Since her first kiss had been reasonably successful, she decided that practicing saying “I love you,” wasn’t a completely idiotic idea.
As there weren’t exactly a plethora of mirrors around the castle, when she left the gardens, strolled into the great hall and spied the shiny shield hanging on the wall near the hearth, she yielded to impulse, dragged a chair over to it and hopped up, peering at her reflection.
She wanted the moment tonight to be just right. She didn’t want to stutter or stammer around.
“I love you,” she told the shield softly.
It hadn’t come out quite right. It was a good thing she’d decided to practice.
She wet her lips and tried it again. “I love you,” she said tenderly.
“I love you,” she said firmly.
“I love you,” she tried a sexy voice. Reflecting a moment, she decided it was probably better that she just speak normally. She didn’t do throaty well.
Saying it felt good, she thought, staring at her reflection. She’d been holding it so tightly inside her that she had begun to feel like a pressure-cooker about to blow her lid off. She’d never been able to keep her feelings to herself. It wasn’t part of her make-up, any more than casual sex was.
She smiled radiantly at the shield, pretending it was Dageus. The three simple words just didn’t seem like enough. Love was so much larger than words.
“I love you, I love you, I love you. I love you more than chocolate. I love you more than the whole world is big.” She paused, thinking, searching for a way to explain what she felt. “I love you more than artifacts. I love you so much it makes my toes curl just thinking about it.”
Pushing her hair back from her face, she donned her most sincere expression. “I love you.”
“You can have the confounded shield if you love it that much, lass,” Dageus said, sounding utterly bewildered.
Chloe felt all the blood drain from her face.
She swallowed hard. Several times. Oh, God, she thought dismally, was it humanly possible to feel any more stupid?
She shifted awkwardly on the chair, cleared her throat and stared down at the floor, thinking frantically, trying to come up with some excuse for what she’d just been doing. Back rigidly to him, she began to babble. “It’s … er, not the shield, um, you know. I wasn’t really talking to the shield, I just couldn’t find a mirror and this is just a little positive reinforcement thingie I do sometimes. I read it in a book somewhere that it boosted self-confidence and … er, engendered a general sense of well-being, and it really does work, you should try it sometime,” she said brightly.
She realized she was talking with her hands, gesturing a bit wildly, so she clasped them firmly behind her back.
He remained silent behind her, stressing her out completely, and she began babbling again. “What I’m saying is that I really don’t want the shield. I mean, I think you’ve given me more than enough artifacts already, and I couldn’t ask for anything else, so if you’ll just go away now I’ll resume my exercises. It’s important that one does them alone.”
More silence.
What on earth was he thinking? Was he going to burst into laughter? Was he smiling? She peered in the shield, but since she was up on the chair, he was several feet lower than she was and she couldn’t see him.
“Dageus?” she said warily, refusing to turn. If she looked at him now, she might start crying. She’d so wanted the moment tonight to be tender and romantic, and damn it all, now if she said it to him tonight, he’d know she’d been practicing and he’d think she was a total dweeb!
“Aye, lass?” he said finally, slowly.
“Why aren’t you going away?” she asked tightly.
A long pause, then a cautious, “If you doona mind, lass, I’d like to watch.”
She closed her eyes. Was he making fun of her? “Absolutely not.”
“With all the things we’ve done together, there’s something you wouldn’t let me watch? I think ’tis a bit late to be getting self-conscious around me,” he said. She couldn’t decide if she was picking up a hint of lazy amusement in his voice or not.
“Go. A. Way,” she gritted.
He didn’t. She could feel him standing there, his regard an intense pressure on the back of her skull.
“Chloe-lass,” he said then, softly. Tenderly. “Turn around, sweet.”
He knew, she thought, absolutely mortified. Nobody would fall for that pathetic excuse she’d made up.
But this wasn’t the moment she’d picked. She’d had it all planned out and he was ruining it for her!