise from showing, though why he would be surprised by such a statement, she just couldn’t imagine.
    What other explanation could there possibly be?
    “Yes! Why, it’s perfectly obvious.” Viviane hastened to explain as he glanced across the deck. “She seems both old and young at the same time, which is, I understand, one of the characteristics of the little people. Not to mention, of course, her tiny build.”
    Viviane sipped beneath Niall’s watchful eye.
    In fact, he watched her so carefully that it was almost as though he was ensuring