Duada arched his brows. “You’re asking me what my duties in the Summerland Court entail?”
She nodded.
He took a spoonful of ice cream before answered, “Excellent question. During the war, I was in charge of Her Majesty’s personal safety and the order of her court. These days I mostly indulge in excess… I hazard, borrowing her term. I dallied with someone I wasn’t supposed to. So Queenie sent me here so I can reflect on my, uhm, shortcomings.”
“Scandal, huh? Why am I not surprised?”
Duada smirked. “You shouldn’t be. You know that I’m so irresistible I break many hearts in my wake. You can’t fault me for that.”
Don’t give him the ammo. Ignore that. Just ignore…
“You said war. When did that happen? I thought faefolks were a peace-loving bunch. From the stories I heard when I was a kid, your people like to sing and dance and stuff. There’s no mention at all about a war.” She raked her gaze over him. “And aren’t faeries supposed to be tiny winged creatures? Like Tinkerbell.”
“What a misguided notion you have about my kin.” Duada flicked his fingers on her forehead.
She winced.
“I’m a High Fae. Don’t lump me together with the Lesser Fae.” He ate another scoop of ice cream. “Contrary to your fairytales, we like to wage wars and our history is just as bloody and garish as you humans. I slaughtered many of my kind to pave Her Majesty’s way to her throne. But that was over a century ago. The Summerland Court is mostly idyllic these days. I shall enjoy it while it lasts. Although if I must say, all play and no work make me a dull man.”
“Century? How old are you?”
“Has anyone told you it’s not polite to ask a man’s age?”
She rolled her eyes. “So you actually can fight?”
He leaned closer with a conspiratorial grin. “I know what you’re thinking, I’m too refined-looking to wield a blade like a grunt and spill blood, am I right?”
“I think you need a reality check once in a while. Who did you fight during the war?”
Duada didn’t answer right away. He pushed his hair off his face and his gaze drifted to the half-drawn window in her room, staring into something that wasn’t there. “My mother,” he finally said. “the Queen is my aunt.”
“Your mother?” Jasmine echoed. “Why did you side with your aunt?”
“Because, my sweet, my mother was a usurper, a jealous witch, wicked at heart. She wanted everything and gained nothing. The fae court is very complicated, you see. The politics, the intrigue and the backstabbing. You can really trust no one and most fae carry their own agenda. We are ruthless beings when it comes to playing a game of power. Once you enter a court, you must pick an alliance. If you made a poor choice, chances are, you’re going to die.”
“So you must pick the right side then,” she hedged.
“I picked the righteous side.” A wan smile crept across his face. “My mother killed my older brother and others who were dear to me. Her betrayal was hideous.”
Yikes. “And your father? Is he still alive?”
He shook his head slightly. “My father perished when I was a babe. Rumor has it my mother had brought about his early demise as well. I wouldn’t know because she took that secret to her grave. She never admitted it when I confronted her. Of course, why would she?”
An awkward silence stretched between them.
“I’m sorry about your family,” Jasmine said in a quiet voice. “I shouldn’t have asked.”
Duada flicked his fingers again on her forehead.
Ouch. She winced.
“All this doom and gloom makes me want a stiff one.”
Jasmine gave him a dirty look.
“A drink, that is. Why, Jasmine, you have a dirty mind.” He laughed.
She wanted to bang her head against the wall. “Just go. Thank you for the ice cream. It’s nice of you to think of me.”
Duada got up to his feet and sketched her a flourish bow. “Does the Hagen-Daz make you feel better?”
She gave a little nod. “It’s nice talking to you, too.” When you’re not being a jerk.
“Don’t stay up too late. You want to look your best when you see him tomorrow.”
“I won’t.”
“Good night, Jasmine.”
And with that, Duada vanished.
She finished her ice cream and put the spoons in the kitchen sink. She brushed her teeth again and went to bed.
This time, sleep came to her easily.
Five
When Jasmine awoke in the morning, she found a note written in curling, elaborate bottle-green script laying on the pillow beside her. When she picked it up to read it, she was stunned to find a crisp stack of hundred dollar bills hidden beneath it.
The note read:
Jasmine—
I assume this will cover your missed earnings for today. Your date, William, will arrive to collect you around ten in the morning. I apologize for having missed the mark so severely before, and hope that this date will prove more fruitful for you.
Yours,
Prince Duada
She rolled her eyes. That cocky fae was starting to get on her nerves. Does he always have to call himself “Prince” every time?
She glanced over to see that the clock already said 9:15.
“Shit,” she grumbled and vaulted out of bed to get dressed. To her mild surprise, there was already a beautiful, expensive-looking white dress stretched out over the little ottoman in her bedroom, a pair of strappy sandals rested on the floor beside it. She dressed quickly, applied just enough makeup to feel like she gave it a good shot, and was ready and waiting by the time her date knocked on the door at exactly ten o’clock.
“Please don’t screw me over again,” she muttered anxiously to herself as she went to answer the door. When she opened it, she was pleasantly stunned.
This man was easily the handsomest one yet, with an affable smile, warm brown eyes, and sandy-brown hair. He looked like a model. Or a surfer. Or a model for a surfboard company.
“Hey, I’m Bill. William Fairley, but everyone calls me Bill. I’m hoping you’re Jasmine,” he said in a kind, deep voice. “Jasmine Duval, right?”
“Yep, you found me,” she replied.
“Wow. You’re even more beautiful than I expected,” he said, “I guess, I’m the lucky one today!”
Jasmine blushed. “Oh, thank you. So… what is the game plan for today?”
“Well, there’s this really cool music festival in this little hippy-dippy town about an hour upstate, and I was hoping you would come with me. It’s a really fun atmosphere, great for people watching. Are you into music?” he asked.
“Into music?” she repeated incredulously. “Sure.”
“Awesome.”
William didn’t come in a Porsche or ask her to drive to their date. He led her over to an eight-year old Jeep that he explained he had bought when he graduated from high school—his dream car he said—after saving his part-time job money since he was sixteen. After college, he worked in the corporate world for a while until he decided that it wasn’t for him. Now he worked as a personal trainer and owned a small gym in Trenton. He was an outdoor kind of guy, and was into hunting, hiking, and camping.
“So if we ever get stranded on a deserted island, I can count on you to keep us alive until we get rescued, right?” said Jasmine cheekily.
“You betcha.” He winked. “Actually, I have a YouTube channel where I demonstrate basic bushcraft and—“
“Bush-what?”
“Bushcraft. Wilderness survival skills. I made some videos showing people how to make axes and knives from stone. Sometimes people find themselves in a dire situation without any tools. I teach people how to build shelter or start a fire without matches.”
Jasmine widened her eyes, totally impressed. “Without matches?”
“Not everyone comes into the woods prepared, especially in emergency situations.”
“True. Can you hunt
with bow and arrow?”
“Yesserie.”
“What do you usually hunt?”
“Mostly rabbits. Pheasants, wild turkeys. White tails.”
“White tails?”
“Deer. Do you like game?”
“I’ve tried venison steak a couple times. Not a big fan.”
“Maybe you never had one that was properly processed. If you’re interested, we should go camping sometime. Are you adventurous?”
She wrinkled her nose. “The most adventurous thing I’ve done was ordering Hawaiian pizza. But hey, never say never. Maybe with the right partner in crime, I might try stuff like that.”
He smiled. “Perfect. I’ll have you converted into a survivalist in no time.”
They spent the entire ride talking and laughing, sharing childhood stories and swapping silly jokes. He was so easy to talk to and far more relaxed than either of the other two dates. He had a laugh that warmed her heart and when he smiled extra wide, there were two perfect dimples in his cheeks. At the festival, they walked around, taking in the quirky local culture and swaying to the fantastic performances onstage. As they passed through the crowds, William introduced her to various friends and acquaintances; endlessly thoughtful and kind to everyone they spoke to. As the day wore on, they began talking about their dreams and aspirations, comparing personal anecdotes and philosophies. He bought them both ice cream cones from a vendor and they sat in the soft grass, listening to the music and enjoying each other’s company.
William was perfect: tall, gorgeous, low-key, and great to hang out with. Jasmine hadn’t laughed this much in ages, and she began wondering what the catch was. And when he gave her a respectful, chaste kiss at the end of the night before dropping her off at her apartment, she realized what it was.
There was no spark.
Not a romantic one, anyway. She realized why it was so easy to hang out with him— it was almost like spending time with Enzo, her best friend. William didn’t intimidate her because the only chemistry she felt with him was purely platonic. Despite his astonishing good looks and fantastic personality, she just couldn’t shake the feeling that they were meant to have a solid friendship rather than a whirlwind romance.
But as she crawled into bed that night she wondered if maybe this was what she was doing wrong all along—she was looking for something that simply didn’t exist. Perhaps there was no Prince Charming to scoop her up on a white horse and ride off into a fairy tale sunset. Maybe a good, strong friendship was meant to be the basis for a good, strong romance.
Besides, she reasoned as she drifted off to sleep, this was only the first date. Maybe there was still a chance that the spark would kindle later on… right?
Six
Duada watched over the top of his glasses from his vantage point of a bus stop down the street as Jasmine and William exchanged a kiss. He had been trying to keep his attention on the magazine he was reading, particularly because the glamour he was using to keep his presence discrete relied on him being able to concentrate, but he kept finding his gaze drifting up to the two of them.
For the first time in what felt like centuries, Duada wasn’t sure what he felt as he watched the brief kiss the two of them exchanged.
There was a blush in her face. Her hand brushed against him, her eyes heavy-lidded. Duada could read the male’s face like an open book, too. He liked her, and there was genuine appreciation in his eyes, not mere lust. They truly seemed to enjoy each other’s company, he thought. Was this what the humans called ‘chemistry?’
In some ways, he thought he should be appreciating his handiwork. There was many a human matchmaker who couldn’t set up something as functional as this, and he had even surprised himself with the quality of man that Bill seemed to be. He was perhaps a bit shy, shyer than Duada would have been by a long shot, and he didn’t have the same status as Duada, of course, so there was really no way to compare—
He stopped himself, pursing his lips. Why was he comparing himself to the likes of that human? Not that there was any comparison to be made—
Duada knew himself damn well to be matchless.
Maybe he was just concerned over Jasmine’s well-being, he realized, and the thought was… surprising, though not as unwelcome as he might have thought before coming to Newark and meeting this resilient human woman.
And resilient she was, he admitted to himself as he watched her eyes look after Bill’s car as it pulled away a few moments later. Maybe Duada had been too harsh on the woman when he first arrived. He rather thought his teasing was all in good fun, but in hindsight, Jasmine had been a lot more patient with him than he might have been in her situation.
And her patience had paid off in the end, it seemed. She really seemed to like Bill, and despite Duada’s best efforts, he couldn’t think of very much in the man that should be considered a ‘deal-breaker.’ He’d known that when he picked William out for her, and picking out such a man for her entailed knowing quite a bit about Jasmine herself.
He folded his magazine under his arm and stood up with a huff, turning to start walking away from her apartment and further down the street towards the hotel where he was staying.
He should be pleased with a job well done. He’d just watched Jasmine finish a perfectly good date, and he could read the satisfaction in her eyes as plain as day. By all rights, he should be zipping over to her door and gloating about his success in front of her for a while before asking that she free him from his guardianship. And just like that, he’d be back where he belonged, enjoying every pleasure the Summerland Court had to offer and rubbing it in his aunt’s face that her little ploy to have him make a fool of himself had backfired. He’d exceeded his own expectations, even, and he had high expectations.
Why, then, did he not feel an ounce of the exhilaration he expected to be feeling? He stuck his hands in his pockets as he walked; his eyes roving over the streetlights around him cast a faint light on everything. The world of humans was so radically different than what he was used to. So much bustle, so much machinery, and so much haste to get anything done or go anywhere. It was a noisy, hot mess, but even he had to admit, it wasn’t without its charms.
Maybe he had come to enjoy the little back and forth games he had been carrying on with Jasmine these past few days. He smiled. It was more than a little amusing to see her frustrated or flustered, and it would be an awful shame for her to go without all that once he was gone. But then another thought struck him. What if she could find the same kind of amusement without him? What if this Bill character did turn out to have a little depth to him?
He shook his head again, frustrated at his own wandering mind. What was getting into him? He was a prince of the fae, damn it. He could exude so much sexual magnetism with a flick of his mind that he could have most fae women fawning over him in an instant, and most certainly any human woman he could possibly want. Setting up Jasmine with someone good for her was what he’d been working towards this whole time. He could be free now. He could go off and fuck whomever his heart desired. Hell, he could have even been doing that his whole time, couldn’t he have?
So why wasn’t he?
He reached the lobby of the hotel and stepped through the doors like he owned the place. He very well could, in fact, but that was a trifle he couldn’t be bothered with. As he made his way across the lobby, his eyes roved around, watching the young woman at the reception desk subtly letting her gaze flit to him every few moments. She was pretty enough, and she probably deserved a little time to unwind.
It would be the easiest thing in the world to chat her up for a few minutes before inviting her up to his room and showing her a time unlike any other. Maybe that would even unknot some of the tension he felt in his chest. On any other day, he could envision himself stripping her top off, letting his hands play across her sensitive skin as he whispered into her ear.
But something about that just didn’t click for him. And that made him more irate with himself than anything else. And it was get
ting harder and harder to ignore the nagging thought that kept poking at the back of his mind.
Jasmine.
Duada banished his thoughts again, shoving his hands into his pockets as the elevator brought him up the floors to the penthouse suite, and he stared into the elevator security camera that would only register him as an ordinary looking, albeit attractive, human. Why was the thought of her date invading his attempt to enjoy all the pleasures he could be taking from this damned world of humans?
He entered his room and took a deep breath as he looked around at his handiwork. Even this suite was far below his personal standards, so during his stay; he’d taken the liberty of refurbishing it fairly liberally. The place looked like a veritable sheik’s palace now, with luxurious furniture and damask curtains all around. He flopped back onto the bed after slipping his shoes off, and stared up at the ceiling as he took a deep breath.
Maybe this was all just something to do with watching his handiwork in practice. Every great craftsman had to say goodbye to their work after a time, no matter how much of their heart they put into it.
That thought gave him pause. Just how much of his heart had he put into his work with Jasmine?
He had told himself when he landed that this would just be a bit of fun. A nice way to pass the time while he let the Queen get her fill of watching him struggle to endure the human world. Now that he’d fulfilled all that though, he felt a certain…connection to her. Maybe it was no more than what the Queen saw in Jasmine that made her admire the human from afar the first time.
But the Queen didn’t really know Jasmine, not like he did.
The thought of getting to know a human like this had unsettled him at first, but now, well, it seemed…unpleasant, just leaving her alone like that. Perhaps he ought to see things through a little longer, make sure this William guy really was everything she ever wanted?
Faery Godlover: BBW Paranormal Romance Page 6